Prove It {P.G.}

Chapter 6

A/N: This chapter talks a lot about what Lilian went through with Alexander and her miscarriage, so please be aware that there are a lot of sensitive topics that could be triggering. Please skip this chapter if it may upset you in any way. Love you all <3

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"I always thought it would be a girl. My little girl," Lilian whispered. Her voice cracked, and a few tears slipped down her cheeks. Polly gently ran her fingers through Lilian's curls in an attempt to soothe her. It seemed to help, and her tears eventually dried.

"Do you think you would be able to talk about what happened? You don't have to if you're not ready." Lilian nodded. Hugging the bear to her chest, she sat up and started to move from the bed. "Where are you going, love?"

"I want to tell the boys too," she explained. "Will you come with me?" It was Polly's turn to nod. Standing from the bed, she took Lilian's hand, and they walked down the stairs together. They were met with four pairs of concerned eyes when they finally entered the parlor. Lilian got down on her knees and motioned for Finn to come to her. He did so quickly. "Hey, little man. I need you to go play outside, okay? Can you do that for me?"

"Yes, ma'am," he said happily, raising his hand in mock salute. Lilian let out a little laugh at this and watched fondly as he ran from the room. Once he was gone, Arthur turned to look at her.

"How ya feeling, Lil?"

"I'm fine, Art. Thank you. I need all of you to sit; I know all of you want an explanation, and this might take a while." The group sat around the table, waiting for her to continue. 

Lilian attempted to light a cigarette, but her hands were shaking far too much to even get a spark. Polly gently took the matchbox from her and struck it. The pair leaned towards each other, and Polly lit the cigarette between the young woman's lips. She nodded in thanks and leaned back in her chair. After letting out a shaky breath, she began.

"Well, to start, you should probably know who that sorry excuse for a man is. His name is Alexander, and he was my fiancé before I moved here. He's actually the reason I moved here all those years ago. To get away from him. He was abusive and a drunk and overall just a worthless piece of shit. I had never felt like less of a human being than when I was with him, and he knew it. He used that against me and made sure there was no way I could stand up for myself," Lilian said, her voice laced with venom, and her body trembling.

"What changed?" John asked cautiously. She looked at him with a questioning expression. "I just mean you left him, and you stood up to him when he came here." Lilian's chest rose and fell with her deep inhale and exhale.

"Um, when I got pregnant I guess I just stopped dealing with his bullshit. I didn't just have me to protect anymore; I had my baby too." Her hand subconsciously landed on her stomach, and she squeezed the bear in her other hand a little tighter. "One night I finally got up the courage to pack up my stuff and go, but he-" She stopped abruptly to clear her throat of the ever-growing lump. Polly took her hand and gave it an encouraging squeeze.

"Take your time, love," she assured. Lilian nodded and took a second longer before continuing.

"He caught me trying to leave. He was drunk and took out his anger the only way he knew how. By using me as his personal punching bag. I knew something was wrong the second he dragged himself away. I had this horrible pain in my stomach, and I uh, I was bleeding a lot." Her eyes glazed over, and her breathing grew heavy.

"Worthless whore," he grumbled as he climbed the stairs lazily. He swayed with every step he took and reeked of alcohol. Curled up on the floor, she held her stomach, whimpering as wave after wave of pain radiated through her body. Tears burned down her cheeks, and her throat was burning from her screams. She felt as though she had been trampled by a stampede of horses; her arms, legs, torso, and face were red, stinging, and bruised. She attempted to rise from her spot on the dusty, dirty, floor but to no avail. Groaning, hissing, and crying out with each movement, she managed to crawl to the front door, pushing it open, and collapsing onto the street. She kept pushing. Feeling as though she were being ripped limb from limb, she finally made it to the stoop of the neighbor's front door. The sensation of warmth trickling down her legs had become insignificant as she pounded her aching hand against the door. Her vision was beginning to blur and darken, the world becoming fuzzy and unrecognizable around her when the door finally swung open. She heard a gasp and muffled words as her body gave out, and she succumbed to the darkness.