The Girl He Hide
898 Words
After the second abortion, I stopped feeling like a person.
I became something empty.
Something quiet.
Something that existed only when Damien needed me.
Days passed without messages. Without calls. Without explanations.
When he finally came back, he brought excuses instead of apologies.
“I’ve been stressed,” he said. “Work is killing me.”
I nodded.
I always nodded.
Because every time I tried to speak about my pain, he reminded me of everything he had done “for me.”
The money.
The clinics.
The secrecy.
“You should be grateful,” he once said when I cried too much.
Grateful.
For losing two children.
For bleeding alone.
For loving a man who could not love me back.
It was a rainy evening when I first heard her name.
We were sitting in his car, the windows fogged, the silence thick between us.
“My life is complicated right now,” he said suddenly.
My heart tightened. “What do you mean?”
“There’s a girl,” he said. “She’s trying to ruin me.”
I turned to him slowly. “Another girl?”
“She’s lying,” he said quickly. “She says she’s pregnant.”
The world stopped.
Pregnant.
Again.
Not me.
Someone else.
My hands started shaking so badly I had to sit on them.
“You… you got another girl pregnant?” I whispered.
“No,” he said sharply. “She’s trying to trap me. She’s a scammer. I barely even touched her.”
Barely.
The word burned.
“She wants money,” he continued. “She says if I don’t pay her, she’ll tell the police and my family that I forced her.”
Fear crept into his eyes.
And for the first time, I saw something new in him.
Not love.
Not anger.
Panic.
“What are you going to do?” I asked.
“I already handled it,” he said. “I paid for an abortion.”
My chest tightened painfully.
“So… it’s over?”
He hesitated.
Too long.
“She said she did it,” he said finally. “The doctor confirmed.”
But his voice was not steady.
And something inside me whispered:
This is not over.
Days later, curiosity became torture.
I couldn’t sleep.
Couldn’t eat.
Couldn’t stop imagining another girl carrying his child while mine were already gone.
So I did something I had never done before.
I searched.
I found her on social media by accident.
Her name was Mira Blake.
Beautiful. Confident. Smiling in every picture.
The kind of girl Damien always liked.
I stared at her page for hours.
And then I saw it.
A picture posted two weeks earlier.
Her hand on her stomach.
The caption:
Some blessings come in unexpected ways.
My heart almost stopped.
That night, when Damien came to see me, I showed him the picture.
His face went white.
“That means nothing,” he said quickly. “She’s lying.”
“She looks pregnant,” I whispered.
“She’s crazy,” he snapped. “She wants attention.”
But his hands were shaking.
Two days later, he disappeared again.
No calls.
No texts.
Nothing.
On the third night, I got a message from an unknown number.
You’re Liana, right?
My heart jumped.
Who is this? I replied.
The girl you’re crying over doesn’t love you, the message came back.
Because the man you love is mine.
My breath caught in my throat.
You’re Mira.
A typing bubble appeared.
Then:
Yes. And I’m carrying his child.
The room spun.
I don’t know how long I stared at the phone before replying.
He said you aborted it.
Three dots appeared.
Then her reply came.
He paid for it. But I never did it.
My hands flew to my mouth.
Why would you lie? I typed.
She sent a laughing emoji.
Because I wanted him to marry me.
And then she sent something that destroyed me completely.
A picture.
Damien.
Sleeping in her bed.
Taken two nights after my second abortion.
I collapsed onto the floor, sobbing so hard my chest hurt.
He had left me bleeding…
To go and sleep with her.
The messages kept coming.
He promised me a future.
He said you were just a mistake.
He said you trapped him with pregnancies on purpose.
I couldn’t breathe.
Every word felt like a knife.
The doctor helped me, she added.
He told Damien I aborted it so he would relax and pay me more later.
Doctor.
Abortion.
Lie.
A cold realization settled in my bones.
This was bigger than cheating.
This was a trap.
And Damien…
Damien was not just a liar.
He was part of something dangerous.
When I confronted him the next day, he denied everything.
“She’s manipulating you,” he shouted. “She wants to break us apart!”
But I showed him the messages.
The pictures.
The proof.
His face crumbled.
He sank into a chair, holding his head.
“She ruined me,” he whispered.
“No,” I said quietly, tears streaming down my face.
“You ruined me.”
That night, for the first time since I met him, I packed my bag.
But I did not know yet…
That walking away would pull me into the darkest part of this story.
One that would involve lies, doctors, blackmail…
And the police.
- Writer
