This chapter is dedicated to pinkstruck. Thanks for reading, voting and commenting - you have been a great supporter XD.
37 - Beat Of The Heart
The day Brent died started out with my new usual morning routine. Since Brent's torture and the disaster with Kade, I had not been back to school and couldn't get myself motivated to do anything that wasn't absolutely necessary or part of his expected regimen. I was sad most of the time, spending the majority of my day in bed or under the shower.
I got up at six to make us breakfast and slipped into my bathrobe. We were going through a honeymoon phase and Brent had been exceptionally nice but that hadn't eased my tension. I was just waiting for another outburst and there was no doubt on my mind that it would happen sooner rather than later. I walked on eggshells, a total nervous wreck.
I tried to avoid any confrontation and behaved as was expected of me. The house was impeccable, the clothes washed, starched and ironed. He had started to ask for a warm breakfast and that morning, I had decided to make scrambled eggs and French toast. There was not even a spec of grease on the stove and the pots, pans and everything else in the kitchen was sparkling.
I set the table just the way he liked it, the plates dead center on colorful mats with extra polished silverware an inch away. The glasses were on coasters at the right angle and the butter and jams in its proper place on the breakfast tray.
I poured the orange juice as soon as he walked in and planted a kiss on my cheek.
"Good morning, honey. That smells good."
He grinned widely, in the best of moods. He must not have noticed I was up half the night, rigid in his arms, pondering what to do next. Now even sleep was an agonizing affair during the night, I was afraid I would toss and turn or cry from a nightmare, disturbing his slumber which could result in a reprimand.
He sat down and I portioned the eggs on the plates before adding the French toast.
He watched me with glowing eyes. "You really seem to love your housework. You are putting your heart and soul into it and have been doing an excellent job."
My lips automatically tilted upwards just like they always did when he complimented me. In reality, there was nothing enjoyable about my chores.
I sprinkled some chives on top of the eggs. "Thanks. I'm very happy you noticed."
When I placed the plate in front of him, he pulled me on his lap. "I really want to reward you for being so good and not upsetting me these last few days. It is time to put this whole Kade affair behind us. How about going away for the weekend and I really spoil you?"
I snuggled against him mechanically. "That would be wonderful. I could use a break."
"Any particular place you would like to go?"
It really didn't matter to me. "Maybe New York. I've always wanted to go to a Broadway show."
His face lit up. "Yes, that's a great idea. I will check on some tickets later."
He devoured his eggs, shooting more praises my way. I only picked at my food, not really hungry.
"Are you OK?" he asked concerned. "You are a little pale and not eating."
"Oh, I feel a little queasy." That wasn't even a lie. "Maybe something I ate last night. I'm sure I will feel better in no time."
He stroked the back of my hand and I had to force myself not to pull away. "I hope so. I don't like seeing you like this."
I lowered my eyes, quickly shoving a large piece of French toast into my mouth to avoid him noticing my sudden tears. He had no idea about the stress I was under.
He was chitchatting away about college and the day ahead of him, taking small bites in between and was really enjoying himself. He was just finishing the last bit of his juice when he dropped the next bombshell.
"So, in just over six months, you will be eighteen. I think it's time that we start planning the wedding. This is your day and I want you to have anything you want. Have you thought about whether you would like it in a church and how many people you might be inviting?"
There would be no one I could even invite. My dad and I were not on speaking terms, I had zero friends and except for the mailman I would occasionally run into, I had no interactions with anyone.
"I don't want a big affair. A small ceremony in front of the justice of the peace is fine. I don't even need a special dress."
"Are you sure?" He appeared surprised. "After all, you only get married once."
I swallowed hard, not even wanting to think about the vows. "Yes, I'm sure."
Before I met Brent, I always dreamed about a big wedding in the same church my parents had gotten married in which was located in a small suburb of Chicago where my mom grew up. I wanted this elaborate chiffon dress with a long train in a ball gown style with a dipped neckline and a double tier veil. We were to write our own vows, those from the heart in which we promised to love and respect each other. Not hurting one another went with the territory–that wasn't something I thought I would even have to consider. I had wanted a fairy tale wedding for me and my prince charming.
Brent tore me from my daydreams. "Okay, but let's at least go on a nice honeymoon. We could still marry before Christmas and would have the whole school break to go away. How about somewhere warm? Bahamas or Hawaii perhaps?"
I knew he was really trying hard to make me happy, but I was preoccupied. I gave him that smile that seemed now frozen on my lips every time he was around.
"Yes, that sounds really good," I said with as much conviction as I could muster.
He pushed his chair back and kissed my forehead. "I'll plan something nice. Thanks for breakfast and have a fun day."
I had other plans but he didn't need to know that. "I'll see you tonight. Dinner will be ready at six."
He nodded and was off. I started clearing the table, a few hot tears mixing with the dishwater. I took my time, rinsing and polishing carefully, placing the plates and glasses back into the cabinet in their proper places. Everything was lined up perfectly, the handles of the cups all turned into the same direction. The jams and dry goods were assorted by flavor and type.
The orange juice went right in its spot on the left side of the door in the fridge. Once, I had accidentally stuck it into the middle. Brent caught me and wacked me with the belt he was just looping as a quick reminder to be more mindful. It worked. I never forgot again.
I took a shower and got dressed, cleaning and drying off the bathroom as I went along. I was like a robot, every stroke of work now automatic, just as the constant smile with blank eyes. I didn't even feel human anymore.
I grabbed the shopping basket on the way out and was going to tell Brent I forgot something at the store in case he would come home early. He would ask too many questions if I left without it and that was something to avoid at all costs. I didn't want him to know where I was going.
I took the bus downtown and an hour later, had reached my destination–the practice of my OB/GYN Dr. Hayman. I had scheduled an appointment yesterday afternoon and didn't have to wait long.
"Is everything alright?" Dr. Hayman asked with a frown. "You don't look well."
I took a deep breath. "I think I might be pregnant."
She gazed at me evenly, not even surprised. "How long has it been since your last period?"
"Seven weeks and five days." I had finally broken down and checked the calendar and noticed I was way past due.
"Did you have unprotected sex? I thought you were taking birth control pills."
I avoided her questioning eyes. "My boyfriend found the pills and was upset. He didn't want me to take them."
"I see." Dr. Hayman studied me intently. "Did you already take a home pregnancy test?"
I shook my head. "I didn't have any money."
She sighed. "Okay, then let's get you set up and then we can talk."
The nurse practitioner led me to another room and I had to pee in a cup before she drew blood from my arm. My blood pressure was taken, I was measured and weighed, and my whole medical history recorded. There were some very personal and embarrassing questions–I had to disclose when I had started to be sexually active, whether I had changing sexual partners and whether I had ever taken an AIDS test. She also asked me if I had been pregnant before, but I lied and didn't tell her about the miscarriage.
Then I saw Dr. Hayman again. She confirmed what I had suspected for days now.
"Yes, Rena, you are pregnant. I'm not sure, though, whether to congratulate you or not."
I gave her a sheepish grin. "I would've preferred to become a mother later in life, but I guess it is what it is."
"Well." She was very serious. "You're only seventeen and should consider all your options. There is, of course, the possibility of an abortion and there are many couples out there seeking to adopt."
"I know." I had thought about nothing else for the past four days. "But I really want to keep the baby. I couldn't imagine my child growing up with strangers and don't want to take a human life."
In hindsight, those last words were a joke. Just twelve hours later, I would kill Brent.
"OK. Let's examine you and I will make an ultrasound. Then you can have a look at your baby."
I was really excited. I didn't think ultrasounds were even possible that early on in a pregnancy and I wanted to take a glimpse at the little being, growing inside me.
Ten minutes later, I had undergone the drag of a pelvic examination and Dr. Hayman squirted the same type of gel on my belly as Kade when I was taken to the emergency room. I stared at the monitor with a racing heartbeat, but nothing could have prepared me for the amazing sight when I saw my baby for the first time.
Dr. Hayman pointed at the different parts of the wiggly thing and explained what everything was. It was all there–the head, the torso and the arms and legs. Sure, it didn't resemble a human being too much, but with a little bit of imagination, I could make out how the finished product would look like.
"It's moving," I said with astonishment. "But I can't feel anything."
She laughed. "You won't notice anything until you are about eighteen weeks, but that doesn't mean your baby isn't already partying in your stomach." She turned up the volume and a pounding sound came over the loudspeaker. "That's your baby's heartbeat."
I had tears in my eyes–I had never seen anything more beautiful. "When does the heart begin to beat?"
"The heart starts pumping at 23 days."
That was three weeks which meant that the baby I had lost also had had a heartbeat, maybe even already stretching its little limbs. I got sick to my stomach at the thought that Brent had murdered my little son or daughter. At that moment, there was so much pain and desperation that I was almost unable to breathe.
"Can you tell if it's a boy or a girl?" My voice was reduced to a whisper.
"No." Dr. Hayman printed out a picture. "We will be able to tell at about twenty weeks. Any preference?"
"No." I had to fight the tears. "As long as it's healthy."
'And survives' I added in my mind.
Dr. Hayman handed me the printed image of my baby. "Here, this is for you to take home. The receptionist will schedule a follow up appointment in four weeks." She also gave me a pack of pills. "Here are some prenatal vitamins you should take daily. I'm not sure when you want to tell your boyfriend and be able to afford these."
I was grateful. "Thanks, Dr. Hayman."
I was just about to leave when she called me back. "Rena, I saw the bruises. Is your boyfriend abusing you?"
I didn't want to tell her the truth, not trusting her enough, but also feeling embarrassed. "No. I bruise really easily. Every time I as much as bump myself on anything, a huge blotch is the result. I read on the internet that it could be caused by a low blood platelet count."
Victims of domestic violence get very creative when it comes to explaining their injuries. I figured the low blood platelet beat the constant 'falling down the steps' excuse which no one ever seemed to believe anyhow.
"It could be." She appeared skeptical. "Look, Rena, if you ever need to talk, I'm here for you."
That's what Kade had said and look where that got him. The poor woman better faired to stay as far away from me as possible and not play the Good Samaritan or sooner or later, Brent would come after her. She was no match for his manipulative scheming, no one was. No–with this, I was on my own, but I knew that I couldn't stay with him if I wanted my baby to live.
OK - you made it through the first installment of the day of the murder. I hope you were not disappointed. And more ideas what could have made her snap (hint - many clues were included in this chapter)?
Part II coming up next. Thanks for reading and please comment and vote if this chapter deserved it - I'd love to hear from you XD