He Made Me Lose Our Baby, Then Learned Who My Father Is

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I'm pregnantif you don't propose soon, there's no hiding this.

I held up the test results, half teasing, as I said it to my fianc, Ernest Sanchez.

Ernest just smirked. Babe, what are you talking about? I'm already married. How am I supposed to propose to you?

My mind went blank.

He pulled out a marriage certificate.

His name on the groom's line. Maggie Pruitt on the bride's.

"You love me as a person, not for some title," he said. "You don't need that from me."

"But Maggie's different. If I don't marry her, she walks."

"You love me so much, Agatha. You're not gonna stand there and watch me lose her, right?"

Tears ran down my face. "But I'm already pregnant."

Ernest gave a little "oh" of acknowledgment. "Right. Get rid of it."

"I promised Maggie. The first child has to be hers."

I stared at him through my tears. "Why are you doing this?"

He looked completely unbothered. "Agatha, you're the one who's always saying it. Love means letting go."

"I like Maggie Pruitt now. Just be a good girl and step aside."

"If Maggie and I break up, I'll be miserable. You'd really let that happen?"

"You love me that muchso deal with me having a wandering eye."

The sheer absurdity of it turned my stomach.

I bit down on my lip. "Let's break up."

Ernest blinked, then let out a mocking laugh. "Break up? Fine. You're still aborting it, though."

The coldness in him froze me where I stood.

When I didn't answer, he looked even more pleased with himself. "I knew you couldn't actually leave."

"Agatha, drop the bluffing act. It doesn't work on me."

"Try this again and I'll dump you myself. Get on your knees and begwon't change a thing."

My hands clenched so tight my nails broke the skin of my palms.

I looked him in the eye, with everything I had left. "This is a prank, isn't it?"

Ernest didn't answer. Instead, he reached out and stroked my face, gently.

Relief flooded through me.

It was a prank.

Ernest loved me. He'd never do this to me.

Then his hand closed around my throat and kept squeezing.

My mouth opened from the pain, and he shoved a pill past my lips.

It slid down my throat and into my stomach.

I hit my knees, hands at my throat, retching.

Tears blurred my vision, but nothing came back up.

"What did you give me?" I choked out.

Ernest's voice was flat. "Abortion pills."

"Maggie told me again and againget rid of this baby, no matter what."

My heart plummeted.

The cramps came fast, wave after wave tearing through my lower belly, sweat rolling down my forehead in heavy drops.

I stumbled into the bathroom, my body giving out beneath me. I collapsed on the floor.

My head struck the toilet with a dull thud.

Ernest never came to check. From the living room, I could hear the sounds of him playing a game.

I couldn't even cry anymore.

That was when my phone buzzed.

A text: Aggie, your dad and I booked a banquet hall at Phoenix Terrace. Bring your boyfriend along.

I wiped my eyes and typed back: "Mom, I'll come alone. We broke up."

I'd been lost since I was five. Three days ago, I finally found my birth parents.

They'd spent twenty years searching. The moment we met, none of us could stop crying.

And that was when I learned what they werepeople whose power could shake this entire city.

Today was supposed to be the dayErnest proposes, I bring him home to meet my parents. Now forget it.

The bathroom door slammed open.

Ernest rushed in, face tight with urgency. "Is it out yet?"

I didn't answer.

He started tearing at my clothes.

I fought him with everything I had, but it wasn't enough.

I lay in a pool of my own blood, hands still clutching at myself, covering nothing.

Ernest held up his phone, the camera aimed at the mess of blood and tissue. "Don't worry, it's done. It came out. I can see it."

Maggie's voice came through the speaker. "Ernest, send me the video. I'll show my friends so she can't fake anything."

She was going to circulate it.

Panic hit me. I struggled upright and lunged for his phone.

Ernest backed away grinning, holding it just out of reach, filming my wrecked, flailing body like he was teasing a monkey for fun.

I looked at him, bitter and desperate to the bone. "Ernest, we loved each other for years. How can you bear to do this?"

His expression didn't change. "Do you have any idea what I sacrificed for you?"

"I begged Maggie for months before she finally agreed to let me keep you as my hidden mistress."

"The fact that I didn't dump youthat's already more than you deserved. How can you still be this ungrateful?"

A cry tore out of me. The room tilted and I collapsed back into the blood.

Maggie let out a soft laugh. "You know what, Ernest? I've come around."

"Agatha is just a little dog you once took in. I'm not going to get jealous over a dog."

Ernest swung toward me. "Hear that? See how generous Maggie is? Thank her."

I said nothing. He came straight across the bathroom, grabbed my shoulders, and shook me. "Did you not hear me?"

My body was still raw from the miscarriage, every inch of me stabbed through with pain like needles driven into flesh.

When he shook me, I felt like my bones were about to snap apart.

Through the agony, I forced two words out between clenched teeth. "Thank you."

That finally satisfied him. He dropped me back into the blood and walked out.

I lay on the cold tile, tears streaming down my face without stopping.

I'd always known I was adopted.

My adoptive parents had never been kind. They hit me, screamed at me, barely fed me.

Ernest was the one who saw how bad it was. Every day he brought food to school and made me eat with him, quietly, like it was nothing.

Some of the crueler kids caught on. They circled me, chanting: *Beggar. Beggar.*

Ernest was the one who stepped in front of me and beat them off.

Once, I broke a plate while washing dishes at home.

My adoptive parents tied me up and beat me, cursing the whole time, calling me a worthless bastard.

When I didn't show up at school for three days, Ernest asked around until he found my house.

He tried to get me out. He fought them.

He was a childhow much strength could he have had? They beat his face black and blue, but he wouldn't back down.

It wasn't until a neighbor heard and called the police.

These memories never left me.

What I felt for Ernest went beyond loveit was threaded through with gratitude so deep I couldn't separate the two.

So I poured everything I had into him, gave him whatever I could give.

I believed what we had was unbreakable. I never imagined he would turn on me like this.

The bleeding was getting worse. Wave after wave of weakness washed through me.

Part of me wanted to give up. Just let it end here.

But then I thought of my real parents.

They had searched for me for so long. We had only just found each other.

I wasn't going to die. I was going to live, for them.

I dragged myself toward my phone to call 911.

But I was so weak I couldn't even lift my arm.

Just as my fingertips were about to reach my phone, I heard footsteps.

Someone walked over and took my phone away.

I tried to see who it was, but everything went black.

I came to in a place that smelled like disinfectant and rusta shabby clinic, fluorescent light buzzing above me, and Ernest sitting in the chair beside me.

"Agatha," he said, voice dripping with mockery, "I saved you again."

"So why are you always so ungrateful?"

I asked weakly, "How have I been ungrateful?"

He didn't answer.

He turned to the clinic doctor instead. "Finished? If the bleeding's stopped, we're leaving."

The doctor hesitated. "The bleeding has stopped for now, but..."

Ernest didn't wait for him to finish. He grabbed my arm and hauled me off the bed.

I stumbled, and he shoved me into the car.

"Where are we going?" I managed.

He didn't answer.

Everything blurred, swaying and dark, until the car stopped.

I saw Phoenix Terrace outside the window.

I froze. Phoenix Terrace?

Wasn't this where my birth parents were holding the banquet?

Where they were going to introduce me to high society?

Why had Ernest brought me here? Was he going to meet my parents?

Before I could think it through, he dragged me out of the car.

"Maggie, I brought Agatha." He walked into a private suite.

Something inside me went cold.

When I was thrown inside, I saw a group of women in gowns.

Maggie was beautifully dressed, the obvious center of them all, every eye already on her.

The moment she saw me, she recoiled as if something filthy had been dragged in. "Ernest, get this awful woman away from me. I don't want to see her."

But Ernest had me by the hair. "Maggie, I'm right here. Don't be scared."

He stared into my eyes, cold. "Agathayou went online and called Maggie a mistress. What the hell is wrong with you?"

I shook my head weakly. "I didn't."

Ernest scoffed. "If it wasn't you, then who? You think making up garbage like that is funny?"

He stood up and pulled out a marriage certificate in front of everyone. "Maggie and I are legally married."

"She's my wife. And this one" he pointed down at me, "she's not even worth calling a mistress. Don't believe a word she says."

As if to prove how serious he was, Ernest bent down and slapped me hard across the face.

I collapsed onto the floor and didn't move.

That slapfine. Call it repayment for what he did for me when we were children.

Maggie walked over, tears in her voice. "Agatha, Ernest and I are married. Why would you post those lies?"

I said quietly, "It wasn't me."

Maggie leaned close to my ear and whispered, "Of course I know it wasn't you."

"I posted it myselfso Ernest would hate you, so he'd humiliate you in front of all of them."

"You want to know why I had him bring you here?"

"There's a banquet tonight. All the upper-class families will be here."

"I'm going to make sure every single one of them knows you're a mistress. You'll never recover from this."

I stared at her, eyes wide.

Suddenly Maggie screamed, crying out, "Why did you bite me?!"

Ernest flew into a rage and kicked me in the lower stomach.

He beat me without mercy, as if every scrap of his rage needed somewhere to land.

When he'd finally worn himself out, Maggie's friends swarmed in.

Coffee splashed over my head, dripping down my face. Garbage landed on menapkins, food scraps, whatever they could grab.

They formed a circle and the screaming started: "You actually think you can latch onto Ernest Sanchez? You? Marry him?"

"Ernest Sanchez is high society. He's Mr. Swanson's guest. What the hell are you?"

"Exactly. Do you even know where you are? This is Phoenix Terrace. A broke nobody like you has no business setting foot in here."

Everything blurred, and I was small againback in every hallway, every schoolyard corner where they'd closed in on me just like this.

The only difference was that Ernest, the one who used to protect me, was now the one leading the attack.

Then one of Maggie's friends pulled out her phone and announced: "I've got a video right here."

"Her getting an abortion. Go on, everyonetake a good look."

They all crowded around.

In the video, I was screaming for help, writhing in pain.

But not a single face showed sympathy. Only disgust.

One of them finished watching and kicked me hard: "A filthy woman like you thinks she can seduce Ernest Sanchez?"

Someone else said: "Put it online. Let everyone see exactly who she is so they know to stay away."

I panicked.

I lunged for the phone, but a kick caught me out of nowhere and I hit the floor.

Fingers clawed at my clothes, ripping fabric, while more phones rose around me, filming. And then the chant started, ugly and rhythmic: "Beat the mistress! Beat the mistress!"

I threw my whole body into the crowd, tore free, and ran.

I made it to the hallway before they closed around me againfists landing, cameras shoved inches from my face.

Through a gap in the crowd, I saw Ernest.

He watched me with no expression. Not a flicker of anything.

I was done. My legs had nothing left, my arms couldn't even shield my head anymoreand then someone cut through the mob like a blade, scattering them.

The mob turned on him, cursing: "Mind your own damn business! You wanna be the hero?"

"What, you sleeping with this mistress too?"

"Want us to beat you next?"

Ernest's face changed instantly.

He hurried over, bowing and scraping: "Mr. Swanson, hello, I'm Ernest Sanchez."

Mr. Swanson didn't spare him a glance. His eyes were locked on me, and the pain in them nearly broke into tears.

I tried to smile. It barely held. "Dad," I whispered. "You came."