She said she could never be a mother. But life had other plans.
Nina was chopping vegetables for dinner when there was a sharp knock at the door. Standing on the doorstep was a woman with a steely gaze and a frosty smile. It was Kate—Roman’s ex-wife. Without waiting for an invitation, she stepped inside and announced bluntly:
“We need to talk. Alone.”
Roman frowned.
“I have no secrets from my wife.”
Nina, feeling out of place, hesitated before offering:
“I could go to the shop if—”
“No need,” her husband said firmly.
Kate sighed but relented.
“Fine. Let her stay. This concerns her too.”
Nina perched on the edge of a chair. Her wariness gave way to uneasy curiosity. She couldn’t begin to guess what was coming next.
Kate spoke with certainty, like someone who had long since made up her mind.
“The twins are nine now. I’ve carried them half their lives. Now it’s your turn. Starting tomorrow, they live with you.”
“What?” Roman shot to his feet. “Have you lost your mind? Do you even care how this will affect them?”
“I’ve thought about it,” Kate replied without a trace of guilt. “And then I remembered I’m human too. I’m done. School, clubs, homework—that’s your problem now. I’ll be the weekend mum.”
“They’re children, not luggage!” Nina said softly.
Kate’s face hardened.
“No one pitied me! This is how it’s going to be. Refuse, and I’ll take you to court. Lose your rights. Understood?”
She left, the silence in the flat stretched taut as a wire.
“What do we do?” Roman turned to Nina.
She nodded slowly.
“Bring them here. But we do it legally. Otherwise, she’ll change her mind in a month, and the kids can’t go through that. They aren’t chess pieces.”
Roman exhaled heavily.
“And you? Are you ready?”
“I already get along with them. You know I can’t have my own. Maybe this is my chance…”
Nina had learned she was infertile at twenty. A friend convinced her to get tested—there was a discount at a private clinic. Back then, it seemed like a formality.
But the doctor’s verdict was brutal: “Only a miracle…”
Nina refused to accept it. She visited three more clinics. The answer was the same. IVF wasn’t an option either—her diagnosis was too severe.
She went through it all—tears, despair, rage, acceptance. She even considered adoption but feared she couldn’t love a child not her own.
Every man she dated heard the truth early. Some pretended it didn’t matter—until it did. By thirty, she was alone. But she wasn’t unhappy—she worked, travelled, lived fully.
Then Roman came along. Five years older, with twins from his first marriage. He knew about her infertility and didn’t flinch—he already had children.
He was warm, attentive. He loved her deeply, and she loved him back. They married. Life was peaceful. The twins liked her—well-mannered, cheerful kids who accepted her.
Then came Kate’s visit. Everything changed. The twins moved in.
The first months were hard. Nina rearranged their lives, turned the spare room into a nursery. Helped with homework, drove them to clubs, worried over them like her own.
Vicky grew especially close, sharing secrets, calling her “Mum.” Jay was more reserved but respectful. And then Nina realised—her miracle had happened.
A year later, Kate wanted them back.
“Enough of this. They’re coming home,” she declared.
Nina stood her ground.
“No. Their living arrangements are official now. They’ve just settled in. Think about them, not yourself.”
Kate fumed, tried guilt trips. But the children spoke for themselves.
“We’re staying here. With Dad and Nina.”
And that was that.
A year later, when life had calmed, Roman took her hand one evening.
“You’re their real mum now. I’ll never forget what you’ve done.”
Nina squeezed his fingers.
“Once, a doctor told me I’d only be a mother if a miracle happened. It did. I love them as if they were mine. And I’ll never let them go.”