This chapter is dedicated to my follower linahanson whose comments have been most helpful and appreciated to give some of my writing that extra edge.  Thanks and I am looking forward to more.                                                         

11 - Forgiving  

"Tell me, Doc, how old is Mitch?" I ask, twirling the spoon with the ice cream around in my mouth.

He goes rigid. "Mitch?"

"Yes." I grin. "Isn't that the name of your son?"

He hesitates, his eyes on the empty pizza boxes in front of him like they could help him answering my question. I have to admit, I feasted. He allowed me to have nine slices, loaded with peperoni and ham, and some veggies. I hadn't enjoyed food that much in ages.

"I don't feel comfortable discussing my personal life with a client," he says.

I chuckle. He is such a hypocrite. How can he expect for me to pour out the depth of my soul when he is not willing to divulge the most basic information he would probably share with a stranger on a bus?

"Technically, I am not even your client," I point out. "You were assigned by the court." When he still doesn't respond, I push ahead. "Come on, Doc, just this one question."

He sighs. "Mitch is four."

"See–it wasn't that hard." My hand instinctively strokes over my belly.

His gaze follows my action. "How far along are you?"

Oh–he must have taken a quick peak at my medical file. "Five months."

"Did they tell you if it's a boy or a girl?

I nod. "I had a few ultrasounds. It's a little boy."

"Any idea on a name yet?"

Now this is pretty personal and has no bearing on my case, but I want to be nice since he told me about Mitch. "I don't think I want to name the baby. I have decided to give him up for adoption. It'll be better if his new parents will choose how they want to call their son."

I scoop another portion of ice cream in my mouth, letting it melt on my tongue. It is so delicious. Enjoying sweets like this is something I have missed since being locked up. I have always had a sweet tooth.

"Doesn't your father want to raise his grandson?"

Ouch, that's below the belt. I am trying to stay calm, not wanting to recall the fight I had with my dad about the pregnancy. "Yes, but I decided against it. The jail supervisor told me that they'll take the baby away as soon as he is born–it's prison policy. I don't even know when I'll get out and I don't want to burden my dad to raise another baby by himself."

"That must've been a tough decision."

I feel a lump building in my throat. He has no idea. I keep my cool, treating myself to another spoonful. He hasn't touched his at all.

"Don't you want your ice cream?"

He pads his stomach. "I could benefit from losing some weight. Too much work and too little exercise."

My smile is thin. He looks a little on the heavy side and his wife may leave him one day if he is never home and blows up like a balloon. He could lose Mitch. It's not a risk I would take.

"So did they offer you a deal?" he asks next.

"Uhum, twenty-five years." My eyes graze his ice cream container. Maybe I should ask if I could have it before it goes to waste. "I would be able for parole after twelve, but on a murder conviction, they usually deny the first few petitions. I would likely be out in twenty."

"That's a long time."

A very long time. That's why I didn't take it.

"Can I ask you another question, Doc?"

"If it's not something personal," he grunts.

"No, it's professional." I sigh, not sure if I really want to go there. Finally, I decide to push ahead. "Did you ever have a client who had a kid fathered by someone they hated?"

He regards me calmly. "Yes. There were instances of rape that resulted in an unwanted pregnancy."

"And those women–did they love their child or cringed every time they looked at him?"

He puckers his lips the way he does when he isn't sure whether he should answer. "Usually, nature kicks in and there is a natural mother instinct that is stronger than the memory."

"So you never had anyone who hated their kid because of that?"

He takes his time, likely going through his cases in his mind. "I had some fathers who resented their children because they blamed them after the mothers died during childbirth. Once, a woman smothered her son in her sleep, but she was under the influence of drugs and alcohol to cope with her past trauma." He considers me with narrow eyes. "But no–usually, unwanted pregnancies in those instances are terminated if women don't want to have the child."

I am still not pleased with his answer. Maybe I am looking for something that just isn't there. "Do you think I would hate my son because he might look like Brent?"

There is a slight twitch around his lips. "You know I can't answer that. Are you trying to use me to justify your decision to give your baby up for adoption?"

I lower my eyes, hating that he already knows me well enough to see right through me. I was indeed trying for him to confirm that it would probably be best for my son if he is being raised without me in his life. I might never be able to love him the way he deserves.

Silence falls over the room as I continue to poke in my ice cream. He sighs a few times, but otherwise doesn't attempt to rush me. I take my time, scraping out the last bits from the container until the paper peels on the bottom. Determined to prolong my break, I reach for the other pack, but he pulls it away.

"Na." He grins like a genius. "No more until you agree to truthfully answer my next questions without giving me more hassle."

I roll my eyes. "Come on, Doc. What would be the fun in that? Don't you like the challenge?"

He just shakes his head with a chuckle and slides the ice cream into my direction. "OK, let's continue. After Brent beat you in the kitchen, how did you feel?"

I glare at him through narrow eyes. Why does he always want to know about my feelings? "Upset, I guess."

His smile is rather cocky. "Would you care to elaborate?"

Of course I wouldn't, but what choice do I truly have? I toss him a fake smile before taking an especially big spoonful of the ice cream to stall.

His fingers begin to drum on the table. "I can take that away from you if it distracts you." His chin points at the container, probably to ensure I get the point.

My response is an inaudible grumble, but when his hand moves closer to my precious desert, a long sigh runs over my lips.

"Okay," I growl, trying to keep the pain and despair out of my voice. My eyes close when a hitch builds in my throat. "I was devastated. My whole world came apart at the seams and I had no control over it. I was hurt, not only physically but also emotionally. I just didn't understand how the man I loved and who claimed to do the same could ever do that to me, but most of all, I was confused."

"What were you confused about?" he asks.

"A lot of things. If I made the right decision to have moved in with him, if I still wanted to be with him. I also started to question what made him the way he was. I wanted an explanation how someone who was so nice in one minute could make a complete U-turn the next and turn into a monster?"

"Did you ask him about it?"

"Yes." I remember Brent's pain stricken face when he broke down and cried. "He admitted that his father used to beat him and his mom. I mean, all the time. He said there was hardly a day he didn't sleep on his stomach because of his father's spankings when he was little. He was usually hit with a belt and his mother got it worse."

"Did you feel sorry for him?"

Tears shoot in my eyes. "I think if he hadn't told me that, I would have had the strength to leave him. He begged me to stay. He promised he would get help, go to therapy, anything. He insisted he needed me to get through this, he couldn't do it alone. He said I was the only reason why he still got up in the morning and that he would kill himself if I ever left."

He gave me a moment to compose myself before firing off his next question. "Did he blame you or claimed that it was your fault that he abused you?"

"No." A small sob shakes my body. "That didn't come until later."

"And did he keep any of his promises?"

"Of course not." I laugh with bitterness through my tears, wiping my eyes and nose on the sleeve of my overalls. "You know how this works. We were in the honeymoon stage again and he would've promised me the world in order to regain control. He was charming, considerate, spoiled me in any way possible. The presents became more elaborate. I think he bought me a new pearl necklace."

"And did it work?"

"Sure. I believed every word he said like a total idiot. I was certain he would stop, that our love would prevail in the end. With my help, he would learn how to control his anger." I laugh again to keep fresh tears from rolling down my cheeks. How come that I didn't see the truth back then? "Okay, I mean, I had no one to confide in, not one person to give me advice. Talking to my friends would have been embarrassing and my dad was out of the picture. I was all alone. Brent was the only one I had."

"Why were you embarrassed to talk to your friends?"

"Seriously, Doc?" I shake my head at his dumb question. "What would I have told Caroline? 'Hey, the guy you warned me about all along beat me up, but guess what, I'm still gonna stick it out.' She would have had me committed to a looney bin." I wipe more tears from my eyes. "I mean, you read about domestic abuse in the media and think how stupid those women are for not leaving their partners, but until it happens to you, you don't really understand where they're coming from. Truthfully, I was just as scared about my friends' reaction as I was of another beating."

He starts to scribble in his little book. "So what happened next?"

I lean back and suck in a deep breath. "Well, as usual for this type of relationship, the cycle of violence shortened. I was still hanging in there because losing Brent was the last thing I wanted."

OK - plot twist. Rena is pregnant. Were you surprised? How do you feel about it? Do you think that giving the baby up for adoption is the right decision? And how about her question - do you think she could love the baby unconditionally after what his father did to her?

Your insights would be much welcomed. Thanks for reading and don't forget the star button in the corner if you think this chapter deserved it.