Laura Martín was seven months pregnant when her marriage finally fell apart in the most brutal way imaginable. That afternoon, in their small apartment in Valencia, she had agreed to something she should never have tolerated: coming face to face with Sofía, her husband’s mistress. Daniel Ortega insisted that “it was better to talk everything through like adults,” that this way they could close the chapter and “move on.” Laura, tired but still clinging to the hope of protecting her child, agreed.
Sofia arrived self-assured, with a strained smile and her arms crossed. She didn’t apologize or show any shame. On the contrary, she sat on the sofa as if it belonged to her. Daniel paced nervously, avoiding Laura’s eyes. It only took five minutes for the conversation to turn into recriminations. Sofia insinuated that the pregnancy was “a mistake,” that Daniel no longer loved his wife, that she was “the future.”
Laura felt the air leave her chest. She tried to stay calm, remembered the doctor’s words, and took a deep breath. She asked Daniel to stop, to make Sofía leave. That’s when he exploded. First he yelled. Then he slammed his fist on the table. Then, without warning, he shoved her hard against the wall.
Laura fell to the ground, clutching her stomach. The pain was immediate, both physical and emotional. Sofia froze, but didn’t intervene. Daniel, beside himself with rage, kicked her leg and grabbed her arm. Laura screamed, cried for help, begged for her child. In a moment of clarity, she managed to reach her phone and dialed emergency services.
—112, I need help— she said between sobs. —My husband is hitting me. I’m pregnant.
The operator remained calm and asked him to leave the phone on the line. Daniel realized this too late. He tried to snatch it back, but the sirens were already approaching. When the police burst into the apartment, they found Laura on the floor, trembling, with Daniel still yelling at her. Without hesitation, the officers pushed him against the wall, handcuffed him in front of Sofia, and read him his rights. That moment changed everything.
The ambulance arrived almost at the same time as the police. Paramedics attended to Laura quickly, first checking on the baby. Despite the shock and the blows, the fetus’s heartbeat was normal. Even so, they decided to take her to the hospital for observation. As they lifted her onto the stretcher, Laura saw Daniel sitting on the floor, handcuffed, staring blankly. She felt no pity. Only a cold emptiness.
At the police station, Daniel tried to justify himself. He said he was stressed, that it had been “an argument that got out of hand.” Sofía, called as a witness, tried to downplay what happened, but the medical reports, the recordings of the 911 call, and the visible marks on Laura’s body spoke for themselves. The complaint was registered as gender-based violence with the aggravating circumstance of pregnancy.
At the hospital, Laura spent the night connected to monitors. She thought about the years of silence, the small humiliations she had normalized, the times she told herself that Daniel “wasn’t like that.” Her mother arrived in the early hours of the morning and hugged her without asking any questions. For the first time in a long time, Laura allowed herself to cry without feeling guilty.
The next day, a social worker explained her options: a restraining order, psychological support, and legal assistance. Laura listened attentively. She understood that she wasn’t alone, that the system could protect her if she dared to take the full step. She signed the application for the protection order and accepted the support.
Daniel was brought before a judge in less than 48 hours. The judge ordered him held without bail while the investigation proceeded, due to the seriousness of the case and the risk to the victim. Sofía disappeared; no one saw her again at the hospital or the courthouse.
During the following weeks, Laura recovered physically and began a difficult but necessary emotional process. She learned not to justify violence, to recognize the signs she had previously ignored. Each ultrasound was a reminder of why she had survived. Her son deserved to be born in a safe environment, far from fear.
The day she finally left the hospital, Laura walked slowly in the sunshine. She didn’t know exactly what her future held, but for the first time, she wasn’t terrified. She had lost a marriage, yes, but she had gained something far more important: the chance to start over without violence.
Months later, Laura held her son in her arms for the first time. The delivery was long, but without complications. As she watched him sleep, she understood that her story wasn’t just hers. It was the story of many women who remain silent out of fear, shame, or because they believe it “isn’t that serious.” She, too, had thought that way until she was on the floor, protecting her womb.
The legal process continued. Daniel was sentenced to several years in prison and a long-term restraining order. The sentence didn’t erase the past, but it sent a clear message: violence has consequences. Laura attended therapy, participated in support groups, and gradually regained her self-confidence.
Over time, she decided to share her experience with local organizations. She wasn’t seeking pity, but prevention. She explained how it all started with yelling, with control, with jealousy disguised as love. She repeated a phrase that was now etched in her mind: “The first act of aggression is never the last if it isn’t stopped.”
Today, Laura lives in a small apartment, filled with light and toys. She works, takes care of her son, and has learned to ask for help without feeling weak. She knows that reporting the abuse saved her life, and possibly her baby’s. Every time she passes a police station, she remembers that call to 112 and is grateful she dialed that number.
If you’ve read this far, this story isn’t just for reading and forgetting. It’s for reflection. Domestic violence exists, it happens all around us, and it often goes unnoticed. If you or someone close to you is experiencing a similar situation, don’t look the other way. Speak up, share your story, ask for help.
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