CHAPTER ELEVEN
Candace
The last weeks of the semester after spring break were always the most stressful. Final papers were due, project deadlines coming up. I missed Ty and it was difficult for me to remember to eat, so I didn't really think twice about missing my cycle. I wouldn't have even taken a pregnancy test, but then I started puking in the morning. It was kind of unsettling. At first, I thought I had the flu, but then, as I was talking to one of my closer female friends at school, I remembered having sex with Ty and we hadn't used a condom. I tried not to think about it, I tried to tell myself I was being silly, but then, I was quickly obsessed. I couldn't stop worrying about whether I was pregnant or not, so after two days of fretting and losing sleep, I dragged myself to the drug store and bought a pregnancy test.
I did it, and it came up positive, but I didn't believe my eyes. Being the neurotic perfectionist I am, I went back to the drug store and bought two of every available brand. The cashier looked at me like I was crazy and I mulishly avoided making eye contact.Within an hour, I was on my bathroom floor, surrounded by a dozen positive pregnancy tests, crying my eyes out.
The worst part was, I couldn’t be sure who the father was.
I had had sex with Brad like a week before I was with Ty and both times were without a condom. The thought of having Brad's child made me want to crawl out of my skin. The thought of having Ty's child made my heart soar. The thought of having a child, period, was fucking terrifying.
I cried myself to sleep, puked in the morning, and went to class feeling weak and exhausted. I felt like this was a good time to call Ty because I thought I was too tired to get overly emotional. But when I heard his voice, I came completely undone.
My friends could tell that there was something wrong with me. I hadn't told anyone else yet because I was scared, and part of me honestly wasn't sure I could keep this baby. The thought of going to grad school while pregnant was kind of depressing, but it was even more depressing to think of quitting grad school to have a baby. The mountain of responsibility that came with a baby scared the shit out of me and I didn't know if I was mentally stable enough to handle it... in fact, the mere thought of being forced to gain a bunch of weight to keep the baby healthy, really upset me. I mean, I know it sounds shallow and selfish... but that's why I felt like I couldn't keep it. What kind of a mother would even have thoughts like that?
But talking to Ty, once I calmed down enough to tell him what was going on, really helped. His voice always made the ground feel more solid beneath my feet. He sounded shocked and a little dismayed at first, but then I heard the excitement creep into his voice. A tenderness that I had always seen in him, but multiplied by many times. Talking to Ty made me feel warm, from the pit of my stomach, right up to my cheeks. He spoke to me softly, gently, he reassured me, and I hung up feeling a lot better.
But that night, as I drifted off to sleep, I realized that I hadn't told Brad. Finding out I was pregnant was one thing, but what would he do once I told him I didn’t know who the father is?
Wrestling with that thought kept me awake until dawn. I started debating with myself about whether I should try and talk to him at all. Honestly, I had never been so anxious in my life, because didn't Brad have a right to know it was his if it was? Didn't he deserve to know there was a chance I would have his baby? Then again, I didn't care about Brad anymore. If I was gonna be with anyone, I wanted it to be Ty Jameson Franklin and no other man on earth would do. In that respect, the baby was already his...
But what if it wasn't?
I couldn't lie to Ty. It was bad enough that I had forgotten to tell him yesterday. I hoped he wouldn't be too upset, but there was no way I could keep it from him any longer. The guilt would drive me insane. And as I felt guilty for not telling Ty, I suddenly felt bad for not telling Brad a thing. I knew it was the right thing to do, and ethically, it seemed wrong to keep it from him.
So, after staying in bed until almost noon, nibbling on a few crackers for breakfast, and sending Ty a "Call me when you can" text,I made a bad decison.
I called Brad.
"Hey?" he said, sounding so smug I almost hung up on him, but the guilt turned my stomach again.
"Hey," I said. "Do you, um... have a minute? I need to talk to you."
A few seconds of silence followed. "Uh, I mean... I guess so. What is it?"
My heart pounded. My throat closed. I'm pregnant. I couldn't say it. I held my breath.
"Candace?"
"Yeah, yeah... sorry.Could you, uh... come over, maybe?"
"Ugh..."
"Sorry, it won't take long, but it's really important."
"Fine. I'll be there in half an hour."
I was so nervous and frightened that I almost gave myself a panic attack as soon as I hung up. I lay down on the couch with my eyes closed, hugging my abdomen, riding wave after wave of dizziness, trapped in an endless hamster wheel of my own thoughts.
And then came a knock on the door.
I got up so fast that my vision blacked out and I stumbled, grabbing the doorknob as my knees gave out. Cursing, I opened the door and struggled to stand, repulsed by the sight of my horrible ex-boyfriend.
"Jesus," he muttered. "You look like hell. Did you relapse? Oh my god, did you shoot up?"
"No," I snapped, shutting the door a bit too loudly behind him. "I'm fine. Well, I'm not fine, I—"
"Yeah, I'll say. You've got dark circles under your eyes and you're really pale. I can tell you're weak just by how you're moving. It's kinda pathetic."
"Fuck you."
"You look like you lost weight though—"
"Fuck off!" I cried, burying my face in my hands, wishing I hadn't called him. It wasn't until he was there, throwing barbs at my self-esteem that I realized he didn't need to know. I could've dealt with this thing either way without his involvement. Shit, I didn't even want him involved. I just felt like I "should" tell him, but now, I felt stupid. My phone buzzed in my pocket, Ty was texting me. I responded, unable to stop a little smile from curling on my lips.
"The fuck are you smiling about?" Brad grumbled. "Are you gonna tell me why you called me or you gonna just read your texts all day?"
"Ty is what I'm smiling about, and... I..." I looked up at Brad, and a sudden surge of anger made me spit it out, "I'm pregnant and I don't know if it's yours or his."
Brad frowned, then crossed his arms. "So?"
"So... I thought you might want to know that you might have a kid on the way?" I said, matching his interrogative tone mockingly. "Don't you care?"
"I mean... until you know whether it's mine or not, why should I care?"
"You son of a bitch," I spat, "I don't know why I ever dated you! How can you be so nonchalant about this!? I'm pregnant for fuck's sake! This is a big deal, you asshole!" I took a step toward him, my hands balled into fists at my sides. I could feel my rational mind coming unhinged from stress, anxiety, fear, hunger, sleep deprivation, and sheer hatred of the so-called man in front of me. "If I knew it was yours I'd seriously consider having an abortion you limp-dick piece of shit!"
His facial expression never changed, but his arms came unfolded in a flash and he hit me right on the jaw with his fist. Stars exploded before my eyes and I staggered backward, backing up against the sofa. His face was pale with rage, twin spots of color in his cheeks as he advanced on me like a stalking panther. I whimpered, and fell backward on the couch, struggling to get away, because I knew that face. I had seen it more than once before.
He rounded the side of the couch much faster than I was capable of moving and grabbed me by my upper arms. I struggled against him and his grip tightened, wrenching tears from my eyes. He threw me down on the couch and started tearing at my clothes. I screamed and kicked repeatedly towards Brad, surpisingly nailing a blow to his groin. I then got up, attempting to hide by behind the couch. I then remembered I had my phone in my pocket so while he was in pain, I managed to send Ty a text.
I thought about the baby. The idea of losing the baby filled me with towering grief. I was so weak and in so much pain that I couldn't even struggle anymore as I felt Brad picking me up and throwing me down on the couch. Brad saw my phone and he quickly swatted the phone out of my hands. He started clawing at my top, too, and I was bawling at the top of my voice.
Brad unzipped his pants and pulled them down, but right as he clamped his hand down over my mouth to silence me, the front door to my apartment slammed open and four security guards descended on Brad, pepper sprayed his eyes, and handcuffed him. Behind the guards came Ty, his eyes wild as he ran to me and held me, kissing me over and over, wrapping my exhausted body in the couch blanket. Once I was in his arms and covered up, I buried my face in his chest and wept.
"I’m never leaving you again," Ty swore fiercely, his arms tight around my body. "I'm so sorry, Candy, darlin'... are you hurt?"
"I-I don't know," I whispered. "I'm so glad you're here, Ty, he— he might have—"
"Shhh," he said, rocking me back and forth a few times. "It's okay, babe. I'm here, and I'm not goin' anywhere. I gotta take care of my baby-mama."
"Ty..." My voice shook. I didn't know if I could handle any more emotional trauma, but I couldn't hold it in any longer. "I— I don't—... I don't know whose it is." I closed my eyes and braced myself for his reaction.
"The baby?" he said.
I could only nod.
"It's mine," he said softly, rubbing his palm across my back. "You're mine. And that's all that matters."
***
Later on that day, I was in the hospital. The baby was still alive, but I was in bad shape from all the stress and morning sickness— underweight, anemic, heart arrhythmia, basically a perfect storm for having a miscarriage if I wasn't careful. They said they'd keep me there until I recovered. Unsurprisingly, I had a few visits from the hospital psychiatrist as well as the medical doctor. Ty, of course, stayed with me the whole time.
A few days after the incident with Brad, a strange man came to visit while I was talking with Ty about him moving in with me until I finished grad school. We both looked up in surprise as the man just waltzed in and stood beside the bed. He was dressed very nicely in a suit and tie and had with him a manila folder with a sheaf of papers. He sat down without even being invited.
"And who the hell are you?" I asked coldly, unamused by the intrusion.
"Reginald Quincy, Esquire," he said, sliding a business card across the tray table where my lunch sat.
"A lawyer?"
"Yes. I am, in fact, a close associate of your friend, Miss Nina Earhardt."
"Oh?" I cocked my head to the side. "What's... up?" I was thoroughly confused, and so was Ty. He was on the defensive, holding my hand tight.
"Miss Earhardt informed me of the details of your case, Ms. Owens—"
"My case?" I said, nonplussed.
’Your pending lawsuit against one Mr.…” he paused to check his folder, “-Brad Meyer for assault, battery, and attempted rape."
My jaw dropped. "What the… What lawsuit? I never filed any—"
"The Meyer estate," interrupted Reginald Quincy, Esquire, "has offered a settlement. A cash settlement, if you don't take the case to trial."
"What? What does that even mean?"
"To put it into layman’s terms, they’re offering you a cash settlement of one million dollars, plus medical and legal fees, if you don't take this to trial. He'll plead guilty to the charges and we'll all move on with our lives."
"What? But... why?" I pinched the bridge of my nose. "That doesn't make sense..."
"Mr. Meyer Senior wishes to settle this matter as quickly and as quietly as possible," the lawyer said with a shrug. "If it went to trial, you would likely be able to get greater compensation and harsher charges, but it'd take months, and be a very long, drawn-out, very public process. If I were you, Ms. Owens, I would take the settlement."
"Fuck that!" Ty spat, "That piece of shit deserves to be run into the ground and I hope every newspaper on the East Coast is talkin' about it—"
"No," I said quietly. I gave Ty a meaningful look and rested his hand on my stomach. His face softened and the anger melted away. I looked back at the lawyer. "That would be fine, Mr. Quincy. Where do I sign?"
Quincy put the folder on my tray table and set a pen on top of it. "I've highlighted all the appropriate fields in there."
I picked up the pen and could barely keep the smile off my face. With each time I signed my name, I felt a little bit of weight lift off my shoulders.Brad was going to jail, Ty was moving in with me, I was gonna be a mother, and within a few weeks, we would be pretty much independently wealthy. My hand was shaking as I turned over each page of legalese, and the stack to be signed got smaller and smaller until I had finally finished. It was done. I handed the folder back to the lawyer and smiled at him.
"Tell Ms. Earhardt that I said hello... and... thank you." My chin quivered and I pressed a hand to my heart. "Do you mind if I ask, though, why are you doing this for us?"
Quincy shrugged. "Nina's engaged to my sister." He grinned, gave us a polite nod, then spun on his heels and sauntered off.