My Husband Killed Our Unborn Baby to Save his Beloved Woman 15
Three years into our marriage, I finally conceived Theo’s child. On Valentine’s Day, he performed the abortion himself. Red-eyed, he said my heart couldn’t handle the pregnancy. I believed him. I felt guilty.
Behind a curtain, he washed his hands. Another voice asked why not wait—there was a chance.
“Teresa needs cord blood,” Theo said coldly. “Full term is too slow. I accelerated the fetus and induced at five months. The baby won’t survive, but the cord blood will save her. Dolores won’t live long anyway. Tell her it was stillbirth.”
I closed my eyes. Tears fell. My husband killed our child and drained its last value—for my half-sister.
Three years into our marriage, I finally conceived Theo’s child. On Valentine’s Day, he performed the abortion himself. Red-eyed, he said my heart couldn’t handle the pregnancy. I believed him. I felt guilty.
Behind a curtain, he washed his hands. Another voice asked why not wait—there was a chance.
“Teresa needs cord blood,” Theo said coldly. “Full term is too slow. I accelerated the fetus and induced at five months. The baby won’t survive, but the cord blood will save her. Dolores won’t live long anyway. Tell her it was stillbirth.”
I closed my eyes. Tears fell. My husband killed our child and drained its last value—for my half-sister.
