The Day I Miscarried He Demanded A Paternity Test Novels & Stories

I quickly edited a recording from my phone, planning to take it straight to court and file for divorce the next morning. With the audio secured, I clutched the phone close. But sleep was uneasy, each breath weighing heavy. Deep into the night, I heard my bedroom door creak open, followed by the gentle dip of the mattress. Before I could react, someone wrapped their arms around me and pulled me into their embrace. Just hours ago, I could have tolerated his touch, but now, the very thought of Austin near me made my skin crawl. I opened my eyes and gripped his hands firmly, my tone sharp. "I just had a miscarriage. What do you think you're doing?"

Finn then dropped his cutlery in front of so many people and left in a hurry, leaving behind a table full of awkward guests, including my parents. Another unforgettable incident was after my miscarriage. I was suffering from unbearable abdominal pain due to complications from the miscarriage, and I pressed the nurse call bell. All the while, he was in another hospital room, carefully cradling his child and humming a clumsy yet so tender off-key lullaby—a tenderness I had never seen before.

Silence in the face of grievance was my sharpest weapon. Only when I was on the verge of blacking out did he finally let go. I collapsed to the floor, gasping for air. Then I reached into my bag, pulled out a document, and threw it straight at him. It was a paternity test I had prepared long ago—or more precisely, an amniocentesis test. Although it was still early in the pregnancy, I had bribed the doctor to fast-track it as an urgent case. "Henry, you're disgusting," I said hoarsely, staring at him with utter despair.

I tried to use jealousy as a shield, and I turned it into a sword. "No," I whisper. "Yes," he says. He lets go of my face. "The doctor is coming," he says. "We will do a paternity test. Tonight." He walks to the window. He looks out at the darkness. "And if it isn't ours..." He turns back. His eyes are dead. "Then we will fix the mistake." I sink back into the chair. I am trapped. If it is theirs, it is an abomination. If it isn't theirs, it is a mistake to be fixed.

“You got drunk. You threw yourself at me. And now you’re trying to trap me with a baby that’s probably not even mine.” “I didn’t throw myself at you.” “You saw a drunk man and decided what you wanted from him.” “That’s not what happened…” “You’re lying,” he cut in sharply. “And I don’t deal with women who turn one mistake into a lifetime demand.” The words hit like a slap. “I’m not lying to you,” I whispered. “I’m asking for a paternity test. That’s it. We can go to any hospital you choose.” “Take pity on me, I…I…"

"Sir, standard paternity tests take about three to five days..." "I don't care what it costs," Jackson interrupted fiercely, stepping into the elevator. "I want a VIP rush. I want those results on my desk by 8 AM tomorrow!" The elevator doors closed. Jackson looked at his reflection in the steel doors, his hands shaking slightly. Five years ago, Serenity was pregnant when she left. He remembered the unread medical reports she had tried to show him on their last day. The babies she never got to mention. If the results matched... he was a father. A father of twins.

"I am a nurse from the obstetrics department, and I watched her husband bring his mistress in for a prenatal check-up when Dr. Rosewood was still weak and recovering from surgery!" "Dr. Rosewood has been paying Mr. Leyton Senior's hospital bills ever since he got hospitalized, but they only treated her like an ATM machine!" Amidst the angry cries for justice on the internet, I received a DNA test report from someone anonymous that identified Nicholas as the birth father of my miscarried baby. My phone began ringing just then. I glanced at the caller ID and chuckled coldly before blocking the number altogether. The sun was warm as its rays filtered through the windows.

"Isabella, I'm handling this. She's been harassing me, but I've already told her it's over." I looked at him, then back at Carmen. "Carmen, I think we all deserve to know the truth." I took out my phone and dialed my private physician. "Dr. Martinez, I need you to arrange an emergency paternity test. Yes, right now. Come to the estate."

He just waited. She was quiet for a long time. “A paternity dispute,” she said finally. Her voice was almost perfectly flat, which was, he had learned, the register she used when something had reached beneath her composure and found the place that genuinely hurt. “Filed by his mother,” she said. “Against the woman carrying his children. Eighteen weeks pregnant, two days after the man’s own grandmother funded the conspiracy that made the divorce necessary in the first place.” She exhaled. “Your family, Damian.”

I couldn't risk any public humiliation within family circle. But beneath the anger, a darker satisfaction stirred inside me as the doctor confirmed the miscarriage. The pregnancy was gone. Cerene had taken my sperm through without my permission. That child was never truly mine in any way that mattered. Its loss brought no grief, only cold relief. I had my own son, my own child safely being cared for in special care away from Caroline's psychotic behavior. “Good riddance.“ I thought. I moved quickly, pulling out my phone and making a single call to my lawyer, Marcus, who handled all Lockwood related matters.