My husband Force Me Seven Times Abortions for My Sister-in-Law

John held my hand tightly, his expression unreadable, his emotions shrouded in an indescribable haze.

Dr. Lane’s voice was cold, laced with a subtle reprimand. “Mr. Smith, your wife barely escaped death this time. If the nurse hadn’t found her in time... she might not be here right now. She will have a high fever for the next few days—you’d better take proper care of her.”

I felt the warmth of John’s face against my hand. I wanted to pull away, but my body was too weak to resist. I could only lie there, allowing him to do as he pleased.

“No... I will protect her. She won’t die.”

His voice wavered, the faintest tremor betraying something unfamiliar—was it fear? Desperation? Or was it just my imagination?

Perhaps it was a dream. After all, John had never loved me. If I had died, wouldn’t that have set him free to be with the woman he truly cherished?

Still, deep inside, a foolish part of me clung to a shred of hope, though I knew it was impossible.

This time, John didn’t dare leave. He stayed beside me, unwavering, tending to me through the night. He pressed a cool, damp towel to my burning forehead, soothing my fever. Occasionally, I felt the roughness of his unshaven face brushing against my skin. For a fleeting moment, my heart wavered.

Then, as if in a trance, I heard him murmur, “Yurie, don’t worry. No one will take your child’s place.”

In my fevered dreams, I wept bitterly. I had loved him in silence for three years before we married and for five years after. And yet, in this moment, every ounce of my love collapsed like a broken dam.

There was no turning back. Every ounce of tenderness he showed me was merely a shadow of the love he reserved for someone else.

***

When I woke from my nightmare, I found John asleep beside me. His brows were furrowed, as if he were deep in troubled dreams.

For a long moment, I simply stared at him before slowly reaching for my phone. My fingers trembled as I typed a message to my best friend in Brooklyn.

[Didn’t you always want me to join you in starting a business? I’ll come find you in a week.]

John’s grip on my other hand was firm, making it difficult to type. Sweat beaded on my forehead as another wave of pain rippled through my body. I clenched my teeth, lying still, waiting for it to pass.

Then, an untimely chime rang out from his phone.

At first, I ignored it. But when the notifications continued, my curiosity got the better of me. His phone had no password—he always said, “I’m open with Rachel. You can check my phone whenever you like.”

I had trusted him. I had never once taken him up on the offer. The screen lit up, revealing our wedding photo as the background. We looked so happy, smiling like a couple deeply in love. If I hadn’t known better, I might have believed it myself. But then my eyes fell on a series of scheduled reminders and my heart clenched.

[January 22 – Yurie’s birthday. Buy her the one-of-a-kind gemstone necklace.]

Tomorrow. He had planned in advance. He was going to see Yurie tomorrow. My hands moved on their own, clicking into his notes, my mind momentarily forgetting the pain wracking my body. Because the pain in my chest was far greater.

[April 5, 2023 – Today, Yurie looked at me. Is she still unable to let me go? If she had married me from the start, I would have given her all my happiness. But it’s fine. I can still do that now.]

[June 13, 2023 – Yurie fell today. She’s always been frail. I can’t let her go to such places again. I’ll hire more caregivers for her.]

[July 19, 2023 – Tomorrow, my nephew starts school. I must remember to prepare gifts for both mother and child.]

[September 27, 2023 – Today, my nephew accidentally called me ‘Dad.’ It was just a single word, but it made me happier than I expected. Yurie, does this mean we’ve spent enough time together to count as family now?]

A cold chill spread through me, numbing every nerve. I had been nothing but an afterthought. A placeholder. A name he kept in his life, while his heart had always belonged to someone else.