The Love I Never Expected

Chapter 8 — The Life Growing Inside Me

When Jason and I started living together again, I wanted to believe that everything would finally be different.

We had moved into a small house not far from his workplace. I also have a job now as a medical secretary at a hospital.

For the first few weeks, everything seemed peaceful.

There were no arguments.

No shouting.

No hitting.

No nights filled with tears.

I began to think that maybe Jason had really changed.

Maybe the pain we had gone through had finally taught him something.

I wanted to believe that.

More than anything, I wanted our relationship to work.

I wanted to prove to my parents that I hadn’t made a mistake by giving him another chance.

One evening, Jason told me that some of his friends wanted to come over.

“Babe, my friends are coming tonight. We’re going to drink here.”

I hesitated.

But I eventually nodded.

“Okay.”

I thought about my father.

He had finally accepted that Jason and I were together again.

I thought maybe this time, nothing bad would happen.

I prepared some food and allowed them to drink in our house.

At first, everything was fine.

They were laughing and talking.

I stayed nearby, listening to their conversations.

But as alcohol started taking effect, their behavior changed.

Their voices became louder.

Their jokes became inappropriate.

Then someone started talking about looking for women.

I felt uncomfortable.

I didn’t want to be part of the conversation.

But I never expected what happened next.

“Let’s go out and look for a girl,” one of them said.

I stared at them.

“What?”

Jason laughed.

“Come on. Let’s go.”

I didn’t understand why I had to come with them.

But I followed because I didn’t want to start another argument with Jason.

It was already around midnight when we went outside.

I felt embarrassed as we walked around.

His friends approached women and asked questions that made me want to disappear.

I stood there beside them, feeling humiliated.

I couldn’t believe I was part of it.

I wanted to go home.

I wanted to walk away.

But I was afraid that if I refused, Jason would become angry again.

For hours, we went from one place to another.

Eventually, they couldn’t find anyone.

It was already early morning when we finally returned home.

Jason barely spoke to me.

I didn’t ask him anything.

I simply went to bed.

The next morning, I woke up and realized he was already gone.

He had gone to work without saying goodbye.

I got ready for work as well.

I didn’t even eat breakfast.

I wasn’t hungry.

I just wanted to get through the day.

At five in the afternoon, I finished work.

Before going home, I stopped at the market.

I bought chicken and a few other ingredients.

I wanted to prepare dinner for Jason.

Maybe we could talk.

Maybe everything will be okay again.

When I got home, I started cooking.

The smell of food filled our small house.

I waited for him.

Seven o’clock came.

Then eight.

Then nine.

Still no Jason.

I tried calling him.

No answer.

I sent him a message.

Nothing.

I sat at the table and stared at the food I had prepared.

Eventually, I became too tired to stay awake.

But even when I closed my eyes, I couldn’t stop worrying.

Where is he?

Is he okay?

Why isn’t he coming home?

The next day, I went to work again.

My life had become a routine.

Work.

Go home.

Cook.

Wait for Jason.

Try not to argue.

Try not to make him angry.

Try to keep our relationship together.

That night, I arrived home late.

Not long after, Jason finally came.

I looked at him.

“Have you eaten already?”

“Yes,” he answered.

“Are you still hungry?”

“No. I’m still full.”

He didn’t even look at me.

After a few minutes, he suddenly said, “I’m going out.”

I looked at him.

“Where?”

“My friends are asking me to drink.”

My stomach tightened.

Not again.

But I didn’t want another argument.

So I forced myself to stay quiet.

“Okay. Just be careful.”

He left.

I stayed alone.

I tried to sleep.

But I couldn’t.

Every time I heard a sound outside, I thought it was him.

I kept checking the time.

Midnight.

One o’clock.

Then two.

Suddenly—

BANG!

I woke up.

Someone was making noise outside.

It was Jason.

He was extremely drunk.

The moment he entered the house, his mood changed.

He started shouting at me.

“What are you looking at?”

“I wasn’t doing anything.”

“Why are you always like this?”

I didn’t answer.

I knew where this could lead.

Then he started throwing things.

My belongings were thrown across the room.

I became terrified.

I grabbed my bag and my phone.

I didn’t wait for him to hurt me.

I ran outside.

I quickly found a cab and told the driver to take me to my parents’ house.

All the way there, I was crying.

When I arrived, my mother and father were surprised.

“Why are you here?”

I wiped my tears.

“I just came to visit.”

My mother looked at me suspiciously.

“At this hour?”

“I’ll sleep here tonight. I don’t want to be alone.”

I lied.

I couldn’t tell them the truth.

I was afraid they would blame themselves for allowing me to return to Jason.

More than that, I was afraid they would tell me what I already knew.

Leave him.

I stayed at my parents’ house that night.

For the first time in a long time, I felt safe.

Early the next morning, I returned to the house Jason and I shared.

The moment I opened the door, I froze.

I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.

Our television was broken.

The chairs were damaged.

Things were scattered everywhere.

The house looked as if someone had destroyed it in anger.

Then I saw my clothes.

My heart sank.

Many of them had been ripped and ruined.

I picked up one of my dresses with trembling hands.

Tears immediately fell from my eyes.

I sent Jason a message.

Why did you destroy my things?

His reply came quickly.

It wasn’t an apology.

It was filled with insults.

He blamed me.

He cursed at me.

He told me that I brought bad luck into his life.

I stared at my phone while crying.

How could the man I once thought was kindly become this person?

I suddenly felt dizzy.

My head was spinning.

I sat down and tried to breathe.

The dizziness didn’t stop.

So I decided to get myself checked at the hospital.

I never expected the doctor to tell me something that would change my life forever.

After the examination, the doctor looked at me.

“Congratulations.”

I stared at him.

“For what?”

“You’re pregnant.”

For a moment, I couldn’t speak.

Pregnant.

I was carrying a baby.

Tears immediately filled my eyes.

I placed my hand on my stomach.

There was a life growing inside me.

But instead of feeling completely happy, I felt afraid.

What kind of life am I going to give my child?

What kind of father will Jason be?

Will our baby grow up seeing the same things I have seen?

I cried quietly.

I didn’t know whether to be happy or terrified.

When I told Jason about the pregnancy, his reaction surprised me.

He seemed happy.

Or at least, he tried to look happy.

He smiled and hugged me.

“Really?”

I nodded.

“I’m pregnant.”

For a moment, I saw the man I had fallen in love with again.

I wanted to believe that our baby would change him.

Maybe becoming a father would make him responsible.

Maybe he would stop drinking.

Maybe he will stop hurting me.

Maybe our family will finally become complete.

That hope was the only thing I had left.

As the days passed, we had fewer arguments.

Not because Jason had truly changed.

But because I was protecting my baby.

Whenever his temper started rising, I would step away.

I became more careful.

I avoided anything that might make him angry.

I went back to my parents’ house and showed them my ultrasound.

“Ma… Pa…”

They looked at the picture.

“I’m pregnant.”

My mother became emotional.

My father smiled, but I could see the worry in his eyes.

“Take care of yourself, sweet

“I will, Pa.”

I wanted them to believe that everything was going to be okay.

I wanted to believe it too.

I told myself that the baby would change everything.

That Jason would finally become a good partner.

That our family would be happy.

But deep inside, I knew something was still wrong.

Jason hadn’t really changed.

He still drank.

He still became angry.

And sometimes, when his temper got out of control, he would still raise his hand or make threatening movements toward me.

Whenever that happened, I immediately moved away.

I protected my stomach with both hands.

I was no longer thinking only about myself.

There was someone else inside me now.

Someone innocent.

Someone who had done nothing wrong.

As my belly grew bigger, I spent more time at home.

I cooked.

I cleaned.

I worked whenever I could.

And Jason continued drinking.

Sometimes, it felt like I was nothing more than a decorator in our house.

Sometimes, I felt like a maid.

Sometimes, I felt completely alone even when he was beside me.

Still, I kept hoping.

I kept telling myself:

Maybe tomorrow will be different.

Maybe when the baby is born, Jason will change.

Maybe our child will finally bring us happiness.

I didn’t know then that I was holding on to the hope that it would soon break my heart.

My stomach continued to grow.

My due date was getting closer.

And with every movement of my baby inside me, I became more afraid of the future.

I had once dreamed of having a happy family.

Now, I was carrying a child into a life filled with uncertainty.

I didn’t know what waited for me after childbirth.

I didn’t know how much more pain I would have to endure.

But one thing was certain.

The little life growing inside me had become the most important reason for me to keep going.

And soon, my baby will enter this world.

I only prayed that I would be strong enough to protect us both.