21: Second Trimester

18 WEEKS ALONG

"Sweetheart, I want to meet him."

Marisol smiled toward her mother then laid her head against the window. She was unsure about Grey's family meeting hers. She wasn't embarrassed by her mother, but she was embarrassed about her life. She was embarrassed about the abuse. Embarrassed by her scars. Embarrassed about her father. "You will, eventually."

"So how did you fall, Mrs. Evergreen? It must have been a nasty accident."

Samantha looked at Abigail with a sad smile. "Oh, I was painting something and I fell off the ladder."

"That sounds painful. Was your husband home?"

Samantha bristled. "No, he was at work."

"But he didn't come to the hospital?" Nolan asked skeptically. If Abigail was ever injured, he'd come right away to her aid.

"Uh, no. He's too busy," she said quietly. Marisol turned to face her mother, but she shrugged. She didn't fall. It was never an accident. Soon enough, they arrived at her family home. She got out and went to her mother's door.

"Do you want us to come in with you?"

"No, it's okay."

Marisol helped her mother up the steps and into their home. She sighed deeply as they entered, smelling the putrid scent of alcohol. Something cracked under her feet and she could tell it was glass. They must have gotten into one hell of a fight.

"Maybe you can come and stay with me for a little, mom? He doesn't know where I live. You'd be safe."

"I live him, Marisol, and he loves me. I know he does."

"If he did he would never hurt you like this. If he loved me he would have never..." She stopped, choking back her tears. "He would have never hurt me like he did."

"Go home, Marisol. I'll be fine."

"I think I should stay–"

"No," she said quickly. "You have a life, a boyfriend, a career...I'll be fine sweetheart. Go. Go. He'll be home soon."

Marisol, hesitantly, hugged her mother goodbye before turning around and leaving. She went back into the car and stayed silent until her stomach turned. They were on some fast road but she could tell it wasn't super busy. She sat up, putting her hand to her mouth.

"Stop the car."

"What?" Nolan asked.

"Stop the car!"

Nolan pulled over quickly and she opened her door. Taking off her seatbelt, she held her hair back as she threw up on the side of the road. Abigail came to her rescue, rubbing her back and taking her dark hair from her hands.

Marisol gagged again before throwing up more. It was odd for her to throw up so much and Nolan and Abigail knew that. After a few minutes, she wiped her mouth and stood up. Nolan handed her a napkin and she thanked him. "Sorry, I just...I-I don't know."

"Are you okay, Luna?"

She smiled at her title, nodding. "Yes. Can we stop and get some water please?"

❥

When they arrived home, Greyson was pacing by the door. He came to her, pulling her into his arms. "Are you okay? What happened?"

"Marisol, sweetie, is your mother alright?"

She smiled at Irabella's voice. "She's okay. She f-fell." She pulled away then and rubbed the back of her neck. "I'm tired. I'm going to go take a bath."

Greyson watched skeptically as she left. He turned to Nolan who shrugged. "I think something else is going on. It's stressing her out so much she got sick."

"Well her mother just got hurt," Abigail said. "It's normal for her to be stressed."

Grey decided to give her some time alone before going up twenty minutes later. He could smell the fresh scent of rose coming from the bathroom. He knocked gently on the door and walked in after hearing her hum.

"Greyson?"

"It's me." He cleared his throat, sitting on the side of the bathtub. He grabbed the luffa from her hands and then her leg, setting it on his lap. He gently rubbed it over her leg. "You know I practically memorized every part of your body that I have seen? You have a birthmark on your thigh and vitiligo underneath your right breast. I also know that you have scars on your back and I wonder what they are from. You said they are from an accident. Your mother had an accident today."

"Grey," her voice cracked.

"You don't have to tell me now or even ever. But I will be waiting for when you are ready." As he stood up to give her time alone, she grabbed his arm. Quietly, she turned around in the tub, and with a soapy hand reached for her back.

"M-my dad... he isn't like yours. My mom got pregnant when she was young. When I was young they were happy. He was kind and...sweet." She closed her eyes, swallowing thickly. "And my mom? She was almost like yours. They would have really liked each other I think."

Grey knelt down next to the tub and gently washed her back as she spoke.

"My mom got pregnant when I was 10. It was a boy. After he was born he died from sudden infant death syndrome. My parents were devastated, rightly so. Shortly after my dad started drinking. He'd only hit my mom for a while until I hit puberty. I guess I reminded him too much of their baby because he started hitting me or throwing plates at me. Sometimes mugs. Bottles. Those are what those scars are from. He wouldn't take me to the hospital for those. He wouldn't let my mom take me either."

She brought her knees to her chest, stopping for a moment. She was crying now. "But what I went through was nothing compared to what my mother goes through. He'd tie her to the bed at night and...cut her...choke her... whatever he could to punish her for giving birth to a defective baby. When I was fifteen, I had enough and I went to the police. They didn't believe me. My father was on the city council. As punishment," she stopped. "As punishment, he hit me in the back of the head with a bottle. I was in the hospital for weeks. That's how I went blind. And once I couldn't see, he could torment me in more ways than he could ever imagine. He used to take me out of my bed and leave me outside so I'd wake up scared and unknowing of where I was. That's how I found Tala."

"Your father? He made you blind?"

She nodded as he rubbed conditioner into her hair.

"Lay back," he whispered. He gently washed out the soap from her hair and helped her back up. "And your mother stays with him?"

"She loves him and feels that he loves her too."

"She didn't fall did she?"

"No. He broke it. I try to take her away but she always returns."

He gently cleaned the rest of her body before sitting on the edge of the tub. He grabbed her hand, kissing it. "What aren't you telling me?"

She looked up and then laid her on his lap. "Will you let me stay when I have the babies?

"Of course, Marisol. They're you're children."

"I'm scared," she whispered.

"He won't ever hurt you. Not again," he vowed.

"What if the same thing that happened to my mom happens to me?"

He grabbed her chin and kissed her. "I will never lay a hand on you like that. What your father does, he does out of insecurity. He is not a real man. I am. I value my woman. I worship my woman. I am not like him. I could be anything in the world, but all I want to be is yours."

She nodded and closed her eyes to his hand stroking her hair.