“You’re going to be a great mom baby.” The words were like a whisper compared to the loud thoughts that consumed my brain. My body was rigid and my eyes were having a staring competition with the two blue lines from the pregnancy test on the bathroom counter.
“Did you hear me Candace? We’re going to be parents!” Overcome with emotion, Darius walked over to me, picked me up and spun me around in celebration. His smile was bright and his eyes danced as he looked right into mine. Noticing my lack of excitement, he tilted his head in confusion.
After a while, I break the awkward silence. “I thought we were going to wait?”
“Well,” he replied, placing me back on to the ground. “I thought we were too, but, here we are.” He was going to say more but paused and asked, “Why are you crying?”
I hadn’t even noticed that tears had began falling from my eyes. I was stunned. I had taken the steps to avoid this… I was taking my birth control religiously unbeknownst to Darius. How could this have happened?
Darius grabbed me and held me close as he stroked his finger through my hair.
I’m sobbing now. I try to find the words to say as I feel his body tensing in annoyance. “What if I’m not a good mom?”
He sighed and rubbed his hand across his head. “Just because you didn’t have a mother doesn’t mean you can’t figure out how to be one.” He snapped, his tone sharp and cruel.
“Maybe we can talk about this when you’re not being a prick.” I push him away and as I walk out of the bathroom, he grabs my wrist tight.
“Grow up Candace. Please. I’m just being realistic.You’re not the only mom that didn’t have a mom. It’s not a big deal.” He was visually flustered, his cheeks were red and his chest heaved in and out.
“Are you serious?” I ask, staring in disbelief. I don’t even know why I’m shocked. His whole Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde routine has become a norm.
“Dead serious.” His response is cold, chilling. His dark brown eyes are piercing into mine as His grip on my wrist grows tighter.
“You’re hurting me Darius.” I tell him, trying to wiggle my wrist free.
He lets me go and walks out of the bathroom I follow him, because I know that’s what he wants. He grabs his keys and his jacket and heads towards the door.
“Where are you going?” I ask with concern in my tone, even though I’m grateful that I’ll have some time alone to figure out what I’m going to do about this… visitor that has taken home in my body.
“Out to celebrate.” he kissed me on my cheek and whispered menacingly, “We’re having a baby, baby.”
I’m working on setting the tone for thriller pieces and would really appreciate your feedback! :)
