My husband Force Me Seven Times Abortions for My Sister-in-Law

I have been married to John Smith for five years, yet I have never conceived. He once told me he had a medical condition and begged me not to resent him for it. I believed him. Until today.

Lying in a hospital bed, my abdomen wracked with pain, I watched as John stepped out to buy me lunch. A nurse entered moments later, preparing an injection. She sighed and muttered under her breath, her voice laced with disapproval.

"I just don’t understand you. Every time you get pregnant, you still let your husband be so... intense. And now, another miscarriage."

Her words sent a chill down my spine. Another miscarriage? The seven times I had suffered severe abdominal pain and heavy bleeding in the past five years—were not menstrual cramps, but miscarriages? My breath caught in my throat. My hands clenched the hospital sheets as realization dawned.

John had no medical condition. He never had a problem with fertility. He just never wanted me to bear his child.

A wave of nausea hit me as I forced myself up, my body trembling from the pain. I had to find out the truth. Steeling my nerves, I reached for the door, but just as I was about to step out, I heard his voice from inside the doctor's office.

"Mr. Smith," the doctor said, his tone grim. "The bleeding was excessive this time. I'm afraid your wife may never be able to conceive again."

John's reply was chillingly indifferent. "It doesn’t matter. I never intended for her to bear a child of the Smith Family. I only married her to silence the public—to stop them from tarnishing Yurie’s reputation. It hasn’t been easy for her, raising a child alone in the Smith Family. No one else can take the heir’s place."

Yurie. His sister-in-law. It all clicked at once. Every act of tenderness, every whispered promise, every night we spent together—nothing but a lie. Then what was I to him? A pawn?

——

The doctor flipped through some reports. "Mr. Smith, Madam was three months pregnant this time. You terminated it again, in the same cruel manner."

I gripped the doorframe as my vision blurred.

Three months...

"If it continues like this, she may never bear a child again," the doctor warned. "At worst, this could cause irreversible damage to her health. And the medication you’ve been giving her to stop the bleeding—it’s harmful."

John scoffed. "It’s worked so far, hasn’t it? She always thinks it's just her period."

"But, Mr. Smith, don’t you want a child of your own? You're so devoted to your sister-in-law... aren't you afraid—?"

"Afraid?" His voice darkened. "I failed to make Yurie love me back then. The least I can do now is give her the best life possible."

"But, Sir—"

"Rachel has me. Isn’t that enough?" he interrupted. "Make sure the infertility diagnosis is flawless. She must never find out."

The doctor fell silent. After all, this was the Smith Family’s private hospital.

A cold, suffocating emptiness swallowed me whole. I had carried his child—our child—more than once. And he had killed them. All of them.

My body trembled uncontrollably. The man I had respected, loved and trusted with all my heart had been slowly destroying me from within. It explained everything—the times when his usual gentleness gave way to an almost ruthless fervor at night. I had thought he was merely overwhelmed with stress. I had never rejected him.

How foolish I had been. He never wanted our child to live. As long as the only descendant of the Smith Family was Yurie Scott’s son, she would retain control and he would ensure no one threatened that future.

I had considered taking precautions, but I never doubted his infertility reports. He had made them too convincing.

Whenever I suffered heavy bleeding, I blamed my fragile body. I never suspected the truth. He would always hold me in his arms, whispering sweetly, "Rachel, it's normal for women to have irregular periods. I'll go buy you painkillers."

Painkillers. The very pills that stopped the bleeding from my miscarriages. Tears blurred my vision as I stood frozen outside the doctor’s office, my world collapsing around me.

John had never loved me. He had only ever loved her.