Future Me Said Abort His Triplets

My agent’s voice was electric. “Honey, that’s fantastic! I’m so glad you came to your senses!”

“I’ll pick you up from the airport myself in seven days. You’re going to bring home another Oscar, I’ve got a good feeling about this.”

The second I hung up, a single tear slid silently down my cheek.

Just then, a pair of large hands gently touched my belly from behind.

Cormac rested his head in the crook of my neck, his voice a low whisper. “Baby, I’m so happy. The doctor said it’s triplets. The Brown family will have its heirs soon.”

“If the pregnancy is life-threatening, would we still have these three kids, Cormac?”

I stared hard at the man I loved, my voice trembling.

A second ago, his eyes were full of tenderness. Now, his face darkened.

“Don’t be stupid, Victoria.” His tone was hard, leaving no room for argument. “This is the Brown family bloodline. You will have them, no matter what.”

No matter what. Did that include my life?

My stomach churned. The warning from my future self, his words from behind the door—“just the incubator”—the words coiled in my gut like a snake.

He must have felt my shoulders tremble, because his voice softened. “You can’t get emotional when you’re pregnant. Think of the babies.”

I forced back my tears. Before I could speak, his phone vibrated in his pocket.

The screen lit up. The contact name was “B.”

Cormac glanced down, a small, private smile playing on his lips.

He stood up quickly, smoothing down his custom-tailored suit.

“Urgent family business. I have to go.” He planted a kiss on my forehead. “You just rest here. Don’t overthink things.”

The moment the door closed, I scrubbed at my forehead, trying to wipe his touch away.

From the second I knew the truth, I could never be close to this man again.

It was all so absurd.

Ten rounds of IVF. Hundreds of hormone shots in my stomach. Countless nights I couldn’t sleep from the pain.

I thought I was fighting for our future. Turns out, I was just a pawn, building a throne for his queen.

That day, I called my private doctor.

“Schedule an abortion. As soon as possible.”

Two hours later, I was alone on a cold operating table.

“Miss Victoria, are you sure?” the doctor asked, holding my chart, his eyes full of pity. “You went through ten rounds of IVF for these triplets. If you go through with this, you might never…”

“Do it,” I cut him off, closing my eyes as a tear slipped into my hairline.

The anesthesia crept through my veins. Just as my consciousness began to fade, my phone lit up.

It was a picture message.

In the photo, Bianca was wearing my silk nightgown, smiling as she leaned against Cormac’s chest. They were on the terrace of the private estate where he had once promised me the world. The hickeys blooming on her neck were trophies from their latest conquest.

The text below read: “Victoria, you have no idea how wild Cormac was in bed. Guess you can’t satisfy him, so I had to step in.”

My fingers dug into the bedsheets, my knuckles turning white.

I could still see him on one knee in that exact spot, telling me he loved me.

Now, that place was tainted. Just like him.

As my vision blurred, the phone slipped from my hand and clattered to the floor.

Darkness swallowed me. When I opened my eyes again, the three bastards inside me—the ones that were never mine to begin with—were gone, reduced to nothing more than a pool of blood.

Ignoring the sharp, twisting pain in my abdomen, I didn’t call anyone. I hailed a cab and went back to the apartment myself.

The moment I pushed the door open, I saw Cormac sitting on the sofa.

He saw my pale face and his brow furrowed. “Victoria, where have you been? Do you have any idea how worried I was?”

I forced a weak smile. “Just went for a walk. The doctor said it’s good for the babies.”

The tension in Cormac’s face instantly eased.

He pointed to several orange boxes on the coffee table.

“I know pregnancy is tough, so I got you a few gifts.”

They were Hermès boxes.

I opened the largest one. Inside was a pricey silk scarf and a few necklaces.

“Like them?” he asked, wrapping his arms around me from behind.

“I love them,” I said, fighting the urge to shove him away.

He didn’t notice anything was wrong. He let go and checked his watch. “I have a meeting. I’ll be back later to spend time with you.”

The door closed again.

My phone buzzed with a notification.

It was Bianca again.

“Get your gifts? Surprise! Cormac had to buy all that to get the limited-edition Himalayan Birkin for me. I told him to give the throwaway junk to you. Just to get it out of my sight.”

The cold light of the screen illuminated my face. I looked at the pile of orange boxes and suddenly laughed.

Laughed until I cried.

The old Victoria, the one willing to give up her Hollywood stardom for love, the one who endured the pain of IVF again and again… she was such a pathetic fool.

I walked to the coffee table and swept the expensive scarves and accessories into the trash can like the garbage they were.

I didn’t want his scraps.

And I didn’t want Cormac anymore.