Chapter 3
THREE
Sophia
7 months later
I’d never given much thought about how, when or even if I’d become a mother, but having a baby at eighteen was definitely not in any way part of my plan.
I love my little girl, I really, really do, and I wouldn’t trade her for the world, but the life that’s been built around us… it’s not easy.
I’ve never felt so isolated. Technically, I can go wherever I want, whenever I want, but I also can’t.
Not only do I have to work around sleep schedules and feedings, but I feel disconnected from my old life and the people I used to be close to. I wouldn’t know where to go.
I haven’t spoken to my mum in over a week, and the idea of picking up the phone to call her makes me sweat. I know she loves me, and she’d do anything for me, but our relationship is strained at best.
All my relationships are strained these days.
My friends are supportive, but they don’t really understand. They’re also not here. They’re partying and studying and moving on with their lives.
Most days it’s just me with my choices for company. That, and my little girl.
The baby part is the easy bit. Ever since I felt her kick inside me, I knew I was made to be a mother. My patience is seemingly endless, and I understand her in a way that I doubt anyone else ever could.
Some days are hard, but she’s my whole world.
I’d do anything to protect her… even stay with a man who might possibly be the biggest threat of all to us.
I so clearly remember the date of when he put his hands on me. It was months and months ago, close to a year, actually, but I still flinch against the memory like it was yesterday.
I was four months pregnant at the time, and he was drunk and stupid .
It hasn’t happened again.
I want to add the word ‘yet’ to the end of that thought, but I never let myself. I can barely live with myself as it is when I think about that night, but the thought of being here, knowing that I chose to stay if I think there’s even the most remote chance it could happen again, would make me intolerable in my own mind.
Who could stay, with their baby, knowing they were in danger?
I don’t know how to answer that either.
I’d be the first to admit that I judged those women, the ones who let a man control them, the ones who stayed in shitty situations, or worse yet, let their children stay in those situations with them. I thought of them as weak. I couldn’t understand why they didn’t just leave. Why they couldn’t see that they deserved better.
And now here I am, with a man that I somehow love deeply, but don’t trust even slightly.
Part of me thinks I shouldn’t complain – that I don’t actually have anything to complain about. Eighty-five percent of the time, Josh is a great boyfriend and father. He’s not the worst guy out there, and while he’s probably not the man I should have chosen to be my daughter’s dad, he’s the one she’s got. He’s the one I’ve got. It happened and now we all just have to make the best of it.
And that’s what we do, day in and day out, still living in our small hometown while the people closest to us have gone off to live their best lives. I don’t resent them for it – not at all – but I do miss them.
I miss my friends so much it hurts. I don’t think Josh pines for companionship the same way I do. Some days I’d give anything to talk to another adult.
Unlike some of the other guys in his rugby team, Josh wasn’t offered any scholarships for university, or contracts to play professionally. He still plays, but it’s just for the local club. His grades sort of sucked in school, so he didn’t even bother applying to university. He walked away after graduation and went straight into a job in sales at his uncle’s auto supply shop.
It’s not great money, but money is money when you have a new baby at home.
He provides for us the best that he can, and I’m grateful for it.
I just wish that night hadn’t happened. Everything would be different if it didn’t exist.
I can’t lie to myself and say that I was on cloud nine before that, because I wasn’t. I was a pregnant teenager with no idea what the future held.
I was stressed, overwhelmed, and scared.
Josh was growing more impatient with me by the day, but he was trying his best, I could see that.
I never saw that night coming. I can barely even remember it. It’s like my brain has blocked it out almost completely. But I do remember the chilling feeling when I realised I was in danger. I remember the initial fear as his hand struck me. I remember the shame that followed. The emotions. The hurt. The guilt.
From both of us.
Josh was beside himself.
It took weeks for me to be able to look him in the eyes, but when I finally did, I saw genuine remorse there. So, I forgave him.
I promised myself that if he ever did something like that to me again, if he laid another finger on me, that I’d leave without hesitation. I promised myself that this would be his one and only chance.
He swore to me that it wouldn’t ever happen again, and he’s held true to his word. We’ve argued… yelled and screamed, he’s thrown things, but he’s never touched me like that again.
I’m not na?ve enough to believe that it would never happen again, the fear lives there in the back of my mind, rent free. It’s always there, lingering, making me wonder if I did the right thing.
Part of me thinks I should have run. Part of me thinks I still should.
But that’s the problem in a town like this. There’s nowhere to run to. I have nowhere to hide.
I had no income, no savings, no house, no car.
I could go to my parents, but I’m too scared of the disappointment in their eyes. I barely survived telling them I was going to be having a baby .
My dad looked like he might have a stroke. My mum cried.
They eventually got over the initial shock, but I don’t think they’d get over domestic violence the same way.
So, I stayed, and I’m still here.
It’s just the three of us.