They Thought Her Weight Caused the Miscarriages, So Her Husband and In-Laws Threw Her Out — Unaware…-hongtran

When he finally pushed his plate away, Nyla took a slow breath and placed the referral paper on the table.
Terrence looked down at it like it was trash.
“What’s this?” he asked.
Nyla kept her voice soft. “It’s from a specialist. The doctor said we should both get tested.”
Terrence’s eyes lifted, and the anger came fast. Too fast.
“So you did go behind my back,” he snapped.
Nyla’s heart thumped. “I wasn’t trying to disrespect you. I just—”
Terrence stood so hard the chair scraped the floor.
“You just what?” he barked. “You trying to say I’m the reason you can’t keep a baby?”
Nyla flinched. “I didn’t say that,” she whispered. “The doctor said it could be either of us. We need to know.”
Terrence laughed.
Not a funny laugh. A bitter laugh.
“In this family, men are not the problem,” he said. “You hear me? Men are not the problem.”
And right on time, the phone rang.
Terrence glanced at the screen and answered immediately.
“Hey, Mama.”
Nyla didn’t even need speakerphone to hear Ivonne’s voice. That woman’s voice was loud enough to travel through walls.
“What’s wrong with her now?” Ivonne demanded.
Terrence looked at Nyla while talking to his mother, like Nyla wasn’t even human.
“She went to a clinic,” he said. “And now she’s saying I should get tested.”
There was a pause.
Then Ivonne exploded.
“Tested?” she shouted. “Terrence, don’t let that woman embarrass you. She’s trying to shift blame because she knows she’s the problem.”
Nyla’s fingers curled into her palm.
Ivonne’s voice kept coming, sharp and proud.
“She’s big, Terrence. Big women have problems. Don’t let her bring shame on you.”
Terrence nodded like Ivonne was preaching truth.
Then he looked at Nyla and delivered the verdict.
“We’re not doing no tests. End of discussion.”
And Nyla realized the paper meant nothing in that house.
Facts meant nothing. Truth meant nothing.
Only pride mattered.
Two weeks passed.
Nyla’s body started acting different again. Her chest felt tender. Her stomach turned at smells.
And her period didn’t come.
Nyla sat on the edge of the bathtub holding another test with shaking hands.
Two lines. Positive.
Again.
Her mouth opened, but no sound came out.
Because it wasn’t excitement this time.
It was fear.
Nyla didn’t tell Terrence immediately. She kept it quiet, hoping she could get to the clinic first, hoping she could confirm everything before the Grant family turned it into a circus.
But Terrence had already started changing.
He stayed out late—not once, not twice, but three, four nights a week.
And when Nyla asked where he was, he didn’t answer with love.
He answered with irritation.
“Stop questioning me,” he snapped. “You act like my mother.”
Nyla wanted to laugh, because his mother was the reason he was like this.
Then came the night that shattered everything.
Terrence walked in wearing a new shirt, smelling like expensive cologne, confidence hanging off him like jewelry.
Nyla stood in the hallway, heart beating fast.
“Where were you?” she asked.
Terrence didn’t even take off his shoes.
“I’m done hiding,” he said.
Nyla’s throat tightened. “Hiding what?”
Terrence stepped aside.
And that’s when Nyla saw her.
A woman walked in like she belonged there.
Her name was Sabrina Wells—a slim, flashy woman with loud nails and louder energy, the type who smiled like she was already winning.
Sabrina looked Nyla up and down, then smirked.
Terrence lifted his chin like a man about to announce good news.
“Sabrina’s pregnant,” he said.
Nyla felt the room spin.
“What?” she whispered.
Terrence’s voice got colder, like he enjoyed her shock.