The nurses tried to intervene. They explained that nothing had been officially recorded yet, that medical reviews were still pending, that there could be explanations. But Javier wouldn’t listen. He pointed at me with disgust and said one final thing that shattered everything:

“I won’t live with this humiliation.”

Then he walked out of the hospital.

He didn’t ask for proof.
He didn’t ask for my version.
He didn’t look back.

I was left alone with five newborns, surrounded by whispers and uncomfortable silence. I didn’t cry. I couldn’t. I just held my children close, terrified of falling apart if I let go.

In the days that followed, the air was heavy with rumors and judgment. Some believed I had betrayed my marriage. Others suspected a hospital error. No one had answers. Javier never returned. He changed his number, moved away, and erased us from his life as if we had never existed.

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