Where You Belong

"By the way," he added, with a blank stare of his own, "Get rid of it. Or I'm done."

Those words seemed to echo throughout my mind for the last three days since Michael had left. He hadn't returned that night, or the night after that.

I'd cried myself to sleep both nights that he wasn't there. What was I to do with or without him? He'd said that he would leave if I kept the baby, and then what would I do? I wouldn't be able to make the rent or pay any major bills, let alone buy food or anything the baby would eventually need. Not only that, but I loved him. He was all I'd known for the past three years, and I couldn't see myself without him in my life.

But I also couldn't just "get rid of" my child, either. Even if I had conceived at an inconvenient time, no child was ever a mistake in my eyes, but rather a blessing. I couldn't abort something I'd had a hand in creating, something that continued to grow within my body, nor could I bring it into this world, just to give it away to an adoption agency.

No, I would never do that.

When I'd told Mike about my pregnancy, I'd figured he would be shocked, but would eventually come to his senses and be excited for our baby to arrive. We'd been in a relationship for three years now, and even though this pregnancy came as a surprise to us, I'd figured that the love we'd had for one another was strong enough to get us through what could possibly turn into a rough time. Mike and I both had well-paying jobs and lived in a fairly decent neighborhood. We weren't flat broke, either due to our education. Mike had already received both his Bachelor's and Master's degrees, while I'd just finished my own Bachelor's. So what was the problem?

Simple. Mike was the problem.

I'd never seen it coming. Ever since I'd met him four or so years ago, he'd always been friendly and helpful. He was caring about me and protective of me. He always gave me advice and a shoulder to cry on. He was one of the warmest people I knew; he never rejected anyone.

Yet the way he'd just rejected his own child, his own flesh and blood, was what hurt me the most about our situation.

And while I could understand his fear of being a parent, of being held accountable for the life of another being which would depend solely on us, I couldn't understand how he could turn his back on something he'd created; how he could turn his back on me.

As I lay on the examining table in the doctor's office without Mike, I knew I could never abort my child or send it off for another stranger to take in. I watched in wonder as the ultrasound technician slowly moved the wand around my stomach, everything in the room silent except for the sound of my child's heartbeat.

I'd never thought I would have a child at this age, yet as I watched the dark, blurry blob on the screen that was my child, I knew I wouldn't have it any other way. I had created this being, and I was going to nurture it and love it, regardless of what Mike's intentions were.

"I know it's still pretty early to make anything out, really," the technician spoke softly, removing the wand from my stomach before she proceeded to wipe the cool gel off of my skin, "But by your next appointment, you'll be able to see things a lot more clearly. But for now, the fetus is completely healthy and everything looks great. I'll send Dr. Stevens in to speak with you," she said with a smile before leaving the room. I pulled my shirt back down to cover my stomach and sat up to wait for the doctor.

I was still a little shocked. I wasn't really showing yet, so it was somewhat hard for me to believe that I was even pregnant to begin with. But seeing the fetus on that monitor sent this strange feeling running down my spine; I suddenly felt like I was connected to it, like I could feel its presence within me. The fluttering feeling in my stomach made me beam with happiness as I gently pressed my hand to it.

Nothing could take away my smile during the rest of the day.

The doctor had come in and prescribed me some prenatal vitamins, and I grinned madly as I snatched the small paper bag from her hands, even as she told me about the grueling side effects of pregnancy. My grin never faltered as the receptionist scheduled my next appointment, or as I noticed a new dent on the side of the BMW coupe I'd struggled so hard to pay for and keep maintained. I grinned like a happy fool the entire way home.

But when I got home, alas, my mood took a turn for the worst. Mike's car was parked outside the apartment, meaning he was finally home. I pulled into my own space beside his, and killed the engine.

It'd been three days and I'd heard nothing from him. He could've up and left for all I knew, because he'd simply shut me out. I took a deep breath and pulled my key out of the ignition before I grabbed the bag the doctor had given me, along with my bag. I slowly slid out of the car, placing a hand on my stomach as I walked up the stairs to our door.

From the outside, I could hear the TV on, and Mike's voice. With another deep breath, I took my keys and used then to open the door, knowing that the second he saw me, he'd ask what choice I had made. I stepped inside, sliding out of my shoes and placing my purse and keys on the end table next to the door. I was just walking into the living room when I froze at the sound of Mike's voice.

"So how 'bout it? Saturday, you and me at Dolce?"

My blood ran cold. Dolce was the name of a local night club, and by the looks of it, his plans included someone else who wasn't me. I felt my heart drop yet again as I continued to listen to his half of the conversation.

"Girlfriend? Nah, baby, where'd you hear that from?"

It seemed as if this conversation would only turn out worse for me from here.

"Who, Britt?" I heard him ask with a short laugh, "Nah, that’s over and done with. She's old news."

At this point, I'd heard enough. Had he no fucking respect for me anymore? Did it not matter to him that while I was home pregnant with his child, worrying about our future, he was out hooking up with other girls and getting their numbers? When did the man I'd fallen hopelessly in love with turn into the same kind of scum I'd yell at from the ridiculous reality TV shows?

I'd had enough of this bullshit. I'd allowed this man to break down every wall I'd put up for my own protection after he'd spent months promising me he'd never hurt me, and now look at where we were. I'd put up with his hateful behavior at the beginning of this out of pure shock and hurt. But with me, things got old, and they got old quick. Now all I felt, and maybe it was due to all the new raging hormones pregnancy had given me, was anger.

No, scratch that. Rage.

I saw pure red as I barged into the living room and threw the bag of pills down onto the ground, making sure to grab Mike's attention. Clearly he hadn't known I was home, because he quickly hung up with whoever was on the phone. When he saw the look on my face and the pills on the floor, his demeanor changed completely.

He knew he'd been caught, and he knew the pills on the floor were unmistakably covered in doctor's scrawl and intended for my pregnancy. Both of us glared at one another; there was no need for pleasantries at this point.

Mike rolled his eyes and made a snide comment, and that's when I'd lost it. Before I knew what was happening, I'd stalked across the room, hauled off and slapped the shit out of him like only a true mad black woman would.

"What the fuck Britt--"

"How fucking dare you!" I bellowed, moving to hit him again. He used his arms to cover his face and blocked my advance.

"What are you talking ab--"

"Shut the hell up! I'm talking!" I snarled, yanking his arms from his face and pushing my fist straight into his eye. He groaned loudly and slumped back into the couch, cradling his face. I swung at him again, this time catching his jaw.

A burning sensation began shooting through my hands, and I knew I'd done some damage. I stepped away from him and began pacing back and forth through the room.

Mike watched me, but didn't dare open his mouth. He knew I had a nasty temper that I tried hard to keep in check, and he also knew that when I was provoked, there was no going back for me.

"I tried to go about this the best way I could, but what else do you want me to do? You’re four years older than I am; if you think you're not ready for a child, do you honestly think I am?"

Again, he knew better than to open his mouth when I was in this state of mind.

"Three fucking years, Michael! Three! Day after day, you promised not to hurt me, and fought to prove in every way possible that you loved me. Hell, you even mentioned marriage at least twice!"

Michael sighed, "Britt--"

"I said I'm not fucking done!" I shrieked, whipping around to glare at him with such intensity that he could've melted right into the floor. "You said all you needed to say, and now I'm gonna say what I need to say."

Again, he fell silent.

"Were these past three years just a web of lies?" I finally asked, lowering my voice to a whisper. It was obvious those extra hormones were kicking in at the moment, because I rarely ever cried. Yet, here I was with tears running down my cheeks. "I didn't make this baby by myself, Mike, and whether you want this child or not, you could at least consider my feelings. I'm just as lost as you are on what to do, but to suggest abortion? Killing something that's now a part of me?"

"So you're keeping it." Mike stated more than asked. I raised my eyes to his and looked him dead in the eyes as I confirmed his suspicions.

"This baby is a part of me now. Whether or not you choose to be in its life, I will be." I answered firmly, holding my head high.

He shook his head, "Britt, I'm not ready for kids right now. I can't make that kind of commitment." he answered simply.

I felt my jaw clench as I attempted to rope my anger back in. I sat down in the arm chair across the room from him and fold my feet under me as I gingerly placed my hand on my stomach once again.

It was silent for a long time as we looked back and forth at each other. After quite some time of thinking about what I could possibly say, I finally spoke.

"Then you don't have to. But we can't continue to stay together, so I'll be sure to have everything out of here tomorrow morning."

"And go where?" he retorted, crossing his arms over his chest in defiance. I stared at him and then shrugged.

"Home," I answered simply, placing a hand on my stomach, "Where I have people that will love and help take care of us both, since you won't."

I'd made up my mind, and I wasn't changing it.