Imani

21.7K 979 32
                                    

"Can we take the Porsche?" I asked when we got to the foyer.

"Of course, anything for the Princess." He said as he grabbed the keys and lead me to the car.

The ride was silent, I was still thinking about what Nate had said. Anything for the Princess. What does that mean? What will he say when he finds out? He was bound to notice sooner or later that I'm gaining weight and I'm throwing up. "I just don't feel well" isn't going to cut it. Are we ready for a kid? I know he wants one, but he's about to turn 24 and I'm turning 22, we're still young. When do I tell him? How can I tell him?

"What do you mean when you say Anything for the Princess?" I asked quietly. Nate raised an eyebrow and looked at me. "EYES ON THE ROAD MISTER!!! Our birthday is in 2 weeks and I wanna see it."I said sternly. He laughed and reached over to hold my hand.

"It means that I love you, I'd get you the moon if you asked darling." He kissed my hand after he finished.

"You think we could get through anything?"I asked as we pulled into the church parking lot.

Nate looked at me for a minute before answering. "Together, we can get through everything. Are you okay love?" He asked as he stroked my face.

"I am now. Let's go in before we're late."

The second we got to the door, I had to throw up again. "Honey, I'll meet you inside okay?" I said.

"You alright?" Nate asked worryingly.

"GOSH I SAID I'LL MEET YOU INSIDE, GO IN THE FUCKING CHURCH NATHANIEL." I yelled. I didn't mean to yell, and the look on Nate's face made me regret it.

"I just wanted to make sure you were okay." He mumbled before going in.

I ran to the bathroom, barely making it before I threw up. I just sat on the ground when I was finished and started reciting the prayer to Saint Jude. "Oh most holy apostle, Saint Jude, friend and servant of Jesus, patron of hopeless cases, pray for me, for I am miserable.."

"Honey, you need to pray to Saint Gerard Majella. Patron Saint of Expectant Mothers." A soft voice said from behind me. "How far along are you?"

"4 weeks. I've known for a week." I said and started to cry. The lady gave me a tight hug and I cried on her habit.

"Babies are a blessing, why are you praying to the saint of desperate situations?" Sister Mary asked.

We both sat on the floor, Sister Mary put her arm around me so I could cry on her shoulder. "He's gonna leave me, he's gonna call me a gold digging whore and leave me." I sobbed.

"Does the father know?" She asked. I shook my head no.

"He probably won't notice until I look like a beached whale, or when my stomach blocks the television." We both laughed.

"Don't worry, I'm sure he won't leave you. This will all work out for you." She handed me some napkins and I wiped my face.

"Why do you look so worried?" I asked her after I finished getting myself together. She sighed and turned to me.

"The Domestic Violence speaker we booked just called to opt out for today. We're a small organization, we don't have money to find someone else on such short notice. the brunch starts in 10 minutes." Sister Mary said hysterically.

I tried to calm her down when I got a bright idea. "I'll speak. I'll speak and you don't have to pay me." I told her.

"Really? Oh thank you. God bless you." She said as we walked out of the bathroom.

I sat down next to Nate and he just slid a plate over. "I didn't know what you wanted to eat so I got you everything." He said before playing with his food.

The next five minutes was filled with an awkward silence and stealing glances at him. Was it weird that we were sitting beside each other and I missed him? I got up and sat on his lap, not caring that we were in church. "I missed you." I said in his ear. He held me tighter and rested his head on my shoulder while brunch started officially.

Sister Mary said a few words, and then it was my turn to speak.Nate walked me up to the little podium and kissed my cheek, but I turned and kissed him hard on the lips. I needed some sort of good luck.

"Good morning, I'm Imani." I said quietly. I got nervous looking at all of these ladies in the crowd. I was about to say fuck this, peace out, until I saw Nathaniel mouth 'Good luck, I love you Princess.' Then I knew I could do it.

"I was in a tough situation. My apartment building had just burned down, the person I was staying with at the time was kind of a grinch, I have no family other than a little brother and I don't have friends.

Then this guy came in to be my Romeo. He was so cute, he could be a Ryan Gosling look a like. He was well mannered and nice, and he had money. He wanted to be my superman, and I felt special, ya know?

We dated, for about 4 months, but I didn't love him. So, I told him we were breaking up, and he beat me. I had a dislocated nose and a broken rib along with countless bruises.

The thing no one tells you, is that long after the physical wounds heal, the emotional scars are still there. I blamed myself. For the longest time, I told myself that it was my fault. That he was such a good guy, that such an attractive man would never do that. I found a way to make myself the villain. I caused this and his actions were validated.

I was wrong. It wasn't my fault. No-one has the right to put their hands on you, no matter what you've said, wore or did. Please, ladies, if he hits you once, leave him. He's not worth putting your safety at risk. He might make you feel weak and powerless, but that is not true. You are strong. We are strong. We are survivors and together, we can get through this. Together, we can stop domestic violence." I finished and was greeted with a standing ovation.

Nate came over to help me to our seats, and everyone was still applauding. "That was really, really good darling." Nate said while he pulled out my chair. I shook my head no, I wanted to be in his arms again. "You should be an advocate." He said confidently. I raised an eyebrow and thought about it.

Brunch was over maybe half hour later, and Nate carried me to the car. He put on my seatbelt and then got in, and I started to tell him. "Hey Nate, I'm..." I couldn't even finish telling him. "I'm really sorry for yelling at you earlier."

I couldn't even bring myself to tell him in a few months we'd be having a little bundle of joy.

Secret Service.Where stories live. Discover now