Hard Place

_{Pexels - Rene Asmussen edited on Canva Pro}

Humans are such complex beings. You think you know them but they just turn around and prove you wrong. You want to give them the benefit of the doubt but it's futile.

I should feel something right now. Anger. Pain. Disappointment? The fact that I feel nothing as I stare at my lying boyfriend and his bestie says a lot about what I thought of his person. Deep down I knew but I just couldn't prove it.

He is touching me now, trying to get me to listen. Same hands I saw him put on her, right on the same bed I left this morning for work. What even brought me here during my lunch break? Oh. Yeah. I missed him.

I don't know what he sees when he looks into my eyes but I definitely see the eyes of a liar staring back at me. Those deep browns now appall me and so does his touch. The girl is trying to tuck herself into a corner. To think I actually liked her. But I won't blame her. She's not my boyfriend. Ex-boyfriend.

I pull away from him and turn around to leave. He doesn't let me. He turns with me and gets to his knees, holding me in place with his huge arms circling my waist. His face is buried in my stomach and he's begging. What does he think his begging would do? Relieve me of what I just experienced?

"Stop." I tell him. I feel nauseous.

He refused, holding me firmly.
"Margaret please don't leave. I beg you. Let's talk."

He lifts his head to look at me and I lose it. I bulk over and push away from him as I begin to lose the contents of my stomach.

I hear him cuss beside me as he holds my hair up. He says something to the girl who was quiet the whole time and she disappears from the room. My stomach continues to roil, and I unapologetically spill the contents of my stomach on his floor. He doesn't seem to mind.

I try to slap his hand away but my head spins and the world fades around me…

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When I open my eyes, I'm in a hospital room. There's so much white it makes my stomach churn. I sit up and he's there. There's something different with his attention.

Brendon was always attentive but I know him. He only gets this way when I'm sick. He's adjusting my pillow and asking me if I want some water. He doesn't wait for my answer before he turns to the dispenser and fills a plastic cup with warm water.

"What did the doctor say?" I ask when he returns and hands me the cup. I don't take it though, I just look at him.

He retracts and sets the cup on the table beside the bed. There's an IV connected to my right hand. I just noticed.

He drags a chair and sits beside me. He reaches for my hand but I retract it. He dares to look heartbroken. The anger comes but I repress it.

"It's…you're okay. You're…three weeks pregnant." He eyes me cautiously as he says it. Like he knows I'm going to lose my shit.

"I'm... what?" I don't recognize my own voice.

"You're…." He blows out a breath and scoots closer, "We're having a baby." He's smiling.

He's smiling. What we?

"There is no we."

And just like that, he loses the smile. His eyes dart to the right and then he shakes his head.

"Please Maggie. I know. I have no excuse. It was a moment of weakness. Maggie please…"

"I'm not having it. I'm not having this baby."

The tension in the room grows by a hundred percent. His face is as pale as a ghost.

"Maggie. I know I hurt you real bad. It's all my fault. You didn't deserve it. I'm so sorry. I'm very sorry. Let me make it up to you. To both of you."

Is he serious? And then I realize I'm laughing. The nerve of this guy.

"So what? You apologize now? What If I never showed up? Would you have apologized? Would you have said you're sorry? You expect that I move past what I saw? Oh typical Brendon! Always having his way. With everyone!"

I'm yelling. He just stares at me. My chest is hurting now and so are my eyes. I'm crying. What I hate most at this moment is that he is looking at me like he's the one hurt. He has nerve!

"You're sorry. Okay. Now what? You get to have your way outside of our relationship. You get to be that person who gets it all. And you just say sorry? Sorry?!"

The door opens and a nurse peeks in. She pauses at the door and takes in the scene.

"I'm sorry. Is something the matter?"

Brendon, quick to speak for me, turns to her and shakes his head.

"No. Nothing nurse. We're just having a conversation."

The woman looks from me to him for several seconds and then nods her head.
"Okay but please keep it down. This is a hospital."

"Yes. Thank you."

So calm. So collected. The cool one. He was always that. So calm. He thinks he has me where he wants me. Like he did. He thinks because of this baby, I won't leave. I can practically hear his thoughts when he turns back to me.

I glare and he tries to fix my hair.
"Enough!" I slap his hand away.

"We'll talk when you're calmer. We're both stressed right now and it wouldn't be good for the baby."

Did he not hear a word I said? But why am I surprised? He has always been like this. Making decisions for me, talking over me and being pretentious. It was endearing at first when he'd order my meals and handle my schedule. But it's out of hand. He's always trying to bring me under his thumb.

"I don't know if you're deaf. But I said there's no us and there'll be no baby."

His countenance changes for just a second before he assumes that sickening cool. I want to slap him.

"You want water?" He reaches for the cup and thrusts it to me, "The doctor said you were a bit dehydrated. You need to take better care of yourself. I will have to readjust your diet. No more work. She also said you need to eat more of–"

SMACK!

I whack him so hard across the face, the water spills unto the bed and the cup falls out of hand. My body is vibrating. There's a long pause, his face turned away from me from the impact of my hand.

"Get. Out." I say

He turns to look at me. His face set in a scowl and his jaw hard. His eyes are cold.

There's the control freak!

I almost cower like I always do. I almost slump in fear, an apology at the tip of my tongue. He scares me, no doubt but if I'm to end this, I need to grow a backbone.

"Get out!" I yell.

The nurse comes in again. Had she been outside all along?

"What's the problem?" She walks towards us. Her eyebrows are drawn and she looks ready for a fight. I don't know her but her presence is just what I needed. I need him out of here and out of my life.

He opens his mouth to answer for me again but I beat him to it,
"I need him to leave. He is not welcome here."

I look him right in the eye as I say it. He doesn't show any hint of surprise or shock. He just keeps his eyes pinned on mine.

"Mister. I'll need you to leave or I will have to call security."

He blinks. Then nods. Then he's out. The nurse asks me if I'm fine and I let her know I am. The adrenaline has worn off and now I'm shaking in my boots.

He is all I have. I have no one else. I don't even have money.

Tears pour down my face as the realization sets. And he knows it...

I bawl my eyes out until I'm exhausted. When I wipe my eyes dry, I'm left with one other option. My parents.

Would they take me back? I was blinded by whatever this was. They warned me but I didn't listen. I wanted the life my friends had. Would they take me back? I was just 18 when I left home with a man I barely knew. Ten years later, I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place.

I throw my legs over the edge of the bed and they dangle. I pick up the telephone and dial the number imprinted on my mind since I was a child. It rings and my heart pounds.

"Hello." Came the voice of my father. I haven't heard him in years. I am crying again.

"Margaret? Margaret! Angel. Where are you? Oh God! You're alive!"

And I'm crying harder.

I hear my mother in the background. She's frantic and muffled but I hear her panic.

"Angel. Why are you crying? Tell me what's going on? Did that bastard do something?"

My father is angry. Genuinely angry. Not at me. He's not angry at me. I can't stop the tears. I can't talk. I sob. I want my parents.

I hear my mother again before she comes to the phone,
"Maggie, darling! Please say something. Where are you? I and your father will come. Just tell us."

"Houston…hospital…" is all I manage before I hear my father saying something rapidly in the background.

"We'll be there honey. Your father is booking us tickets. Just stay there. We're coming for you baby. We'll call you again soon. Be strong for me."

"Maggie…"

I hear my father's muffled voice before he takes the phone.

"I love you darling. My Angel. Be strong."

I'm nodding and then I'm crying. By the time I end the call, two things are clear. I'm going back home after ten years of radio silence and…I'm going to be a single mother.

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