chapter 3

I lay in bed, feeling lazy and lethargic, as if the weight of the world was crushing me. I didn't want to wake up, didn't want to face another day without the love of my life by my side. My hand instinctively reached out to the other side of the bed, searching for the warmth and comfort of Mark's big, strong body. But, as had been the case for the past four months, the space beside me was empty.

I couldn't shake off the feeling of guilt and regret that had been plaguing me since the day I left Mark. I knew he was hurting, and it was all because of the choice I had made. His mother, Martha's, constant threats and belittling had finally taken its toll on me. She had always hated me, viewing me as a parasite who was only after her son's wealth. She didn't care that my parents were comfortable, that we had enough to get by. All she saw was what she wanted to see - a poor, unworthy partner for her precious son.

Martha's venomous words still echoed in my mind, the way she would disrespect my family, calling us names and making us feel like we were beneath her. I had tried to endure it for Mark's sake, but in the end, it had become too much to bear. I had made the painful decision to leave, to protect myself and my family from Martha's toxic behavior. But now, as I lay in this empty bed, I couldn't help but wonder if I had made a terrible mistake.

The memories of those tumultuous days still lingered, like an open wound that refused to heal. I had suffered through multiple miscarriages, each one a devastating blow to my heart and my dreams of motherhood. And yet, instead of offering comfort and support, Martha had tormented me, calling me a curse to her son. Her words had cut deep, especially during those dark moments when I was struggling to come to terms with my loss.

But that fateful night had been the final straw. Martha had attacked me, taking advantage of Mark's absence on a business trip. She had held my family hostage, threatening to sell them into human trafficking markets. I had been paralyzed with fear, unsure of what to do. But when I finally found the courage to visit my family, I discovered that Martha had been lying. Her cruel words and actions had been nothing more than a twisted game of manipulation.

The worst part was that she had disrespected my parents, hitting them and leaving them bruised and battered. My mother's tears still haunted me, her words echoing in my mind: "If you really love us, you should break up with Mark." In that moment, I knew I had to make a choice. I couldn't continue to subject my family to Martha's cruelty, no matter how much I loved Mark.

I gently cradled my swollen belly, my hands tenderly tracing the curves of my growing form. It was still hard to believe that I was pregnant, that two tiny lives were blossoming inside me. I had discovered I was expecting just two months after leaving Mark, and now, four months into my pregnancy, I was thrilled to be carrying twins.

As I sat there, lost in thought, I couldn't help but wonder what the future held for my babies and me. Would Mark ever find out about the twins? Would he even care? The questions swirled in my mind, but for now, I just smiled, feeling a sense of joy and purpose that I hadn't felt in a long time. My babies were a reminder that life was full of surprises, and that sometimes, the hardest experiences could lead to the most beautiful outcomes.