Control

She waited until he was calm and dinner was taken away. How would he react to the news?

Slowly she stood up in front of him. "Honey-bear, I have something to tell you..."

He looked up at her, her usual cheery face was replaced by an unsure visage. "Is it good news or bad?"

"A little of each," she went over it in her mind: on one hand it was wonderful news that could bring the two of them closer together; but on the other it was the worst news in the world - from a financial point of view, at least. "You're going to be a daddy," she whispered.

"WHAT?!" She expected such a reaction. It was a surprise to her, too. But then his face became stone and his voice ice, "You can't have a baby. You don't need a child yet." You? What happened to 'us'? Her thoughts became muffled by his words, "You can't have this baby. Get an abortion. How far along are you? Never mind that, we'll schedule an appointment for the morning." He started for the phone. Before he picked it up, she put her hand sternly on his.

"I will not have an abortion. I'm going to carry this baby to term if I can."

"Then you'll do so without me. You're not ready for a child and neither am I. An abortion would be our best option."

She couldn't believe what she was hearing. He knew how religious she was and how unethical she believed abortions were. His words were like daggers ripping out her heart. "I will not have an abortion. I will not kill something we made. I will not kill a part of me. I want my child, no matter if it is a boy or girl, to have a father. And it will. Either physically or financially, you will be a part of this baby's future. And you can stop with all the yous. It takes two to tango and when the music played, you danced, too. You're every bit a part of this as I am, so get your act together and take responsibility for what you helped create!"

Her steady voice came easily to her. And her control over her anger was wonderful, too. Those were two things he loved about her. But her demanding him to raise a child he did not want was a slap in the face to him. "If you want that thing, then keep it. You won't get a dime from me. You won't be able to prove it is mine - I won't give a blood sample!"

"I'll sue if I have to. If you leave me, I'll drain you of every last penny you have in your bank account."

He couldn't stand her calmness anymore. He would not stand here and take her demands and threats anymore. Before she said any more, he backhanded her. Caught off guard, she crashed onto the coffee table. Bits of glass cut into her soft, well tanned flesh. Blood spouted out onto the white carpet from her neck. Her right shoulder and arm dislocated and broke as the weight from her nearly lifeless body rolled onto them. Her stomach, still small and hiding the life being created, opened in several places. Her lovely face became disfigured and unrecognizable. Her perfect breasts tore until they were indistinguishable from the rest of her petite body.

Remorse of his actions was the furthest thing from his mind. Satisfaction coursed his veins as he stared down at the finale of the conversation. He would never be forced to do something he did not wish to.