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“You know the big thing I wasn’t ready to tell you at first?” I say. “I want to tell you now. I’m dreading this conversation, and Dix’s chair is comforting to me. I also just want to talk instead of doing anything physical during this conversation.”
Anton nods and turns to face me. “Okay, babe. Whatever makes you comfortable.”
I take a deep breath and offer a small smile. “You make me comfortable. But this is still going to be hard for me. I just need to get it out, though.” Laying my palms on Dix’s worn, soft blanket in my lap, I continue, my heart beating rapid-fire. “When I was seventeen, I got pregnant.”
Anton arches his brows slightly. I’m sure he wasn’t expecting this.
“I was terrified,” I continue. “And so ashamed. I got good grades and my grandparents were proud of me. I couldn’t tell them. I just couldn’t.” Tears flood my eyes as I remember. “My mother was seventeen when she had me, and she wasn’t ready to be a mom. My grandparents worked so hard raising me, and I knew they’d see her in me if I told them. I mean, I saw her in me. I’d spent so long hating her and thinking she was just stupid and irresponsible.”
I see emotions swimming in Anton’s eyes, but I can’t place them. I’ve already started, though, so I continue.
“I wasn’t ready to be a mother. The father of the baby, he freaked out when I told him. I’m not…” I take another deep breath. “I’m not telling you any of this to make excuses. Just trying to give you the full picture. I guess, the part that matters the most is…I got an abortion. I didn’t have much money and I didn’t know where to go, so I went to this guy a friend told me about. And…” I swallow hard. “It was horrible. I cried the entire time because I felt so sad and it hurt so much. I was there by myself. I bled so much…”
“Oh, Mia.” Anton stands up and walks over to the recliner. “I know you said nothing physical, but I have to.” He gets down on his knees and puts his arms around me.
I hug him back, relieved for the chance to take a breather from the bad memories. His chest is warm and firm against mine, his arms strong and comforting. But after a minute, I put my palms on his chest and ease him back.
“I was taking the El train home and I bled so much I passed out. People on the train called 911 and an ambulance came. So as badly as I wanted to keep it from my grandparents, I couldn’t. I was hospitalized. The guy who did the abortion wasn’t even a real doctor and he messed me up pretty bad. And the reason this matters now is because…” I look down, unable to meet his gaze. “I can’t have kids.”
He cups my cheeks and raises my face until we’re eye to eye. “I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine how hard that was.”
I swallow hard, fighting back tears. “I told Adam when we were dating and he said it was okay, but then…he brought it up after we got married. It’s the reason he called me a ghetto whore. He told me I was damaged goods and I was damn lucky he still wanted me.”
“He’s a mean fucking bastard. Adam’s good at finding people’s weak spots and exploiting them.”
“But in part, it’s true,” I say sadly. “I am damaged. Literally. My uterus was ruined. It’s not just that it would be hard for me to have babies, there’s a one hundred percent chance I can’t.”
My emotions spill over from saying the words that will haunt me forever. Tears fall from my eyes onto Anton’s hands, still cradling my face.
“Mia, you’re not damaged,” he says firmly. “What happened to you is tragic, but it wasn’t your fault.”
“But you want babies.” I can’t seem to stop crying now. “And I can’t give you babies.”
“There are other ways.” Anton brushes my tears away with his thumbs. “I don’t care how we make it happen, as long as we both want kids. Do you want kids?”
“Yes. Not anytime soon, but someday, yes.”
The corners of his lips turn up slightly. “I’m sorry you felt like you needed to hold that in, babe. I’m really glad you told me.”
“And…you’re sure this won’t be a problem later?”
“I’m positive.”
He puts his arms around me and pulls me close again. I sink against him, weak with relief. I was prepared for how badly things could go; I didn’t want to even hope the conversation would go okay.
After a couple minutes, Anton pulls away, stands up and reaches for my hands to help me up.
“I want you to do something for me,” he says.
