I know you think am naïve, going back to him after he slapped me. I guess you would have told me to run as fast as my legs would take me. But if you did I wouldn’t have listened. My friend tried to tell me that it was just the beginning but I didn’t listen.
Things were pretty calm again. He never hit me again. At least not until after we were married. He had gone out one night and came home drunk. I was 6 months pregnant, and didn’t want to go out so I went to bed early. He came home at 2. I guess he was expecting me to be up waiting for him to come so I open the door. He knocked furiously on the door but I was deep in sleep so I didn’t hear him.
He called me on the cellphone. When I came to open the door he was spitting mad. He slapped me, asked me what kind of a wife I was, sleeping when her husband is knocking on the door. I tried to tell him I was resting. That made him see red.
He punched me in the breasts and then kicked me. I fell to the ground and started screaming. I felt pain in my abdomen. God was I losing my baby. I started screaming at him that I was losing the baby.
As if in a trance he switched back to my love. He told me he was so sorry. He couldn’t believe that he had done such a thing. “Baby it was the alcohol,” he told me. He wept as he drove me to the hospital.
“Baby am so sorry. The devil entered me. Forgive me baby I never meant to hurt you.” He chanted over and over.
When I reached the hospital I was taken to emergency. The doctor looked me over and asked me what had happened. I looked at my husband. He looked so helpless and sorry. He could not have meant to hurt me or our baby.
I lied, never knowing that that would be the first lie in a series of lies to come. That this would be my first visit to the hospital and not the last.
to be continued ........................