After giving birth to my first children, I thought my husband would finally prioritize us over his mother. But once again, he chose her side over mine. This time, I had enough. I exposed her for the bully and liar she truly was.
Bringing home my newborn twins, Ella and Sophie, should have been one of the happiest moments of my life. Instead, it turned into a nightmare. After three grueling days in the hospital recovering from delivery, I was ready to head home, imagining my husband, Derek, picking us up with flowers and joy in his eyes. Instead, I got a hurried phone call that shattered those hopes.
“Hey, baby,” Derek said, his voice tense. “I’m so sorry, but I can’t come pick you up.”
“What?” I asked, baffled. “Derek, I just had twins. What could be more important?”
“It’s my mom,” he interrupted. “She’s having chest pains, and I need to take her to the hospital.”
His words hit me like ice water. “Derek, I need you here.”
“I know,” he said, sounding exasperated. “But it’s serious. I’ll come as soon as I can.”
I gritted my teeth, furious but holding back my emotions. “Fine. I’ll get a taxi.”
I knew his mother, Lorraine, lived in another city, which meant Derek wouldn’t be back anytime soon. Resigned, I bundled the girls into their car seats and called a cab. When we arrived home, my stomach dropped. The lawn was littered with my belongings—suitcases, diaper bags, even the crib mattress. Confused and panicked, I approached the door, only to find it locked and a note taped to one of the suitcases.
“Get out of here with your little moochers. I know everything. —Derek.”
My heart stopped. This couldn’t be happening. The man who had held my hand through every doctor’s appointment, who cried at our daughters’ first ultrasound, had seemingly abandoned us. I called him immediately, but it went straight to voicemail. With the twins crying in their car seats, I felt helpless and utterly alone.
Desperate, I called my mom, choking out the details. “Derek changed the locks and left this awful note. I don’t know what’s happening.”
“What?!” she exclaimed. “Stay there. I’m coming.”
When she arrived, she was as shocked as I was. “This doesn’t make sense! Derek loves you and the girls.”
“Does he?” I asked bitterly. “What does he mean by ‘I know everything’? What could he possibly accuse me of?”
She hugged me tightly. “Let’s go to my place until we figure this out.”
That night, I barely slept, haunted by Derek’s silence. The next morning, determined to find answers, I drove back to the house, leaving the twins with my mom. To my shock, I found Lorraine sitting at the dining table, calmly sipping tea. Furious, I banged on the door until she opened it just a crack.
“What are you doing here?” I demanded. “Where’s Derek?”
She smirked. “He’s at the hospital, taking care of his sick mother.”
“You’re not sick,” I snapped. “You’re standing right here.”
She shrugged, her smug smile widening. “Maybe I’m feeling better. Miracles happen.”
Realization dawned on me. “You lied to him, didn’t you? You faked being sick!”
“And?” she replied nonchalantly.
“Why?” I demanded, my voice shaking with anger.
“Because you gave us two girls,” she sneered. “Our family needs a boy to carry on the name. You’re useless to us.”
Her cruel words stunned me. She went on to admit she had orchestrated the entire situation—locking me out, stealing Derek’s phone, even bribing a nurse to keep him at the hospital.
“You’re deranged!” I yelled.
She laughed. “Call it what you want. Derek will always take my side.”
Her arrogance lit a fire in me. I drove straight to the hospital, where I found Derek pacing in the waiting room, looking worried and confused.
“Jenna!” he exclaimed, rushing to me. “Where have you been? I’ve been trying to call you!”
“Your mother took your phone,” I said, my voice trembling. “She faked her illness and locked me and the babies out of the house.”
“What? That doesn’t make sense,” he said, but as I explained everything, disbelief turned to fury. Without another word, he grabbed his keys and stormed out.
Back at the house, Lorraine’s smug demeanor vanished when Derek confronted her. “What did you do?” he demanded.
She tried to deflect, but he cut her off. “You made me abandon my wife and newborn daughters over a lie. And for what? Because they’re not boys? You’ve crossed the line.”
“Derek, I was just protecting our family,” she pleaded.
“No,” he snapped. “You’re no longer part of my family. Pack your things and leave.”
Her tears and protests fell on deaf ears. Derek stood firm, defending me and the girls with a conviction I had never seen before. For the first time, I saw the husband and father I needed him to be.
That night, Lorraine left. Derek apologized repeatedly, vowing to rebuild our life. He changed the locks, blocked her number, and even reported the bribed nurse. Over the following months, we worked hard to repair the damage. One evening, as I rocked Ella and Sophie to sleep, I realized something unexpected: Lorraine’s cruelty had only brought us closer together. In trying to destroy us, she had unintentionally strengthened our bond.
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