Five Times Too Many
For eight years in a marriage devoid of light, I had abortions five times. Every time, Sam would grip my hand when I woke up, his eyes red, and promise to find the best doctors to help me recover.
After the third miscarriage, he finally hired a team of top-tier nutritionists, ensuring that every single meal was planned perfectly.
He always comforted me, "Don't worry, Penny. We're still young, so we can have another baby!"
When I found out I was pregnant again, snowflakes were dancing outside my window.
I wrapped my fur coat tightly around my body and rushed to the company, only to hear Wren's furious voice outside the VIP suite, "Are you insane? Those five babies were your own flesh and
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