Sonny's POV

At ten o'clock I was sitting on the couch, ready for Mitchie to return home from work, dreading the talk we were about to have. I couldn't stop thinking about how she would react and what I would say to her. The memories of everything still played fresh in my mind and I was terrified of reliving them when I finally told her all about my past.

My phone ringing from next to me pulled me from my thoughts and I saw that it was Mitchie calling.

"Hello?" I asked, wondering why she was bothering to call me when she was due home within the next ten minutes.

"Hey, Mom, I was wondering if Alex could stay over tonight please." She hinted nervously.

"Absolutely not, I wouldn't let a boy sleep over so I'm not letting your girlfriend sleep over; I thought you wanted to talk tonight anyway?" I asked her, using that as an excuse for Alex to not stay. It wasn't that I didn't like Alex but I still wasn't comfortable with the idea of my little girl having a girlfriend, let alone a girlfriend that slept over on a regular basis.

"I do but Alex won't judge you… please, Mom." She asked again and I shook my head before realising that she couldn't see me. She didn't know that Alex and I had arranged for her to sleep over on her birthday and honestly, that to me was pushing it.

"No. Not happening, Michelle." I told her firmly. She sighed over the phone and mumbled something to Alex who groaned in annoyance in the background. "I let her sleep over yesterday when you didn't even ask, she's not staying again. That was a one off." I told her before hanging up the phone, not willing to argue with her.

Fifteen minutes later she came through the front door and sat on the couch opposite me, still slightly annoyed that I hadn't allowed Alex to stay over.

"So, what do you want to know about your father?" I asked her, getting straight to the point.

"Everything." She told me simply.

"His name was Chad Dylan Cooper-Torres, but he always dropped the Torres because he thought it made him sound too 'namey,' he used to always tell me how much he hated the stupid name. You got Torres because I knew that he would never search for you using that name, it would be Munroe or Cooper but never Torres. He was the vainest guy I'd ever met but something drew me in to him. He was gorgeous, every girl in college wanted him but he chose me, he made me feel special and wanted for a few months before we got serious…"

Flashback.

It was my first day of college at NYU, I had worked all my life for this and I got it. When I arrived at my first lecture I noticed a blonde-haired boy with bright blue eyes watching me as I walked in, despite the amount of slutty-looking girls swooning over him. As I walked past him, he wolf-whistled at me and I blushed a deep crimson.

Throughout the lesson I caught him looking at me repeatedly and at the end he waited behind for me because I was speaking to the lecturer.

"Hey there, pretty lady. I'm Chad, Chad Dylan Cooper." He introduced himself outside the door, putting his hand out for me to shake. I took his hand and he brought it to his lips, kissing the back of my hand softly and causing me to giggle like a schoolgirl.

"I'm Sonny, Sonny Munroe." I replied, blushing at his action. He grinned at me, the light from the skylight bouncing off his shiny white teeth and causing them to sparkle.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Sonny. I know you may probably think I'm a little forward but I think you're beautiful, I would really love to take you out some time." He told me boldly as we walked slowly through the school grounds. I was taken aback by what he'd just said; I'd never had a boyfriend before, I'd never even had my first kiss. I wasn't someone that guys would pay attention to in high school and I expected college to be the same so when the guy that every girl seemed to be attracted to asked me out, I just couldn't resist.

"Sure," I told him simply, writing the address to the small apartment that my parents had bought me as a graduation gift. It was a few minutes away from the college so it was perfect for getting there and back without polluting the earth and it saved me having to share a dorm with someone I didn't know and that probably wouldn't like me.

"I'll pick you up at seven?" He asked charmingly. I nodded in agreement, lost for words at this beautiful man's interest in me.

After a few months of dating he asked me to be his girlfriend. He was everything a girl like me could ever want in a guy; he was sweet, understanding, caring, charming and gorgeous. He made me happy and I felt like I could really be myself around him. We literally never argued, we got on like a house on fire. He walked me to all my classes, even if he didn't have a class himself and he proudly walked around holding my hand, telling everyone that I was his girlfriend and that he was off-limits.

During the summer holidays after our first year of college he moved in with me and then a year later on August twentieth, my twentieth birthday, he asked me to marry him and I said yes. We hadn't done anything further than making out and he seemed totally okay with that, he would always stay at my apartment or I would stay in his dorm occasionally, we'd kiss in bed for a little bit and then we'd fall asleep in each other's arms cuddling.

My parents loved him, they welcomed him to the family with open arms and they gave him their permission to marry me before he actually proposed to me. He was everybody's idea of a perfect guy, he could have had any girl he wanted, yet he chose me; the girl who wanted to wait until marriage for sex and had never even had a boyfriend before.

Everything was blissful between us for a few months until Valentine's day. He showered me with cute, loving gifts all day from the moment I woke up and he took me out, treated me like a princess for the entire day; he took me to the zoo and afterward we went for a fancy meal. He'd had a few too many beers whilst I'd been the designated driver with no intentions of breaking the law and drinking at twenty.

"Baby, I have your last present in our bedroom. Give me five minutes then come in. Close your eyes before you come into the room; I want you to be totally surprised." He instructed me, causing me to become really curious and do as he asked. After he called me I made my way to our bedroom and found my surprise.

He'd lit a bunch of candles, put soft, romantic music on, covered the bed in rose petals and was standing there completely naked with a big, stupid grin on his face. "Baby, I think it's time we finally made love. We're getting married soon, we're committed to one another and I want us to make the ultimate commitment." He announced proudly as I shielded my eyes from the sight of him, panicking slightly at what he'd asked me to do. It was undeniable that he had a good body but I just couldn't.

"I… Chad, this is so adorable… but I'm not ready." I admitted to him quietly as I took a seat on the bed, looking at the blank wall away from him. He sighed loudly and I heard him zipping something up. Assuming it was his jeans I turned around; I was right, thankfully.

"Come on, Sonny, baby. You don't want me to go looking for this elsewhere, do you?" He asked me seriously. I panicked slightly; I didn't want to lose him to some slut that would give him exactly what he wanted at a click of his fingers.

"No, I really don't, Chad… I love you but I'm just not ready." I repeated myself softly, turning slightly to avoid his gaze as he stood in front of me to speak to me. "I thought you were okay with waiting until we get married." I told him sadly.

"I thought you were only joking," He replied, seeming slightly angry that I'd declined his advances. "God, you can't really expect me to stay with you if you're not giving me what I want… look at you, you're not even that hot! I could sleep with someone so much hotter than you and she'd be willing to do it every night, I mean, have you seen me?" He asked arrogantly, balling his fists in frustration. I shook my head, a few tears slipping from my eyes.

"Please don't say things like that." I whispered to him quietly, genuinely believing what he'd said to me.

"Why the fuck not?! They're totally true! I got told you were a virgin by my friends and I saw you as a challenge… I never fail a challenge. I will get my dick in your pu…" He began to shout but I cut him off quickly because of the disgusting things he was saying.

"Don't use those words, they're not nice!" I told him firmly, causing a sharp pain to pass through my left cheek; he'd slapped me.

"Do not fucking interrupt me! God, Sonny, grow up! It happens, sex happens and you're not living in the real world if you're naïve enough to believe it doesn't." He growled at me. I didn't say anything; I was too shocked that he'd just laid his hands on me in anger. My cheek was stinging and my mouth felt numb, I wasn't sure I could physically make it move to respond. I'd never been hit by anyone before, in school I never had friends but I didn't have enemies either, no one paid enough attention to me to actually want to hurt me. "Don't ignore me!" He yelled again, adding another blow to my cheek and causing more tears to escape. After that he hit me a few more times and eventually left to go to some bars with his friends, leaving me alone in my apartment to cry.

The next day he apologised and tried his best to reconcile our relationship. Stupidly, I believed him when he blamed it on his alcohol intake and forgave him.

Then it became more of a regular thing, practically becoming every night. He promised me that if I gave him what he wanted then the pain would stop. I was reluctant and refused at first but eventually, on March seventeenth, I gave in and gave him what he wanted.

He lied, he didn't stop hitting me. He didn't stop the pain, he just increased it. He'd beat me every night without fail and threatened that if I left him then he'd tell everybody what a slut I was; he'd show everyone the video of our first time, the video I didn't even know he had until he threatened me with it. He hid a camera inside the nightstand, the lens of it peeking out of the crack in the drawer. He was blackmailing me to stay with him.

I never once enjoyed it and I was too scared to leave him; I knew I should have told someone, I knew I should have just stood up to him but I was too terrified to even breathe too loudly around him. The sad truth was that the main reason I wouldn't leave him was because I loved him.

He made me do it with him four times, he didn't make me do it regularly; instead he told me about all of the other girls he was 'screwing' every night so he didn't need me. He knew that he was torturing me; he knew just how much I loved him and he went out of his way to use it against me. Four times in one month and every single one of those times I felt like my insides were being ripped out. He'd hit me every night and he'd force me to do it. Eventually the love that was once so strong began to die down as the monster became more violent.

One time it was really bad, it was the beginning of April and he'd arrived home from a bar drunk. He'd never been so violent. Usually he was careful about it; he'd only leave his marks where they weren't visible to anyone else so no one could question them and force the truth out of me.

"Hey," I mumbled quietly to him, trying to decipher how drunk he was and whether it was safe for me to be awake. If I pretended to be asleep when he got home he wouldn't hurt me but I wasn't expecting him back so early that night.

"Get in the bedroom and strip. Do it now." He ordered me, slurring his words slightly. I did as I was told to avoid a beating but it wasn't enough. We had intercourse, every second of it I was praying that he'd just get it out and leave but he was taking his time.

After he finished he went to put his belt back on but he couldn't do it properly because he was too drunk. It frustrated him and he took it out on me, whipping me repeatedly with the belt and causing me to cry out in pain. I had angry red marks on my back and legs from where he'd hit me and when he decided that the belt wasn't enough he started to punch me repeatedly, leaving bruises underneath both my eyes and painting my arms in purple and blue splodges.

It was different and it was worse, he'd only ever slapped me before. He had never used any kind of weapon nor had he ever punched me. I knew he was especially angry that night.

It happened for a few weeks and because he was basically traumatising me I started to get sick. I was being sick in the mornings and feeling nauseous throughout the day. I was beginning to feel tired more often as well and I pinned it all onto the emotional pain and stress of what he was doing to me. My period was late which I also put down to the stress of what he was doing because I knew that heavy amounts of stress could cause a delay in periods.

At the end of April he went away for two weeks to visit his family in Hollywood, leaving me in the apartment alone. Safe.

When I still didn't get my period and continued to be sick I worried so I went to the doctors to see what was wrong. He ran a few tests then sat me down in his office kindly, ready to break the news to me.

"Now, Miss Munroe, I have your test results back. When did you say your last period was?" He asked, checking with me again just to be sure.

"It started March third." I informed him shyly. Chad had scarred me; I was terrified of being shut in the doctor's office alone with this guy.

"Well, Miss Munroe, it appears from my test results that you are in fact eight weeks pregnant, congratulations." He told me with a kind smile. I couldn't hold in the tears that freely flowed down my cheeks; I was terrified of what he'd just said. Those words had just flipped my world upside down. I was carrying an abusive man's baby at twenty years old, half way through college.

"…Def-Definitely?" I asked him shakily.

"I'm one hundred percent certain, Miss Munroe. You don't seem to be pleased about this so now I suppose I should discuss your options with you… you have three choices, you can either ke-" He began to explain but I cut him off quickly without thought.

"I'm keeping it. I can't have an abortion and I couldn't hand my baby over to someone else. I'll cope." I told him nervously, eying the door, desperate to leave.

"In that case then you should book an appointment with a midwife to have an ultrasound in around four weeks. It would be beneficial to you to have the father with you there, providing he's still around." He told me kindly. I shook my head quickly, again not even thinking about my decision.

"No. He won't be there and he won't be in the baby's life. I'll take a friend." I told him firmly.

"Okay then, I won't pry. I have the contact number for a single mother's support group, they'll be very welcoming and many of the single parents I have met have found them to be a great help." He told me, writing a number down on a piece of paper and handing it to me.

"Thank you, Doctor. I should leave now." I told him, excusing myself and quickly leaving the office.

I got my head around the idea of being pregnant and decided that when Chad was back I would stand my ground and kick him out regardless of what he threatened me with; I would not allow anyone to hurt my baby.

He returned home on May seventh, three days after I'd been to the doctors.

"Get here." He ordered, the second he opened the door.

"No." I told him firmly.

"Did you just say no to me?" He asked me in shock as he dropped his luggage down on the floor. I nodded firmly and stood up so that I was level with him. "Get in the bedroom, now." He hissed angrily. "I've been away for two weeks and I expect sex with my girlfriend." He told me, annoyance crossed with arrogance lacing his words.

"No, I've packed all of your things and now you're going to get out of my home. I have a copy of that little sex tape you made where you're clearly forcing me into it; I have photos of all of the bruises and marks you've damaged me with. If you don't leave now I will call the police and press charges." I threatened him seriously. He got a terrified look in his eyes before it quickly turned to a sickening look of authority.

"You wouldn't do it before, what's making you do it now? I'll tell you what, Sonny, nothing, because you and I both know that you're not going to do it. We both know that you're so desperately in love with me that you'll do anything to keep me and you'll take any punishment I throw at you." He responded, the palm of his hand colliding with my cheek.

"I had no reason before. I do now, I'm pregnant and I will not allow you to harm my baby." I told him shakily, trying to sound assertive and serious but failing miserably. He got a look of shock and disgust, shaking his head at what I'd just said. "It's yours, before you even dare ask. I'm not a slut; you're the only guy I've ever been with. It's your DNA but you are not its dad, I want you to leave this apartment and the college, I don't ever want to see you again. If I do you will be arrested. I don't want anything from you, I'm going to raise this baby alone and you're not going to be a part of its life. You have ruined my life and I'm not going to allow you to ruin my baby's life as well. Go." I warned him, picking up the phone and dialling nine-one-one, not pressing the call button but just dialling it to show him that I was serious.

"You'll regret this day, Sonny. You love me, you can't live without me. Who's going to love you now? No one else will love you; no one else will want a wannabe virgin that won't put out. No one will ever want anyone as ugly and pathetic as you are." He hissed at me, walking past and through the open door of the bedroom where all of his things were packed into two suitcases. "And now you're tainted with a baby along the way. Who would ever love you?"

"I'm going to love me now, I don't need you. I'm going to love me, my family are going to love me still and my baby is going to love me because I will do everything I can to protect my baby from people like you in his or her life. Leave your key." I growled at him. He didn't respond, he just shoved his key on the table and slammed the front door behind him. I let out a huge sigh of relief at the fact that he was really gone. Finally.

*End Flashback*

After finishing my story I realised that Mitchie and I were both crying. She'd moved during my story to sit next to me and as soon as she realised I was done she wrapped her arms around me in a much needed and loving embrace.

"I love you, Mom." She whispered to me.

"I love you too, Baby, always."