“You lied to me!” Instead of celebrating the birth of our twin girls, my husband reacted furiously and accused me of cheating on him. Mark’s brutal departure and vicious comments tore our family apart. I will now hold him responsible for his departure from us.
As I lay in the white, clean hospital bed, my heart felt full, but my body ached. I was exhausted, but it was all worth it as I looked down at the beautiful twin girls crowded to either side of me.
As the babies cooed softly, I burst into tears of joy. After years of infertility and a long, difficult pregnancy, I was at last a mother. It was the most incredible feeling ever!
“They’re here,” I texted my husband Mark after grabbing my phone. Two beautiful girls. I’m excited to meet them.
I imagined his delight as I emailed it, and a contented smile appeared on my face.
As the babies cooed softly, I burst into tears of joy. After years of infertility and a long, difficult pregnancy, I was at last a mother. It was the most incredible feeling ever!
“They’re here,” I texted my husband Mark after grabbing my phone. Two beautiful girls. I’m excited to meet them.
I imagined his delight as I emailed it, and a contented smile appeared on my face.
When Mark finally turned to look at the twins, his jaw tensed. A moment of disappointment flashed across his face, and his lips twisted in disdain.
“What the devil is this?” He whispered, more to himself than to me.
A wave of bewilderment pushed hard into my ribs. “What do you say? They are our daughters! What’s wrong with you, Mark?
His gaze expanded.
The anger was simmering beneath the surface, preparing to explode, and I could see it. When it did happen, it was like a dam cracking.
“I’ll tell you what’s going on: I was tricked!” He snarled. “You didn’t tell me you were having girls!”
I blinked in surprise. “What’s the point? They’re doing well. They are perfect!
I reached for his hand, desperate to bind him to this moment. But he yanked it away with disgust, like a terrible tattoo on his face.
“It is really crucial! I didn’t want this, Lindsey! I thought we were having boys. His voice echoed off the cold walls, swelling and piercing me with each word. “This whole family was destined to carry on my name!”
My heart sank. “Are you serious? I take it that you’re upset because they’re girls?
“I am, you’re right!” As though the sight of the babies physically repelled him, he stepped back. “Everyone knows that a heritage can only be carried on by guys! You cheated on me, is that true? I’m not allowed to have these.
The comments felt like a stomach kick. He seemed to have sucked all the air out of my lungs.
“How in the world could you say that?” I mumbled, my vision blurred by tears. “You really believe that I cheated on you because I had daughters?”
As he marched toward the door, however, his hands were already clenching and unclenching in frustration.
“I’m not raising someone else’s kids,” he spat, his voice full of finality. “I’m going.”
Before I could respond, before I could scream, weep, or beg, he was gone. The door behind him banged with a loud thud. Everything I had taken for granted abruptly crumbled.
My girls were snuggled in my arms, and I looked down at them.
Despite the fact that my heart wasn’t feeling well at all, I whispered, “It’s okay, sweethearts.”
And for the first time since they were born, I began to cry.
Mark disappeared. No calls. No messages. According to a story I heard from mutual acquaintances, he was on vacation somewhere sunny, drinking drinks with the same guys who toasted us at our wedding.
That’s right, he went on vacation and left me. There was more to the treachery than that. It was the ease with which he departed, like though our time together had been a little irritation.
But the worst was yet to come.
I had returned home and was settling into my routine with the girls when I got the first message from Mark’s mother, Sharon.
I was really relieved! I knew that if Mark’s mother backed me, he would have to reconsider because Sharon was a severe woman.
My fingers were shaking with anticipation as I listened to Sharon’s message. Her voice was leaking through my phone like venom.
“You ruined everything,” Sharon snarled. Mark deserved sons, as everyone knows. How could you do this to him? To our home? How could you have cheated on my child like this?
I was so stunned that I dropped my phone. No slight was as stinging as what she said. In addition to having girls, they thought I had failed. And they wanted to punish me for it.
I stared at my phone, trying to understand this new strategy.
I jumped when my phone started ringing. It was Sharon. When the ringing stopped, a new voicemail notice showed up, so I let it ring.
Then the texts started to arrive, each one more brutal than the last. Sharon called me every name in the book as she berated me for having daughters, cheating on Mark, and not being a good wife.
Mark’s entire family had turned against me. I was alone.
At night, the nursery became both my sanctuary and my prison, no matter how hard I tried. I would mumble vows I wasn’t sure I could keep while I sat in the rocking chair, holding my daughters close.
I kept saying in a whisper, “I’ll keep you safe,” both for them and for myself. “We’ll be OK. You’ll see that everything will go smoothly.
However, there were certain evenings when I wasn’t totally convinced. Some nights I thought I may burst under the weight of loneliness and fear.
One of those nights when I was nursing the girls, I cried. It all seemed too much to bear.
“I can’t do this any longer,” I sobbed. It’s too challenging. I’m at my breaking point.
And then I realized. All this time, I’d been waiting for Mark to change his viewpoint and make sense, but he hadn’t done anything to inspire me. He had not even called.
I glanced down at them and knew it was time to protect my girls and myself.
A lawyer gave me my first glimmer of hope.
“You have a compelling argument regarding Mark’s desertion,” she added, tapping a pen reflectively on her desk. total custody. child support. Your requests will be followed when it comes to the visitation.
Her words lifted my shattered soul. Finally, I had some control and something to fight. And I wasn’t going to stop there.
Was Mark ready to go? Okay. I was relieved to get rid of the jerk, but he wouldn’t get away with it.
I carefully created a new social media presence to tell the story I wanted people to see.
Post after post detailed my girls’ accomplishments, such as their first giggles, gummy smiles, and little hands grasping for toys. Although each image offered a peek of happiness, it was clear from each statement that Mark wasn’t a part of it.
The updates spread like wildfire through our group when friends shared the posts and family members left comments. Mark was gone, but I was still making something beautiful.
The open house was my final act of defiance. I invited everyone to join me. The only person who was not welcome was Mark. I made sure the invitation said as much to make matters worse.
My house was a hive of laughter and joy on the big day. Tiny bows that matched their matching outfits were used to adorn the twins’ fragile heads. The guests complimented them on their beauty.
The door then flew open, showing a furious and wild-eyed Mark. It was quiet in the room.
“What the devil is this?” He barked. “Because of you, everyone is against me now!”
I stood, my heart pounding steadily. You didn’t want girls, Mark, which is why you left us. You took a stand.
“You took away my chance to carry on my family’s tradition!” He shot back, his eyes burning.
“You’re not welcome here,” I remarked in a calm, even pitying tone. We don’t need or want a man like you in our home. This is the life I lead now.
Around me, a group of pals gathered, their presence a silent but powerful force. Deflated and humiliated, Mark pivoted on his heel and dashed out, the door slamming behind him.
A few weeks later, Mark received the court documents detailing the visitation, custody, and child support agreements. There was no escape. He would have to assume the duties of fatherhood even though he would never be able to father our daughters.
Then came Sharon’s last note, which might have been an apology or more nasty words. It didn’t matter. I deleted it without reading it.
I was tired of the past and their family.
As I rocked my children that night, the future loomed enormous before us: it was brilliant, untouchable, and solely ours.
Here’s another story:It was strange and unsettling to see my kids sleeping on the cold hallway floor when I got home from a week away. I searched for answers while my heart was pounding, but all I could find were odd sounds coming from the children’s room, and my spouse was nowhere to be found. The next thing I learned angered me and made me want to fight! Click here to continue reading.
This work is based on real people and events, however it has been fabricated for artistic purposes. Names, personalities, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual events or people, alive or dead, is wholly unintentional and not the author’s purpose.
The author and publisher make no promises about the accuracy of events or character portrayals and disclaim all responsibility for any misunderstandings. The viewpoints expressed in this story are those of the characters and do not necessarily reflect those of the author or publisher. It is shown “as is.”
