Paula whispered, “Diego?”
He snapped, “Be quiet.”
The doctor’s face hardened.
“Do not speak that way in my examination room.”
For some reason, that almost made me cry again.
A stranger had defended me with more dignity than my husband had given me in weeks.
Diego dragged both hands through his hair.
“This doesn’t prove the baby is mine.”
The words came out weaker this time.
Dr. Salinas looked at him as if he had disappointed her professionally and morally.
“No ultrasound can prove paternity. But it can prove that your accusation based solely on the timing of your vasectomy was medically ignorant.”
Paula flinched.
I sat up slowly, wiping the gel from my belly with shaking hands.
For the first time since Diego had placed his coffee cup down and looked at me like garbage, I felt my spine straighten.
I looked at him.
“You left me for her before asking one doctor one question.”
Diego opened his mouth.
Closed it.
Paula’s eyes flicked between us.
Then the second shock arrived.
Dr. Salinas turned the screen slightly.
“There is one more thing.”
My heart jumped.
I grabbed the edge of the examination table.
“What?”
She softened immediately.
“The baby’s heartbeat is strong. But I need to show you something else.”
Diego muttered, “What now?”
The doctor moved the probe slowly.
A second dark shape appeared beside the first.
My mind did not understand it at first.
Then I saw another tiny flicker.
Another rhythm.
Another life.
Dr. Salinas said gently, “Laura… there are two babies.”
The room disappeared.
Two.
I stared at the screen.
One heartbeat.
Then another.
Two tiny pulses of life beating inside me while the man who created this chaos stood there with his mistress at his side.
“Twins?” I whispered.
Dr. Salinas smiled softly.
“Yes. Twins.”
My hands flew to my stomach.
I began crying so hard I could barely see.
Two babies.
Two little miracles.
Two children Diego had called another man’s without even seeing them.
Paula made a strangled sound.
Diego stared at the screen, pale now.
Completely pale.
“Twins,” he repeated.
It was not joy in his voice.
It was fear.
Because one baby could be dismissed in his mind as an inconvenience.
Two babies meant consequence.
Two babies meant child support.
Two babies meant public truth.
Two babies meant the story he had built with Paula was no longer romantic.
It was evidence of his stupidity.
Dr. Salinas printed the ultrasound images.
She handed them to me, not to him.
“Laura, I want you to schedule bloodwork and another scan. You’ll need careful monitoring.”
I nodded through tears.
Diego stepped forward.
“Let me see.”
I pulled the photos close to my chest.
“No.”
His face darkened instinctively.
“What do you mean, no?”
“I mean no.”
He stared at me as if the word did not belong in my mouth.
For eight years, I had softened my voice for him.
Explained.
Apologized.
Tried to keep peace.
Not now.
Not with two heartbeats still echoing in my ears.
“You walked in here to humiliate me,” I said. “You don’t get to hold the first picture of my babies.”
His jaw tightened.
“Our babies.”
I laughed.
The sound surprised all of us.
Even me.
“Our?”
Paula went very still.
Diego swallowed.
“Laura, listen—”
“No. You listen.”
My voice shook, but it did not break.
“You called me a traitor. You left me for your coworker. You let your mother call me a disgrace. You posted online that I was a lie. You brought Paula to a meeting where you tried to strip me of my house, my dignity, and my child’s rights.”
I looked down at my belly.
“Children’s rights.”
Diego closed his eyes.
“Laura, I was angry.”
