My Husband Promised to Take Care of the Baby If I Had One—But After I Gave Birth, He Told Me to Quit My Job

I made almost double what Nick brought home from his sales job. Not that I threw it in his face or anything.

It was just a fact, like the sky being blue or coffee being necessary for survival.

When I finally got pregnant, I was equally terrified and excited.

The ultrasound tech moved the wand across my belly, squinting at the screen. Then she smiled. “Well, looks like you’ve got two heartbeats in there.”

Nick actually whooped.

“Twins?” He grabbed my hand, his whole face lit up like Christmas morning. “Oh God, Ava. Double the dream.

This is perfect.”

I should’ve been thrilled. Instead, I felt a weird flutter of anxiety that had nothing to do with morning sickness.

“Nick,” I said carefully. “You know I can’t just stop working, right?

I mean, we’ve talked about this…”

He cut me off, squeezing my hand harder.

“Baby, I’ve got this. I’ll handle everything… diapers, midnight feedings, all of it. You’ve worked too hard to give up your career now.

I mean it.”

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