𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐝 𝐎𝐟 𝐌𝐞, 𝐌𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐲?

𝟏

Lisa's POV : "Billie, p-please stop." I whimper as Billie forces her whole eight inches inside of me. I was ignored as she continued pounding into me, going harder, and harder with each thrust like she was rushing to get to a finish line in a race I wasn't aware I was competing in. How did we end up like this? 'I promise to love you forever, and ever, and treat you like the queen you are' is what she said in our wedding vows. I'm sick, and tired of being treated like a whore every other night. Sore between my legs constantly, nauseated & sick to my stomach daily.

I'm pregnant. God help me if Billie ever finds out. She doesn't know that I'm pregnant and I'm scared to death to tell her. My best way to avoid the physical pain she inflicts on me is to keep my mouth shut and my legs spread. I'd ask myself again how we ended up like this as if I hadn't known. She drinks. A lot. It had its effects on her. It started with yelling at me for the littlest things like not doing the dishes or not cooking dinner for her. It escalated quickly to beating me until I was either bleeding or unconscious. I want to go back to the way things were. Where she didn't cheat on me almost constantly. Where she didn't degrade me or the way I look every chance she got. Where she actually loved me.

"Shit I'm gonna cum- fuck, fuck, fuck," She panted, pulling out as she let out a satisfied groan. I could feel her finish on my lower back. I know of the very moment she'd impregnated me. Too drunk to remember to pull out. Too poor to afford a single condom."Oh, Jesus- SERIOUSLY LISA?" Billie quickly pushed me down onto the bed. "What-" "YOU WANNA TELL ME NEXT TIME WHEN YOU START YOUR FUCKING PERIOD? CHRIST." She spat viciously with disgust laced in her voice. Often her words stung more than her punches."No- it's not that, Billie. I-" Before I could continue, I felt the very familiar hot, stinging sensation left on the side of my face, accompanied by her metal rings. She slapped me across my face. The sudden ringing in my ears made it hard to make out exactly what she was saying to me. Something along the lines of "I swear to god Lisa if you start fucking crying i'm gonna give you something to cry about." She warned. Tears began to well up in my eyes beyond my control.

I try as hard as possible to hold back my tears but it's just no use. "What did I just fucking say!" Billie shouts at me as she notices the tears on my cheeks. I can't do this anymore. I dared to speak without permission. The words leaving my mouth like the vomit of morning sickness, I simply blurted, "Billie I'm pregnant!"

The room goes dead silent, scaring me half to death. So silent, you could hear my heart beating outside of my naked chest. "You're what." Her tone of voice said all I needed to know. I restated myself in a rare moment of bravery. "I said I'm pregnant."

Not sure of what to expect, I brace myself for the beating of a lifetime. Harsh curse words thrown around, a fist to my stomach most likely. I could expect all of the above. I waited for it like a child waiting for their punishment after misbehaving. My punishment was almost inevitable.

I waited, and waited for punches and kicks that never came.
Demeaning and hurtful words that never left her mouth.
The room so silent I could hear.. Crying?

I wiped the tears from my eyes, clearing up my distorted vision, only to find that I wasn't the only one with pulled heart strings and emotion streams.

Our eyes met. For a tiny, sweet moment.. I could see a glint of emotion behind those intoxicated ocean eyes.

"You been sleeping around or what-"
"It's yours, Billie." I quickly shut down her thoughts of the possibility that I 'hoe around' like she claims I do.

The room fell silent again. In one quick, swift motion, she pulled me up off the bed to stand face to face in front of her. Her forehead touching mine, she looks down slightly, observing my two month small baby bump.

Her hand reaches to touch it. For once.. For the first time in a long time.. She's holding me without hurting me."Fuck bro." She mumbled under her breath. Please don't hit me. Please.

"How long?" She asks, referring to how long I've been pregnant. "A little over two months." I answer. I was so worried about her finding out, I even stole the pregnancy tests so she wouldn't get suspicious about money randomly going missing.

She was silent for a while. Her hand still resting on my baby bump, her thumb began to move back and forth as though she were gently comforting our unborn baby. I didn't know how to feel. At any given moment, she could hit me. She could change how she felt about my pregnancy. She could leave."The fuck am I doing?" She whispers to herself, tears escaping her bloodshot eyes. Doing the completely unexpected, she wraps her arms around my body, giving me the first hug I've had from her in years. I stood perfectly still, like a prey attempting to seem invisible to its predator. Waiting for her to hit me made me feel like a deer in the headlights watching the car approach and doing nothing to stop it. A sudden move and she might remember to hate me again. "I promise, Lisa. I'll try to be better for you, and the baby." She whispers while lightly stroking my hair.

That was an empty promise made about seven months ago seeing as I'm due today, and Billie isn't even here. She's "out" right now. Out meaning having sex with someone who isn't me. I don't blame her for that. I haven't exactly liked looking in the mirror as of lately. "I'm home!" I hear Billie shout from the front door. We live in a two bedroom apartment on the first floor. We don't have a lot of money- actually none at all at the moment but we do try. "I'm in the room!" I shout back.

Hearing her footsteps coming from down the hallway, she walks into the room with a hickey covered neck and hair as messy as her dating life. Okay.. Maybe I do mind a little. I just wish she would change. I've tried praying for it. God must be busy helping some kid win a basketball game or something. "Come here real quick." She says while standing in the door frame. I do as told and walk up to her. "You know I love you right?" She lightly tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. The last time she said that was I think maybe four years ago. While I didn't believe her, I simply nodded my head in silence. "Why aren't the dishes done, hm?" She asks, her eyes turning a slightly darker shade of blue as her hand makes it's way around my throat. "I-I couldn't do it because my stomach was hurting-" "My stomach hurts every time I see you but you don't see me complaining do you?" She said, insinuating that my physical appearance made her sick. Ouch.

"No but I-" "Go do the god damn dishes before I hurt you just like I did yesterday." She threatens me, referring to how she beat me senseless last night for accidentally dropping the last of our milk. I quickly nodded my head, not wanting it to happen again. She loosens her tight grip on my neck, walking over to the bedside table and pulling out a few pills that read 'xanax'. Hopefully it calms her down. As I made my way into the kitchen, I suddenly felt the sensation of a warm liquid dripping down my inner thigh and down to my leg. Oh shit.