My DINK Husband’s Twin Children

1
My husband was adamant: no children. So, on the day we married, I made a sacrifice for him. I had my tubes tied.
Twenty years later, a stock agreement for Lockwood Industries landed on my desk. And on it were the names of two children: Hank and Lily.
A quiet, thorough investigation revealed the crushing truth. They were my husbands twins, born ten years ago. And my retired in-laws, who were supposedly living out their golden years abroad, had been by their side all along.
The revelation struck me like a lightning bolt from a clear blue sky. I confronted him, my voice trembling with rage. "Why?"
He answered with a chilling calm. "It was for Jessica. To honor her parents."
My vision blurred with tears as I stared at him, the argument that followed tearing our world apart. Friends and family rushed to his defense, their words like salt in an open wound.
"You've been married for twenty years," they'd say. "Is it really worth throwing away over a couple of kids? Stephen still loves you, or he wouldn't have hidden it from you for so long."
"And think about it, Julia. With your poor health all these years, he never once complained. Lockwood Industries is a massive company; it needs an heir."
I looked at Stephen, my heart aching. He stood there, silent. Even in his forties, he was as handsome and imposing as ever, his posture perfect, his hair still a deep, solid black.
"If you promise never to see them again," I whispered, the words tasting like ash in my mouth, "I won't file for divorce. That's the most I can offer."
Stephen stood up and slowly, deliberately, slid the wedding band from his finger. "They're my family, Julia. My children. I can't abandon them."
He looked at me without a trace of guilt, his eyes clear and steady. "If you can't let this go, then maybe it's best if I move out for a while."
My hands clenched into fists, the last remnants of hope dying within me.
"Stephen," I said, my voice finally steady. "Let's get a divorce."
Before he could answer, my father's hand cracked across my face. "Stephen is a wonderful husband! How dare you ask for a divorce? I'll break your legs!"
My cousin chimed in, his voice frantic. "Julia, think about how much he's done for our family! They're just kids! You don't even have to raise them. You'd throw everything away for something so small?"
A chorus of persuasion erupted around me. Stephens expression hardened, a deep frown creasing his brow. "Julia that's not what I meant."
A tight, sharp pain seized my chest. I tilted my head back, forcing back the burning tears. "What you meant doesn't matter anymore, Stephen. You broke our vow."
A shadow fell over his features, obscuring his emotions. "Julia, we're not young anymore. We've been through so much together. I thought you, of all people, would understand."
"I was just keeping a promise to Jessica," he continued, his tone laced with a sense of weary justification. "It was about responsibility, not love. Why are you making this into something it's not?"
He spoke of his own difficult position, gently chiding me for my narrow-mindedness. But to me, his words were a bitter poison. My years of understanding and sacrifice had only taught him that he could betray me without consequence.
I closed my eyes.
Twenty years ago, back in college, I was falsely accused and ostracized. It was Stephen who stood up for me, the noble, righteous man who captured my heart. I never thought our paths would truly cross.
A year after graduation, his family's company was on the brink of collapse. His half-brother had colluded with a rival to forge contracts and embezzle company funds. As Lockwood Industries teetered on the edge of bankruptcy, I quit my job and poured everything I had into helping him.
We begged for help, swallowing our pride and countless glasses of cheap liquor to secure deals. For five grueling years, we fought tooth and nail to bring his company back from the dead.
On our wedding night, he told me he never wanted children, that the betrayal from his brother had soured him on the idea of family. Without a second thought, I had the procedure.
A year later, when our parents started pressuring us, I weathered the storm of gossip and presented them with forged medical reports stating I was infertile. After that, a river of foul-tasting herbal remedies was forced down my throat.
Stephen would hold me, his voice thick with guilt. "Julia, let's just tell them the truth. This is going to make you sick."
I looked him in the eyes. "Are you sure you can handle the pressure? There's a world of difference between not wanting kids and not being able to have them." I held his gaze. "Whatever you decide, I'm with you."
He hesitated.
I told him then that if he ever changed his mind, if the fear subsided and he wanted a child, I would reverse the surgery. We would have a baby of our own. He nodded, agreeing.
Ten years ago, the pressure from his parents suddenly stopped. My mother-in-law ceased her daily ritual of forcing bitter concoctions on me with a resentful glare. They announced they were retiring abroad, leaving the house and their lives in our hands.
I thought they had finally accepted our situation.
The truth was, Lockwood Industries already had its heirs. Twins.
I realized then that Stephens frequent "business trips" overseas weren't for business at all. He was with Jessica and their children.
Swallowing the suffocating lump in my throat, I asked him, "Stephen, do you even know the difference between responsibility and love? Don't you see how pathetic this makes me look? Like a complete fool?"
A flicker of guilt crossed his face as he saw the raw pain in my eyes. "I'm sorry, Julia. I truly am. I just I couldn't bear the thought of you going through another painful surgery. I just wanted to know what it felt like to be a father."
"Look," he pleaded, "they won't interfere with our lives. I've fulfilled my duty to Jessica, and if you're willing, the children will respect you as their mother."
A bitter, hollow laugh escaped my lips. "So, my husband cheats on me, has a secret family, and I'm supposed to be grateful that he's given me children to look after in my old age? So I don't die a lonely old woman?"
His face flushed with embarrassment, his voice rising. "Why do you have to put it like that, Julia? It wasn't cheating!"
"Jessica and I it only happened once. And it was just so that"
He trailed off, perhaps too ashamed to finish the sentence. He dismissed everyone from the room, leaving us alone.
"Julia, I know you're angry. But try to see it from my perspective. I'm forty-two years old. I just didn't want to have any regrets."
"If you really love me," he said, his voice softening, "you'll accept the children. Jessica has done a wonderful job raising them. You won't have to lift a finger. Isn't that a good thing?"
I stared at him, a long silence stretching between us. Finally, I spoke, my voice a raw whisper. "And if I don't accept?"
"Julia, I know this is a shock. It's okay I'll give you time." He paused, his next words a final, devastating blow. "But I won't stop seeing them. They're my children."
"Next week is my father's seventieth birthday. Jessica is bringing them. Once you meet them, I know you'll love them."
With that, he turned and left, closing the door behind him.
I sat in the silence, my hand trembling as I opened my phone. The file from the private investigator was still theretens of thousands of photos and videos, a meticulous chronicle of Stephen's secret life. Him accompanying Jessica to her prenatal checkups, the birth of the twins, every milestone of their lives.
And, of course, a copy of the stock transfer agreement.
Twenty years of marriage. And for half of it, his extended "business trips" were a lie. He was playing house with his other family. And I, the fool, had never once suspected a thing.
A portrait of a happy familyStephen, Jessica, Hank, and Lilyburned itself into my memory, the sight of his blissful smile a knife in my heart.
I had given up everything for him, for us. I became the woman behind the man, stood by him through hell and high water, only to discover I was merely a placeholder.
My heart a cold, dead weight in my chest, I closed my phone and made a call.
"I'll take the job. The one developing the new market in the Northwest."
My voice was flat, devoid of emotion. "And find me the best divorce lawyer you know."
At my father-in-law's birthday party, Jessica arrived looking radiant. Dressed in a bespoke gown, her face flawlessly maintained, she looked vibrant and young. She said something that made my in-laws roar with laughter. The twins, a boy and a girl, were adorable in matching crimson outfits, looking festive and bright. My mother-in-law cooed over them, her eyes shining with a love she had never shown me. She had a servant follow them with a tray of exquisite pastries from a five-star hotel, terrified they might get hungry or thirsty.
When she saw me, she offered a curt nod and tossed the gift I brought onto the growing pile without a second glance. She'd always looked down on me, believing I was beneath her son. A barren hen.
Jessica, meanwhile, presented her with a jade bracelet. My mother-in-law's face lit up. She slid it onto her wrist immediately, beaming. "Oh, Jessica, you're so thoughtful! I've always loved jade; they say it nurtures the soul." She shot a pointed look in my direction. "Unlike some people, who bring nothing but bad luck with their long faces."
The moment Stephen saw the children, his hand slipped from my arm as he rushed towards them.
"Hank! Lily! Did you miss Daddy?" he crooned, crouching down to pull them into a tight embrace.
Jessica watched them with a serene smile, then walked over and, as if she were his wife, casually straightened his collar and kissed him on the cheek.
"Was the flight tiring?" he asked her softly, brushing a stray hair from his temple. "Were the little ones any trouble?"
As if suddenly remembering I existed, he guided the little boy over to me. "Julia, this is Hank. He's the older brother."
The boys face was a mirror of Jessica's, with only Stephen's thin lips and almond-shaped eyes to mark him as his son. He glanced at me with disdain. "You're ugly. Not pretty like my mommy."
Then, he turned to Stephen, his voice a spoiled whine. "Daddy, you said you had a big present for my tenth birthday. What is it?"
Stephens smile was strained. "I do, but that's no way to speak to someone. This is Aunt Julia. Say hello."
The boy looked at me with smug defiance. "I know who you are. You're the horrible woman who stole our daddy. We don't like you. Go away."
Stephen froze, about to scold him, but Jessica intervened smoothly. "Oh, Stephen, don't be harsh. He's just a child. He misses you terribly; of course, he's going to act out."
Guilt washed over Stephen's face. He knelt to soothe the boy. "It's okay, Hank. Daddy will be around a lot more from now on."
He then stood and clapped his hands. Several waiters appeared, each carrying a gift on a velvet tray.
"Jessica," he announced, "this is for you and the children. A new house. There's no need for you to go back."
He unveiled the second gift: the keys and title to a brand-new Rolls-Royce Cullinan. "To make getting around easier."
The third was an exclusive, unlimited black card for a private couturier. From watches to jewelry to fine dining, I never knew Stephen could be so meticulous, so thoughtful.
The birthday party had become his stage.
Beaming at his happy new family, Stephen turned and nodded to his lawyer, who stepped forward with a microphone.
"On behalf of Mr. Stephen Lockwood, I would like to make an announcement. Forty percent of the shares of Lockwood Industries will be gifted to Mr. Hank Lockwood and Miss Lily Lockwood, respectively. An additional ten percent will be gifted to Ms. Jessica Hale. This agreement has been notarized and is effective immediately."
A wave of shocked murmurs swept through the crowd. Fifty percent of Lockwood Industries. It was a fortune measured in billions.
I could only watch with a bitter, silent laugh as guests swarmed Jessica, offering their congratulations.
How utterly absurd. I had bled for that company for two decades, and he had never once offered me a single share. Yet he had already secured Jessicas future, ensuring she would never have to worry.
The difference between being valued and being disposable was crystal clear.
Stephen finally seemed to notice me standing alone, a cold statue amidst the celebration. "Julia, don't overthink this. The shares are for the kids' future."
"You're my wife," he added, as if it were a consolation. "When they're older, they'll take care of you, just like they'll take care of me. What do you need shares for, anyway?"
Before I could respond, Jessica glided to his side and took his arm. "Stephen, darling, there are some elders here I haven't met. Could you introduce me?"
As she led him away into the crowd, she glanced back at me, her eyes filled with triumphant mockery.
His parents called for a family photo. I quietly slipped away.
When Stephen finally found me, I was sitting on the floor in a quiet corner, drunk, the world a blurry mess of tears. He knelt beside me, his expression full of apology, the scent of another woman's perfume clinging to him.
He brought me water, gently wiped my face, and helped me drink.
For a fleeting moment, it was like we were twenty years younger, back when our love was the only thing that mattered. Back when the company had nothing, and we were desperate for a loan. Id secured a million-dollar loan by drinking with a bank manager, ten thousand dollars for every shot I took. I drank until I threw up blood, and Stephen held me all night, wiping my face, his own tears mingling with mine.
He had begged me to give up then, his voice breaking. "We're going to lose everything, Julia. We'll be destroyed."
I had clung to him, kissing his tears away. "I will get your company back for you, Stephen. I swear it. I'll make the people who hurt you kneel at your feet."
He held me, kissing my hair, his voice choked with guilt and tears. "I'll never leave you, Julia. Never."
"I just didn't want you to go through the surgery," he whispered now, his tears falling onto my face. "But I hurt you anyway."
Our tears mixed again, but this time, there was no sweetness, only the bitter taste of betrayal.
"Stephen," I begged, my voice cracking, "send them away. Tell them to go back and never return. Please."
"You want a child? I'll go to the hospital tomorrow. We can have our own. Please, just come back to me. I'll do anything"
His body went rigid. The spell was broken. I was sober.
"Stephen, why?" I asked, my voice dangerously quiet. "When you finally decided you wanted children why didn't you come to me?"
The marble coffee table spiderwebbed with cracks under my fist. Blood dripped from my knuckles onto the polished floor, each drop a punctuation mark to our ruined marriage.
The next day, Stephen brought Hank and Lily to our home.
"Hank, Lily, this is Aunt Julia. Say hello." He pushed them gently towards me. "Get to know each other. I know you'll love them."
He then knelt down, his voice filled with the same doting affection he showed Jessica. "You two be good for Aunt Julia today, okay? Daddy has to go to the office for a bit."
Hank, a clever little actor, replied loudly, "Okay, Daddy! We'll be good. Mommy already told us what to do."
Stephen smiled, satisfied. As he reached the door, he turned and gave us a cheerful wave.
The moment he was gone, Hank leaned in close, his voice a conspiratorial whisper. "Daddy's gone to see Mommy. Mommy says you're a pathetic loser. You can't even have your own babies, so you're trying to steal us."
"This is our daddy's house. We don't like you," he sneered. "Why are you still here?"
My throat tightened, a chilling cold spreading through my veins. I stared blankly at the front door. How could he lie to me so casually? Was he trying to rip my heart out?
I sank onto the sofa, watching the two children tear through the house like a storm.
When I reached for my phone to call Stephen, Hank snatched it and smashed it on the floor, his small face contorted with a vicious snarl. "No! You can't call him! He's on a date with Mommy!"
"You're not going to ruin it! You're useless! Daddy only keeps you around because he pities you!" He stuck out his tongue, making a grotesque face at me.
My breath hitched. Even the children knew. I was useless, a charity case kept by my husband. No wonder no one condemned him for his affair.
Suddenly, Hank grabbed a piece of the shattered phone, and his hand started bleeding. Lily immediately dialed a number.
Stephen and Jessica arrived with astonishing speed. Jessica rushed to Hank, cradling his hand, her voice frantic with worry.
Hank sobbed dramatically. "It was her! She got mad and threw the phone! I tried to pick it up for her, and she she called me a bastard and told me to get out!"
Lily clung to Jessica's leg, her face a mask of terror. "Mommy, I'm scared! I want to go home!"
Jessica turned to me, her eyes red-rimmed. "Julia, I know this is all my fault. I never should have fallen for Stephen. We've stayed away for all these years, trying not to disturb you. But Hank is just a child! If you're angry, take it out on me. Hit me, yell at me, I'll take it."
A profound sense of helplessness washed over me. I opened my mouth to explain, but it was too late.
Stephens palm cracked against my cheek.
His face was a mask of cold fury, an expression I had never seen before. "I know you're upset," he hissed, his voice like ice, "but I never imagined you would take it out on a child."
He stared down at me, his words a thousand tiny daggers piercing my heart. "This is a Lockwood house, Julia. Hank is a Lockwood. Who the hell are you to call him a bastard and tell him to get out?"
I stood there, speechless, as he tenderly scooped up both children and walked out the door without a backward glance.
The villa was suddenly vast and silent. A bitter, acidic taste filled my mouth.
After a long time, I took the divorce agreement out of my drawer and placed it on the coffee table.
As I was leaving with my packed suitcase, I paused. I pulled up the security footage from the living room, sent the video file to Stephen, and then blocked his number.
"Alex," I said into my phone. "I'm ready. Come and get me."

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