The doctor said it was too late for a safe termination; it could endanger Olivia’s life. That night, we sat around the dining table. My father spoke first, his voice low and commanding. “Our family has to stick together. Aiden, you’re the older brother. You have to help her.”
I was stunned. “Help how? I just started working. I have Lauren. I have my own future.”
My mother cried, grabbing my hand. “Aiden, don’t you see how much your sister is suffering? She’s been weak since birth. You have to share this burden with her.”
My father continued, his tone unyielding. “Olivia needs to give birth safely. After that, she can’t raise a child alone. Aiden, you have to provide financial support.”
His words cut like a sharp knife. It was like a curse, binding me to the role of the sacrificer.
I looked at my mother, hoping she’d say something different, but she only sobbed. “Aiden, you’re the pillar of this family. If you don’t help, Olivia might do something desperate.”
I looked at Olivia, whispering, “I’m sorry. I don’t know what to do.” In that moment, I saw my little sister again, lying in the incubator, so fragile. I knew I couldn’t let her harm herself or the baby.
“Alright,” I said, my voice breaking. “I’ll help.”
The months that followed were a blur of relentless work. I cut back on all personal expenses. I bought formula, diapers, baby clothes, and took Olivia to her prenatal checkups. Each time I saw her belly growing larger, I felt a mix of joy and dread. Joy, because the babies—twins, as the doctor revealed—were healthy. Dread, because the financial burden had doubled.
Olivia, however, didn’t change. “I’m exhausted from being pregnant,” she’d say when I asked about preparing for motherhood. “You take care of everything.”
The night before she gave birth, I couldn’t sleep. I sat in my small apartment, staring at a photo of Lauren and me. Her smile felt distant, like it belonged to another life. Was I losing her?
After ten agonizing hours of waiting at the hospital, the doctor came out smiling. “Congratulations, two healthy boys.” I trembled, tears welling up. My parents named them Matthew and Joshua. In the first few weeks, I kept my promise, buying everything they needed. Olivia stayed at our parents’ house, but she didn’t care for her children. “I don’t know how to be a mom,” she said, her tone irritable.
Six months later, the real shock hit. One morning, my mother called, her voice frantic. “Aiden! Olivia’s gone!”
I raced to my parents’ house. Matthew and Joshua were in their cribs, crying inconsolably. Olivia’s note lay on the table, her handwriting scrawled: Dad, Mom, Aiden, I can’t do this. Please take care of the kids. I’m sorry.
I trembled with rage and pain. “How dare she?” I muttered.
My parents sat there, their faces weary. “Aiden, we’re too old to handle two babies,” my father said.
“You raised them!” I shouted. “Why me? They’re Olivia’s kids!”
My father snapped, “Olivia’s gone! She was overwhelmed! Don’t you understand?”
My mother cried, “Aiden, you’re the pillar of this family. If you don’t raise them, who will?”
I looked at Matthew and Joshua, and my heart broke. I couldn’t abandon them. “Alright,” I said, my voice choked. “I’ll raise them.”
I brought them to my small apartment. Lauren stood at the door, looking at the two cribs, her eyes brimming with tears. “Aiden, I’m not sure I can do this,” she said.
I hugged her, whispering, “It’s only temporary, I promise.” But deep down, I knew nothing was temporary.
My small apartment was now cramped with two cribs, the cries of Matthew and Joshua echoing through the night. I juggled work and caring for them, a machine running on fumes. Lauren tried to help, but I could see her growing exhausted, the spark in her eyes gradually fading.
One evening, she sat across from me. “Aiden, we need to talk.” I knew this moment was coming. “I love you,” she began, her eyes red, “but I can’t keep doing this. You’re living for those two kids, for your family, but what about me? What about us?”
“Lauren, I don’t have a choice. They’re my nephews.”
She nodded, tears streaming down her face. “I know. But I don’t want to live raising someone else’s kids. I want a family of our own, Aiden. I can’t wait forever.”
She stood, grabbing her suitcase. “I’m leaving,” she said, her voice trembling. I wanted to hold her back, to beg her to stay, but I just sat there, watching her pack. When the door closed, I heard her sobs from the hallway, and I knew I’d lost her.
The days that followed were a blur. I looked in the mirror and saw a stranger, gaunt and haunted. I was only twenty-eight, but I looked a decade older. Gradually, I learned to adapt. I found a daytime babysitter, Mrs. Mary, an older woman who loved Matthew and Joshua like her own grandchildren. “You’re a wonderful father,” she said once.
“I’m not their father.”
She just smiled. “You raised them. You love them. That makes you their father.”
The moments with Matthew and Joshua were the faint glimmers of light in my darkness. But when night fell, the loneliness returned.
Nine years passed in the blink of an eye. Matthew and Joshua were now nine, bright, well-behaved boys who excelled in school. My life revolved around them. I’d missed out on several promotions because I couldn’t work overtime or travel. I didn’t date, didn’t go out, didn’t have a life of my own. My parents still visited, though less frequently. Olivia remained a ghost.
One evening, as I read to Joshua, the doorbell rang. When I opened it, I froze. Olivia stood there, her hair dyed blonde, lips painted bright red, wearing a tight leather jacket. She looked like she’d just stepped out of a party.
“Aiden,” she said casually, as if she’d only left yesterday. “I want to see the kids.”
I stood blocking the doorway, my hand gripping the knob. “Olivia, what are you doing here?”
She shrugged. “I miss them. I’m their mother, aren’t I?”
I wanted to scream, to ask where she’d been for nine years. Just then, Matthew and Joshua appeared behind me. “Uncle Aiden, who’s that?”
Olivia peered over my shoulder, her eyes lighting up. “Oh, they’ve grown so much.” She stepped forward, but I raised a hand.
“Wait. You can’t just show up and demand to see them.”
“They’re my kids, Aiden. You have no right to stop me.”
I led her out into the hallway. “What do you want, Olivia?”
She crossed her arms. “I want to take the kids back. I’m ready to be a mother.”
I let out a bitter laugh. “Ready? After nine years? Do you know Matthew’s afraid of the dark? That Joshua loves adventure books? What do you know about them, besides the fact that you abandoned them?”
She glared at me. “You’ll regret saying that, Aiden. They’re my kids, and I’ll take them back.”
The next day, my parents called me to their house. Olivia was there, crying. “I want the kids back with me,” she said.
My mother interrupted my angry retort. “Aiden, don’t be so harsh. Olivia is their mother. She has rights.”
I turned to her, feeling betrayed. “Rights? Do you remember how she abandoned them? Do you remember what I had to give up?”
My father slammed the table. “Enough, Aiden! You’re being selfish. You have to give in to your sister.”
“Selfish?” I laughed bitterly. “Do you two have any idea what I’ve lost?”
But their eyes were full of bias. “Aiden, you should give Olivia a chance,” my mother pleaded.
I stood up, unable to take it anymore. “I won’t let her take them. Never.”
A few days later, the doorbell rang. Olivia stood there, beside her were my parents and a stranger in a black suit. “I’m Christopher Blake,” the man said, handing me a business card. “Attorney for Ms. Olivia Lane. We’re here to discuss custody.”
My heart stopped.
We sat around the dining table. “Mr. Lane,” Blake began, “my client is requesting custody. As their biological mother, she has legal rights.”
“Legal rights?” I said through gritted teeth. “She abandoned them when they were six months old!”
“Aiden,” my mother said, her voice trembling, “don’t be so harsh. She wants to make things right.”
“Make things right?” I nearly shouted. “Do you see what I’ve sacrificed? I lost Lauren, my career, my entire life!”
My father’s voice was like thunder. “Enough! This is what’s best for everyone. You won’t have to bear the responsibility anymore. Olivia is their mother, and the law will side with her.”
I felt like the whole world was against me. Back in the living room, I looked at Olivia, my parents, and Mr. Blake. “Fine,” I said, my voice sounding like it belonged to someone else. “I’ll let her take them. But I’m warning you, Olivia. If you hurt them, I’ll never forgive you.”
The day of the handover was a nightmare. The boys clung to me, sobbing. “Uncle Aiden, why do we have to go?”
“I don’t want to live with her! I want to stay with you!”
I knelt, hugging them tightly, tears streaming down my face. “Kids, I love you more than anything. I’ll always be here for you.”
Olivia stood at the door, looking away. I handed them over, each step they took tearing my heart apart. When the car door closed, I collapsed, my world crumbled.
The days that followed were a blur of despair. I couldn’t sit still. I contacted Aaron Fox, a private investigator. “I need you to follow my sister,” I said. “She just took back the two kids I raised for nine years. I need to know they’re safe.”
A week later, Aaron called. We met at a small diner. He slid a folder across the table. “Brace yourself.”
I opened it. The photos hit me like a punch. Olivia was living in a run-down apartment with a disheveled man with bloodshot eyes, clearly an addict. Another photo showed them arguing. But what stopped my heart was the image of Matthew and Joshua huddled in a corner, pale and wide-eyed with fear.
“Aiden,” Aaron said, his voice low, “Olivia’s living with this guy, Derek, a heavy addict. They fight constantly. The kids aren’t being cared for. And I overheard Olivia yelling that she only wants money from the boys’ biological father.”
“Money from their father?”
Aaron nodded. “I dug deeper. The boys’ father is Jake Miller, the guy who left her. He’s now a successful businessman. Olivia contacted him, demanding child support, using the kids as leverage. She doesn’t want to be a mother, Aiden. She’s using them.”
I sat there, stunned. Olivia hadn’t returned out of love. She came back for money. “She dares,” I muttered, my fists clenched.
That night, I researched Jake Miller. I found him on social media, living a luxurious life. Finally, I went to his office. He was tall, dressed in a sharp suit, but his face paled when he saw me.
“I’m Aiden Lane,” I said firmly. “You’re the father of Matthew and Joshua. Olivia is using them to extort money from you.”
Jake led me to his office. His hands trembled. “I know. She contacted me a few months ago. I refused because I have a family now.”
“Olivia is abusing the kids. I need your help.”
Jake bowed his head. “I was wrong to abandon my boys. I’ll help you. Whatever it takes.”
He agreed to be a witness and provide financial support. I felt a glimmer of hope. I met with a new lawyer—Christopher Blake. My friend had explained, “Blake works for whoever pays him. If you have evidence and good money, he’ll take your side.” When I laid the photos in front of him, he frowned. “This is strong evidence, Mr. Lane. If Jake Miller agrees to testify, your chances will improve.”
The courtroom was cold and harsh. I sat beside Blake, clutching my folder of evidence. Olivia sat across from us, my parents behind her. Olivia’s lawyer painted her as a repentant mother, and me as a selfish man with no legal rights.
Then it was my turn. Blake called me to the stand. I recounted the nine years of sacrifice. “I’m not their biological father,” I said, my voice choking, “but I love them more than anyone. I can’t let them live with a mother who sees them only as tools for profit.”
Blake presented the evidence: Aaron’s photos, testimonies from Mrs. Mary and the boys’ teacher, Ms. Sarah. Finally, Jake took the stand. “I was wrong to abandon my boys,” he said, his voice low. “But I know Aiden is the only one who truly loves and cares for them. Olivia just wants to exploit them.”
The judge questioned Olivia sternly. “Ms. Lane, how do you explain abandoning your children for nine years and the current living conditions you provide?” Olivia stammered, her eyes red. The judge frowned.
After what felt like an endless deliberation, she returned. “Based on the evidence and testimonies, the court grants custody of Matthew and Joshua Lane to Mr. Aiden Lane. Ms. Olivia Lane has not demonstrated her fitness as a mother, and the best interests of the children are with the person who has cared for them for nine years.”
The gavel struck. I trembled, tears streaming down my face. Olivia rushed out of the courtroom. My parents stood, my father shouting, “Aiden, you’ve disgraced this family!”
I had won the boys back, but at the cost of a permanent rift with my family.
The day I picked up Matthew and Joshua, they ran into my arms, sobbing. “Uncle Aiden, we missed you!” Olivia stood at the door, silent. I didn’t look at her, just led the boys to the car.
Jake had bought us a small villa in the suburbs with a garden. “Consider it my atonement,” he said. Matthew and Joshua ran around joyfully, their laughter filling the void in my heart. My parents stopped contacting me. Olivia vanished again.
One evening, I sat with the boys in the garden as the sunset painted the sky golden.
“Uncle Aiden?” Joshua asked. “We’ll stay with you forever, right?”
I smiled, ruffling his hair. “Forever, my love.”
Matthew hugged me. “You’re the best.”
I hugged them both, tears falling silently. I knew the road ahead wouldn’t be easy, but with them by my side, I was ready. Family, I realized, isn’t about blood. It’s about love, sacrifice, and the moments that make your heart sing. I had lost much, but I had Matthew and Joshua, and that was enough.