My husband left me for his boss while I was pregnant—then they demanded one of my babies. At seven months pregnant with twins, I watched my life fall apart. Veronica, my husband’s boss, sent a message. I imagined it’d be about work. Opening it changed everything. A photo. Eric. Shirtless. Grinning. Caption: “It’s time for you to know.
He’s mine.” That evening, I waited at home, anxiety making me restless. When Eric arrived, Veronica walked in too. Eric exhaled. “Lauren, let’s be adults. I love Veronica.
I’m leaving you.” Then, from Veronica: “Since it’s HIS apartment, you need to move out by the week’s end.” I snapped. “I have nowhere to go! I’m expecting HIS twins!” She cocked her head. “Twins, right? I’ll cover your rent, all expenses… if you give me ONE baby.” I was stunned.
“What?!” “Twins are hard. I want a child—WITHOUT RUINING MY BODY.” Her hand lingered on Eric’s chest. “I’ll raise it as my own. You get stability. That’s the deal.” Eric gave a silent nod, completely unfazed.
I choked down my anger to force a smile. “Alright. One condition.” Veronica smiled, sure of herself. “Alright, what’s the condition?”
