Full Figured 3: Carl Weber Presents

by Hampton, Brenda

  I was still trying to snatch away from him to no avail. So I stood very still and gazed at him.

  “I did with him whatever you did with whomever you were with in New York!”

  He pushed me back into the sofa so hard my back hit the base of it and it caused nerve wracking pain in my lower back. I didn’t even have time to recover from the flashing lights behind my eye lids because he grabbed me again and started dragging me towards my room. I kicked, screamed, swung wildly. I was scared. One of my kicks connected with his thigh and I got up and tried to run for my front door. Before I even made it he grabbed me from behind by my hair and then picked me up by my waist. Once we made it to my room, he slammed my door, locked it, and slammed me against the wall.

  “Aric please stop! It meant nothing,” I cried. “He meant nothing.”

  My body was hurting and my ankle was burning. My breaths were coming out in spurts and I had become nauseous.

  “You thought I was playing when I told you I would fuck you up . . .”

  “I’m sorry, Aric! Damn! I don’t even know what you were doing in New York and you want to be mad at me for being with somebody else,” I screamed at him cutting him off.

  I tried to duck when he went to snatch me up by my hair again. Images of my childhood flashed before my eyes and before I knew it my fist had balled and I was fighting back. Images of my father dragging my mother through the halls of our house by her hair haunted me. I could see my mother kicking and screaming, fighting for her life. My hand connected with his face and I guess that pissed him off even more because that’s when he backhanded me. My head snapped back as I went flying across my bed. My jaw felt like it would come unhinged and I was so dizzy that the room was spinning. I saw him coming toward me and I moved so fast getting off the bed and trying to get away from him that I fell onto the floor on the side of my bed. It felt like I fractured my hip I fell so hard, but I crawled to my bathroom and quickly locked the door.

  “Open the door, Chyanne!”

  I slid down to the floor and rocked back and forth. My whole body was hurting. My head was pounding and so was my heart. I could not believe this mess. My breathing was labored and I felt as if I was about to throw up any minute. I ignored Aric’s banging on the door demanding that I open it. I ignored his pleading that he didn’t mean to hit me. I turned my light on and looked at myself in the mirror. My eye was already swelling and they both were blood shot red. I touched my jaw and winched at the pain. I could barely stand on my ankle and my hair made me look like a mad woman. I turned the water on to take a sip and as soon as I did I had to throw up. I made it to the toilet just in time. I threw up so much that all I could do was dry heave for a minute. Aric was still knocking on the door and threatened to kick it down if I didn’t open it up. I loved this man, yes I did, but not more than I loved myself. He would not be putting his hands on me another time because this was it! I was done! This was too much to be putting up with for me not to even be in a relationship with him. I was a lot of things, but stupid I would not continue to be. I wanted to be mad at my mother right now. All I saw her do was get her behind kicked, sometimes just because my daddy was having a bad day. I saw her fight with woman after woman because my father just didn’t give a damn and I always wondered why she never left. I promised myself that I would not be my mother. I was startled out of my thoughts when Aric beat on the door again.

  “Aric, please,” I screamed at the door. “Just leave!! Leave me alone and get out of my house!”

  “Chyanne, just open the damn door,” he yelled.

  “No, Aric. I’m done. I . . . cannot do this ....This is too much. You put your hands on me too much!”

  “Don’t act like you haven’t done that shit too! But that’s how you are going to do me? You fuck that nigga and have him mail the pictures to your house! That shit ain’t cool. . . .”

  “But it was cool when you where screwing April right? And who ever . . .”

  He kicked the door and I jumped. “Get out of my house, Aric!”

  “Come make me get the fuck out,” he snapped.

  I never left my bathroom because Aric didn’t leave my room. I pulled my suit off and looked at dark, purple, and red bruises on my side and back. My hip and thigh were hurting and caused me to limp. I was happy that my linen closet was in my bathroom. I pulled down a pillow and two comforters and made myself a pallet in my oversized garden tub. That is where I slept. Throughout the night I could hear Aric moving beside the bathroom door. Every so often he would twist the knob or ask for me to let him in. Each time I ignored him.

  I woke up at about seven the next morning. I heard him yelling at someone on his phone. I heard when he slammed my front door and left. I called out to him to see if he was still there and when I got no answer, I finally left my bathroom. He was gone. I sat down and wrapped my ankle and popped some Tylenol for the rest of my body aches. I would go see a doctor later about my ankle. I was having sharp pains in my stomach and hoping the Tylenol would hurry up and kick in. I sat down at my computer and typed up my resignation letter after picking up all of the photos. No way was I going to keep working there with him either. He could have it all. I showered and put on a purple velour jogging suit with my white DK sneakers. Once I got to my job, I stopped by HR to drop off a resignation letter. When people kept asking why I was leaving, I just told them that I had family issues. I made sure to keep on my glasses so my eye and face could stay hidden. I knew half of the bruise on my jaw still showed, but oh well. I hopped on the elevator and made my way to the seventh floor so I could leave Aric the same letter and clean out my desk. I waited for the elevator to stop and was surprised to see Lola talking to Gabriel.

  “Hey, Chyanne,” Lola spoke to me. Although I found it strange that she spoke to me, I was prepared to speak back.

  Before I could speak out of nowhere somebody punched me so hard, I heard bells ringing. I heard half of the office gasp as I stumbled back. I only had a few seconds to see it was an exotic looking dark skinned chick. She was a tall skinny woman and she had long wavy black hair. She came for me again and I caught her before she got to me again. I threw a punch that knocked her backwards. She looked stunned but I didn’t give her time to think about it. I had no idea who she was or why she’d hit me, but I caught that broad by her hair and slung her to the floor.

  I was quite sure it looked like something off of a YouTube fight video, but I didn’t care. I kept her down by the hair and beat her like she had threatened my life. Every slap, punch, stomp, and kick I gave her was from the pent-up anger I had held inside of me. I beat her for the slap I never paid April back for. I stomped her for the mess Aric had put me through. Through her screams and yells for me to let her go, I imagined she was April and Aric and beat her like she stole something from me! Gabriel had run and tried to get me off of her giving her a chance to get up and kick me in my stomach. I maneuvered around him and punched her in the face as many times as I could before he was finally able to get some help in pulling us apart. One of the security officers had pulled whoever she was to one end of the office and Gabriel was dragging me kicking and screaming to get back to her. He had picked up my purse and shades, and by now, everyone had seen the big bruise on my face. Gabriel escorted me to the elevator and he pushed the buttons for the door to close. Once the doors closed, I let out a frustrated scream.

  “Calm down, Chyanne,” he said to me.

  “Who in hell was that?” I yelled at him. I hadn’t meant to. It just came out that way.

  “That was my sister,” he said to me.

  I was confused. “OK, and what did she come after me for? I don’t even know her.”

  Gabriel looked as if he was about to say something that I didn’t want to hear. “She’s my sister and . . . Aric’s wife.”

  Even though the elevator was moving, my world stopped.

  “No . . . no . . . no . . .” I kept repeating that myself.

  I was so tired of crying, but I couldn’t help it. I l
eaned forward and rested my hands on my knees then came back up to look at Gabriel.

  “What . . . what do you mean his wife?”

  Gabriel exhaled and held his hand to steady me. I guess I looked how I felt. Faint.

  “She’s his wife, Chyanne,” he answered.

  I looked up and squeezed my eyes shut as I tried to catch my breath. I don’t know why . . . wait . . . yes I do. I know why my hand connected with Gabriel’s face. He could have told me the truth.

  He must have known what I was thinking because he absorbed the slap and said, “It wasn’t my place to tell you, Chyanne.”

  “Like hell it wasn’t! If not for me, then at least for your sister!”

  “Not everything is always black and white.”

  “You are so full of it and you know it,” I snapped at him.

  That was the last thing I said to him. I stepped off into the parking deck and limped to my car with Gabriel calling out to me, trying to get my attention. I drove like a bat out of hell trying to get away from that place and all things Aric. Through tears I barreled through traffic. Lord, please let this be a lie! Please tell me the man that I had fallen in love with was not a married man! I was so hurt. The physical pain bombarding my body had nothing on what I was feeling on the inside right now. I wondered how long his wife had known about me. Where had she been all this time? Was it her that he had been talking to on the phone? Was she who he was with in New York? All of these questions attacked my mind at one time. I felt deceived in a sense. Now I knew what he meant when he said he had something that he needed to take care of. It all made sense now, but it still hurt like hell! I had been an unwilling mistress, but at least now I knew that he was not just treating me like crap because of my weight. His wife was the complete opposite of me and it looked like he was giving her hell too!

  I didn’t hear from Aric for two days. My body was aching and my stomach wouldn’t stop hurting. The pain had crippled me. I grabbed my stomach and toppled over in pain as I tried to make my way to the bathroom. The pain was so bad that my knees hit the floor hard and I yelled out. I was tempted to call the police and have her arrested. Just thinking about being sucker punched had me wanting to whoop that trick again.

  My mind kept going back to that night that Shelley had asked Aric about ‘Stephanie’. I wanted to kick myself for being so stupid and naïve. But the pain in my stomach wouldn’t allow me time to think about it. I crawled to the bathroom as I heard my front door open. Through the throbbing pain in my ankle and the gut clenching pain in my stomach, I stood and limped back into my bedroom. Aric stopped at my bedroom door when he saw me. I guess the scratches all over my face and neck and the bruise he had left on my face stopped him. I knew by now that it was no secret what had happened.

  Justin had already called me and told me the talk had started. I was so mad at the man standing in front of me all I could do was struggle to take the ring off my finger, and when I did, I threw it at his head. He easily dodged it and it traveled into the hall, hitting the floor. I heard it bounce a few times.

  “You are a lying . . . I don’t even have words for you right now. So why not just leave and do both of us a favor?”

  My eyes were filled with tears and my throat already hurt from crying all night before. It felt like somebody had fisted the lower half of my stomach and was twisting it for dear life, but I refused to flinch in pain. I wouldn’t let him see me in any more pain than he had already caused. He tried to come near me and I quickly picked up the thick glass vase on my dresser. He stopped.

  “I know you are mad, Chyanne, but you are going to put that damn vase down so I can talk to you,” he snapped at me.

  I looked him over. He was still in business attire and what usually turned me on about him, his eyes, dimples, lips, build, accent, it now revolted me.

  “Forget you, Aric! I hate the day I walked into your office. Curse the day I let you kiss me, the day I let you touch me! I hate you so much right now!”

  I was screaming and yelling. I knew by now I was the talk of the neighborhood.

  “Watch how the hell you speak to me first of all and don’t act like I am not hurt by this shit too,” he started.

  I looked at this man like he had lost his ever loving mind.

  “Hurt! You hurt? You lying son of a bitch!”

  I yelled that in disbelief and before I knew it I had stepped forward and launched the vase at him. He ducked.

  “Chyanne, you had better calm the hell down! Let me explain . . .”

  “You don’t have to explain a damn thing,” I said through bated breaths.

  The pain had me sweating, I was hurting so badly. I squeezed my eyes shut and then quickly opened them.

  “Keep . . . your damn explanation . . .”

  My vision was becoming blurry . . .

  “Chyanne,” I heard him call out to me as he inched his way closer to me.

  “Don’t . . . don’t come near me, Aric. . . .”

  My legs felt unsteady as if they were crumbling underneath me and all I remember is hearing Aric call my name and rushing to catch me as I hit the floor.

  When I woke up it was to the beeps of the machines surrounding me. I looked around and saw I was in a hospital room. I saw Aric sitting to the left of me.

  Although I was still mad at him I asked, “What happened?”

  He leaned forward looking at me. “You passed out.”

  There was an expression on his face that I couldn’t read and I didn’t really care to try and figure it out. I was more concerned with what was wrong with me. I wanted to page a nurse or something but was too weak to move my arms.

  “Will you page a nurse for me and then leave?”

  I was so serious with him.

  “I will call you a nurse, but I am not going anywhere.”

  He stood and I rolled my eyes. I was not in the mood to fight.

  “They will be back soon anyway. They said they were running some tests,” he told me before standing and walking over to the table where a pitcher of water was sitting.

  “Tests for what?”

  “You need to drink some water,” he said to me before answering. “They said you were dehydrated.”

  Come to think about I hadn’t eaten or drunk anything in two days. I tried to snatch the Styrofoam cup from him but he must have known I would have because he had a tight grip on the cup. I rolled my eyes again and eased the cup from his grip. He cut his eyes at me and pressed the button to let the bed up to angle it so I could drink. He removed his watch as he always did when he was going to play in my hair. I moved my head and side eyed him hard. He only adjusted my pillow. I tried to bring the cup to my mouth and my hand was shaking like I had Parkinson’s. He watched me as I tried twice to drink from the cup, but wasted more on me than I did the first time. He removed the cup from my hands, poured more water into it, and then held it to my mouth. I didn’t want to take anything from him. I kept my lips tight.

  “Drink the damn water, Chyanne! Stop . . .”

  Before he could finish, I mustered up enough strength and knocked the cup from his hand to the floor. Water splashed all over his expensive suit. I would die of thirst before I took anything from him again.

  Before he could retaliate or before I could finish my thoughts a tall black woman in a white lab coat entered the room. She introduced herself as Dr. St. Simeon. I listened as she explained that they had run a few tests and asked when my last menstrual cycle was. I had to think back and told her it was in October. I also told her that my cycle had a mind of its own and came and went as it pleased. She nodded and I waited for her to say more.

  “Well that explains it,” she said as she scribbled notes.

  “Explains what?”

  She looked at me and smiled. “Why you are twelve to thirteen weeks pregnant and don’t know it.”

  “Excuse me!” I shouted that at her. She looked taken aback and I apologized. I calmed myself enough for her to repeat what she had said.

  �
��Your body shut down on you because you haven’t been getting the proper prenatal care and it looks like you have been in a fight or two. Do you need me to call the police? Is anyone physically harming you at home, Ms. Johnson? There are laws in the state of Georgia that protects a woman with child against any kind of domestic violence. Once again, is anyone physically harming you Ms. Johnson?”

  She looked over at Aric like she cared even less for his presence than I did. She slowly rolled her eyes from him back over to me.

  I shook my head. “No.” Although I wanted to have him and his wife arrested, I was more concerned with the life that was or was still inside of me. “Did I lose the baby?”

  “No, but you were very close to it. We are going to keep you here overnight to keep an eye on you to determine if you get to go home or if we keep you in here until you have this baby. It is possible that you may still miscarry and just to be sure that we are out of trouble and in the clear we will run more tests. Your cervix is thin and your progesterone levels are low, and for that reason, it may be a possibility that you may have to either stay in here until you deliver or we may seek other solutions like the P17 shot. If it comes down to any of those things, I will explain everything to you thoroughly at that time. Cool?”

  It took me a minute to register what she was saying to me, but I nodded. She gave Aric the once over again and walked out of the room. If I was twelve to thirteen weeks pregnant that meant I got pregnant around the first time we had sex. I fiddled with my fingers and held my head down. Here I was twenty five years old; I had quit my job, and was pregnant by a married man. How in the hell did I find myself here? I wanted to ask Aric so many questions, but my mind could only think about this life that was inside of me. Tears started to slowly fall down my face. I looked over at Aric and he was standing there with his arms folded across his wide chest.

  I was about to ask him about this wife of his and what we were going to do about this baby, but before I could open my mouth, he asked “Is it my baby?”

  I frowned and looked at him. “Are you really asking me that?”