On the way home, James could not stop pacing and talking, his words hitting me like a ton of bricks.
“How could this happen?” he demanded. “I’m going to be a doctor. How did I not think to protect us? Now we’re in real trouble. How can I tell my parents? They’ll kill me.”
He kept going, saying how his tiny apartment was already too small for the two of us, let alone for four. He reminded me his father had promised him a luxury apartment as a wedding gift, but now who knew how his parents would react.
I felt like I was drowning in a sea of emotions, fear, guilt, uncertainty.
Tears streamed down my face as I whispered that I didn’t know what to do. I told him I was just as shocked and unprepared as he was. I still had to finish school, and now there were twins.
But then something inside me snapped.
“Don’t yell at me like this is all my fault,” I said, my voice stronger than I felt. “You were there too. I didn’t make these babies on my own.”
My voice cracked as I finished, but I stood my ground.
Then I voiced my biggest fear.
“Are you going to leave me now?”
As I stood there waiting for his answer, it felt like my whole future was hanging in the air. Would he stay with me? Or would I end up alone, just like I had always been afraid of?
In that moment, I realized that no matter what happened, I had to be strong for myself and for the little lives growing inside me.
I never imagined I would be in this situation, stuck between love and judgment, hope and despair.
James’s hug should have made me feel better, but his words felt empty. He said the babies were his too and apologized for losing his temper. He said we needed to tell his parents and somehow get married. He promised we would figure it out together, though he admitted he didn’t really know how.
I felt a bit of relief, but it didn’t last long.
When we met with James’s parents, their reaction was as cold as a winter morning.
James tried to break the news gently, telling them we were in love and expecting twins. He begged for their understanding, admitting we were just as surprised as they were.
Brenda Smith, his mother, clutched her chest and gasped as if she had been shot, while his father just frowned and stayed silent.
What followed was a long, humiliating questioning, as though my life had been placed under a microscope. With every question, I could feel myself becoming less and less acceptable in their eyes.
Not only was I pregnant with twins, but I was also an orphan with no family and no money. In their eyes, I was a terrible match for their only son.
But they had no choice.
They had to accept me as their son’s bride.
They decided to rent out my tiny apartment and have us live in their mansion. At least, they reasoned, there would be space for the children to play.
And just like that, a new chapter of my life began.
Adult family life.
No more working at the pharmacy either. My future in-laws were firmly against me working in a shop. I was thankful they at least let me finish my studies, though there I was taking final exams with a belly as big as a watermelon.
I had always dreamed of getting married before my pregnancy showed, wanting everything to be perfect. I imagined dancing with my love, trying on different wedding dresses, picking out veils and accessories.
A wedding, after all, is more than just a celebration for a woman. It is a symbol of love, a rite of passage, a memory to cherish for life.
But Brenda Smith had other ideas.
She delayed the wedding four times. Each time with a new excuse. First an illness. Then high blood pressure. Then work obligations. Then the season was not right.
It felt intentional.
Like Brenda was trying to delay the wedding until I was deep into my third trimester, looking awkward and exhausted in front of the guests.
Maybe she wanted to make a fool of me.
Brenda Smith was a hard woman, with no sign of compassion, respect, or kindness. She controlled the entire family and their business, with no one daring to question her.
As I lay in bed each night, my hands resting on my growing belly, I could not help wondering what I had gotten myself into. Was this the family I wanted for my children?
For myself?
But then I would feel a small kick, a reminder of the little lives counting on me, and I would gather my strength.
I might not have chosen the situation.
But I was determined to face it.
For my babies.
And for myself.
In the grand Smith mansion, Brenda’s smile was always as bright as polished silver when others were around. But as soon as James came home from work, she would pull him into his father’s study, and her true nature would come out.