When I was 8 months pregnant with twins, I won a $750k lottery. But my
As I lay on the floor, crumpled and in agony, a rush of adrenaline surged through me, momentarily dulling the pain. The betrayal from the man I loved and his family was a knife twisting deeper than the physical pain I was enduring. My babies, my mind screamed, drawing my thoughts back to the immediate danger.
The room was chaos. Norma’s voice was a distant echo, reprimanding Renee for filming, but her scolding was more about decorum than concern for my wellbeing. Darren stood frozen, a mix of shock and anger on his face as he realized the severity of what he had done.
My mind raced, trying to piece together what to do next. I needed to focus, to protect my babies. The primal instinct to shield them overwhelmed me, fueling me with a resolve I hadn’t known I possessed. I needed help, real help, not from these people who’d shown their true colors.
With every ounce of strength, I pulled myself up, clutching my belly. A strangled cry escaped my lips as another contraction hit, but I knew I couldn’t wait. I had to get to a hospital. I staggered towards the door, each step a new battle, each breath a reminder of the lives I carried within me.
Norma moved to block my path, her face twisted with disdain. “You’re not leaving,” she hissed. “You need to sit down and sort this mess out.”
But this time, I was the one who didn’t listen. Summoning everything within me, I pushed past her, fueled by an urgency that overpowered fear. “You’ll regret this,” I warned, my voice stronger than I felt. “I won’t forget.”
The cold air hit me as I stumbled into the hallway, a sob escaping as I realized I was finally out. My phone, tucked into my pocket, was my lifeline. I fumbled it out, dialing the only person I could trust.
“Marian?” my friend, Lisa, answered, hearing the panic in my voice immediately. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s happening,” I gasped, tears mingling with rain as I made my way to the stairs. “The twins. I need help.”
“Where are you? I’m coming.”
I gave her my address, my voice breaking as another contraction ripped through me. “Please hurry.”
“Hold on,” she urged. “I’m on my way. Stay strong.”
The minutes stretched into eternity as I leaned against the stairwell, praying Lisa would arrive in time. Each contraction was a brutal reminder of the urgency. But I wasn’t alone. Despite the pain, I felt a fierce connection to the tiny lives within me, urging me to fight, to survive.
Finally, headlights cut through the darkness outside, and Lisa’s car skidded to a halt. She rushed in, her face a mix of worry and determination. “Let’s get you to the hospital.”
With her support, I made it to the car, the warmth and safety wrapping around me like a protective cocoon. As we sped through the night, I knew this was just the beginning of a new chapter. A chapter where I would fight tooth and nail for my children and myself. And Norma, Darren, and Renee? They’d see soon enough that I was done being their victim.
The hospital loomed ahead, a beacon of hope. As Lisa and the medical team helped me inside, a fierce resolve settled within me. This wasn’t the end. It was the beginning of a new, stronger Marian.
