Broken Love Story

by Natasha Madison

  “Are you not going to Mom and Dad’s for Sunday lunch?” he asks me while the kids are eating.

  “I’m not sure,” I say. “It got a little tense the other day, and I don’t want to step on anyone’s toes.”

  “You’re family.” He smiles at me, and I look at him and shock him when I answer.

  “Families take care of each other. Families hold and support each other, not watch one of their own being shoved down and beaten.”

  “Sammie,” he finally says, “I should have …”

  “Yeah, you should have, but you didn’t, so I get it. I’m really not family; I just married into it. My mistake.”

  “Girls, do you want to stay home or go to Grandma and Grandpa’s?”

  Daisy yells that she wants to go, while Lizzie says that she would rather just stay home. I look at her, not sure what is going on.

  “Why don’t you take Daisy?” I tell Elliot. “And Lizzie and I will stay home and relax.”

  He nods at us. “Sure thing. Sugar plum, go get dressed so we can go.”

  I watch Daisy run up the stairs while Lizzie leaves the table to go upstairs to her room. “Dad is going to wonder why you aren’t there.” Elliot looks at me.

  “Okay.” I shrug my shoulders. “Tell him I wasn’t feeling well. Tell him Lizzie didn’t want to go.”

  “Sammie, he was just mad.”

  I slap the table, angry now. “He fucking blamed me for Eric marrying someone else. Like if I would have fucked him seven days a week, it would have stopped him from going out and seeking someone else.”

  “It wasn’t like that.”

  “How?” I throw up my hands. “How wasn’t it like that?”

  He doesn’t have a chance to answer because Daisy comes skipping into the room.

  “Ready freddy,” she says.

  “Give mom a kiss,” Elliot says, and she turns and comes to me, kissing my lips.

  I walk them to the door, then wave at them as I watch them drive away. I close the door and then head upstairs, not expecting what is to come.

  Chapter Eleven

  Samantha

  I knock on the door to Lizzie’s room. Opening it up, I find her sitting on the middle of her bed, closing the book she was reading. “Hey,” I say to her. Walking into the room, I take a seat on her big queen-size bed. The room is straight out of a magazine. She and Judy set out to create her own private oasis.

  The bed sits in the middle of the room with her name painted in the middle of the wall. It took them two days to finally put everything in its place when Adrian went on a business trip. A desk is in the corner with a funky lamp on it, piled with her stuff.

  “You okay?” I ask her, sitting on the bed in front of her. “You are acting awfully weird.”

  She looks down and then back up at me, the tears so big in her eyes they run over. “Baby.” I reach out for her, but she shakes her head.

  “I know, Mom,” she says, and I look at her with my eyebrows pinched together. “Is it true?”

  “Is what true?” I ask her, sitting up straighter as my heart beats faster and faster and faster. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Who is Hailey?” My mouth snaps open as I watch my baby girl sit in the middle of the bed struggling to understand anything in this fucking mess that Eric left behind. “Mom, was Dad married to another person?”

  I reach out for her hand, holding it in mine. “Baby, this is just …”

  “I heard it all,” she says finally. “I heard Uncle Elliot and Uncle Ethan talking in the garage. He married another woman.” Her body not able to contain her sobs. “He didn’t love us anymore.”

  I grab her in my arms as her sobs rip through her, hating him at that moment. I hate him for giving her this burden, I hate him for giving her this pain, I fucking hate him. “He loved you with everything he had. Everything.” I smooth her hair down. “He loved you so much, so, so much; all he did was for you.”

  “So then why would he marry someone else?” It’s the million-dollar question.

  “Honey.” I look in her eyes as tears fall down my face. I want to take away all her pain. “Your father loved you and Daisy with everything he had. Never ever, ever doubt that.” I kiss her cheeks. “We were going through a tough time; it isn’t anyone’s fault. He fell in love with this lady.”

  “How?” she asks. “How do you love so many women you marry them?”

  “I don’t know. I can’t answer that,” I tell her honestly. “I have no idea, not one. The only one who can answer that is Dad.”

  “Would he have tried to take us with him?” she asks with fear. “Would I have had to go?”

  “Honey, all these what-ifs are going to make you sick. The only thing we have to remember is that he loved you so, so much.”

  “I’m angry with him,” she says. “So angry.” She looks down. “I’m also angry with Grandpa A.”

  “Why are you angry with him?”

  “He was mean to you two nights ago and said some mean things. I don’t want to talk to him.”

  “I’m a big girl. You don’t have to be mad at him for me. He loves you.”

  “And I love you,” she says.

  “Now, I want you to promise me that you won’t tell anyone you know. Promise me that if you need to talk, you come to me, and I will answer any questions you have honestly, even if it hurts.”

  “Okay, Mom,” she whispers. “I won’t tell anyone.” The last thing anyone needs to know is that she knows. “Can we go watch a movie?” she asks, and I smile. “Beauty and the Beast.”

  “Cartoon or real?” I ask her, not really caring. I could do both.

  “Real.” She smiles, climbing off her bed. “I’ll start the movie, and you get the doughnuts.”

  I smile at her. “Meet you downstairs in a bit. I have to go to the washroom.” I walk into my room as Lizzie walks downstairs to get the movie ready, waiting till the door closes before letting my sob out. If I didn’t hate him before, I fucking hate him now. Leaving our children with doubts of how much he loved them. He was a selfish, selfish, selfish bastard, and I hope he’s somewhere rotting.

  I wash my face, then head downstairs to Lizzie. We end up watching the real and then the cartoon version when Elliot brings Daisy back.

  Daisy crawls on the couch with me, kissing my cheek and lying down on my lap. “She should pass out soon. I took her to the park.”

  I look down, bending to kiss her nose while she watches the end of Beauty and the Beast. “Did you bring any leftovers?” I ask him, and he looks down and then up again.

  “No, Mom didn’t cook that much.” I just nod my head, knowing full fucking well it’s a lie; my mother-in-law cooks for an army. “She cooked less ’cause Dad is going away for business.”

  “That’s okay,” I tell him, and he stands there awkwardly. I don’t say anything else. Instead, I turn to watch the movie.

  “I’m going to head out,” he says, and I turn, smiling at him.

  “Have a great week,” I tell him as he comes to kiss the kids goodbye.

  I wait for the door to close, then turn to Lizzie. “What do you feel like for dinner?” I ask her as she just looks at me.

  “We can have pancakes”—she smiles—“with chocolate chips.”

  We make pancakes together, side by side, as we dance to songs that Lizzie chooses, and Daisy runs around, dancing on one foot. I put the kids to bed, kissing them and telling them I love them.

  I take a shower, looking at my body in the mirror. I’ve lost a good fifteen pounds; my hipbones are sticking out, and I hate it. I grab my pjs, putting them on, and then going around the house, making sure everything is locked up.

  I get into bed and turn on the television, flipping through the channels. Looking down at my phone next to me, I pick it up and call him.

  He answers after two rings; groggy, his voice is rough. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know you were sleeping. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  “Hey, you,” he
says, and I hear the rustling of his covers in the background. “I got off shift today, and I usually nap, but I guess I was more tired than I thought. How was your day?”

  “Eventful,” I say softly, turning on my side. “Are you sure you don’t want me to call you back?”

  “Nope,” he says. I don’t know why, but I picture him in bed, his black hair sticking up everywhere. “How was it eventful?”

  “Lizzie knows about Hailey,” I say softly, and that wakes him up.

  “What?” he asks with a madness to his voice. “How?”

  “She heard Ethan and Elliot talking in the garage, and well, she had a boatload of questions.”

  “I bet she did. I’m old enough to understand, and I have a shitload of questions.”

  “I had to sit there, holding her and telling her that he loved her more than life while the whole time I cursed him and hoped he was rotting in hell.”

  “I don’t think you are the only one wishing that,” he says, laughing.

  “My in-laws are boycotting me,” I say, and I don’t know why I tell him. “We got into a fight the other night, and well, let’s just say I’m no longer feeling the love,” I say as my thumb rubs the underneath of my eye.

  “What happened?” he asks, and I contemplate telling him the truth.

  “I was pissed that they were going after Hailey’s bank account, and I voiced my opinion. Well, let’s just say if I was a proper wife, he wouldn’t have looked elsewhere.” Just saying it out loud makes me see how stupid it sounds.

  “Who fucking said that?” His voice is loud and almost screaming. “I swear to God.”

  I laugh at him. “It doesn’t matter. I know it’s a crock of shit. What hurt was that no one stuck up for me. No one came to my side; no one told me that it was bullshit. No one took my side; no one held my hand and said he’s crazy.” My voice goes soft.

  “I’m sorry. Where was Elliot or Ethan?” he asks.

  “Sitting at the table,” I tell him. “Was he involved with your family?”

  “Yes,” he says, and I know it hurts him too now. “My grandmother loved him, and my mother considered him another son. When he was in town, we all knew because my mother would have a dinner.”

  “Did he hold her hand?” I think back to when he stopped holding my hand; I think back to when it started to change.

  “Every single chance he got.”

  “Maybe he did love her more than me,” I say, thinking about it. “Maybe she was it for him.”

  “He was a coward. No man would do that to someone they love.”

  “Have you ever been in love?” I ask him, waiting for him to answer.

  “Yes, I have,” he says softly, “and I’ll love her till my last dying breath.”

  “So why don’t you marry her?” I ask him.

  “Because she died and left me when we were twenty.”

  I sit up as his words hit me. “Oh my God, Blake, I’m so, so, so sorry. That was insensitive of me,” I tell him.

  “You didn’t know, so you had no reason, but if she was still here, I like to think we would have been married and had at least a couple of kids by now. Frankie always wanted a big family,” he says, and I can sense a smile fill his face.

  “I’m sure she would,” I say, yawning. “I’m going to get going. I’m sorry I woke you,” I tell him. “Sweet dreams, Blake,” I say, disconnecting. Lost in my own thoughts, I’m jealous of the love he had for her. Jealous that no one ever loved me so fiercely. Not once.

  Chapter Twelve

  Blake

  “Sweet dreams, Blake,” she says softly and then disconnects. I lie here, waiting for I have no idea what. For her to call me back, for her to text me. I get nothing.

  Getting up, I make my way to the kitchen, grabbing some water and then heading back to bed. I fall fast asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow. My dreams don’t bother me tonight, and I wake up right when the sun rises. I grab my bag and make my way to the gym. I do mostly cardio since we have weights at the fire station. When I finally walk out of the gym, it’s almost nine o’clock, so I send Samantha a text.

  Hope you are having a better day.

  When she told me about her in-laws last night, I wanted to get in my car and drive over there and beat the shit out of every single one of them. Who doesn’t hold their family up? Who doesn’t fucking support and care for the mother of your grandchildren?

  A text message comes in, and my phone pings

  Fingers crossed, hoping that you have the best day!

  I smile and then pull up in front of Hailey’s house. Walking in, I see Hailey sitting in the middle of shattered glass with roses all over the floor. The card right in front of my foot shows me that they are from Eric.

  I grab the broom, sweeping up the majority of the mess while I watch my sister in the chair, crying. I wonder what would happen if this was Samantha. I wonder who would hold her, who would be there for her. The answer is no one. How sad is that?

  So lost in my own thoughts, I don’t hear the door open nor do I see Nanny come in and take a look around. She says nothing when she sees the garbage with the roses in it. Instead, she shows Hailey a picture of a house on the beach. She goes on and on about her friend Delores who has a house for rent, and how this is what Hailey needs.

  “She just can’t leave,” I say as Nanny looks over at me.

  “And why not?” I try to answer, but Nanny doesn’t even give me a chance to. “She has nothing here. Nothing. Yes, she has her family, but she needs to find herself. Staying here in this museum she calls a home isn’t helping anyone. Besides, she works from home. All she needs is her computer, and she is good to go.”

  “Yes.” The sound comes out in a soft whisper. “Yes.” Hailey looks up as Nanny smiles, and I scratch my head. How in the hell is her moving away from her family a good thing? I try to make eye contact with Hailey, but she is too fixated on the picture of that house.

  “I want to have a yard sale.” Hailey looks at me. “I want to sell everything. I want nothing.” I look around her house, seeing all the touches of Eric, and know this purge will be painful for her, but hopefully, it helps her heal.

  “I’ll make the posters today.” Nanny gets up and walks to the door. “I guess this is like that song ‘Cleaning out the Closet.’ Remember, Blake? You used to sing it each day in the mirror, wearing your white t-shirt and your jeans hanging low under your ass.” She laughs. “Until I told you that inmates wear their pants like that to have …” She cups her mouth with her hands and whispers, “Butt sex.”

  Hailey snorts as I throw my head back. “Oh, good God,” I groan as Nanny walks out of the door. I look at my sister. “You sure you want to go there all by yourself?”

  She doesn’t get a chance to answer because Crystal walks in. “Hey, you guys,” she says, tossing her purse on the couch and coming in to start the coffee. “Whatcha looking at?” she asks as she picks up a picture of the house. “This is so pretty.”

  I fill her in. “That is where Hailey is going to, as Nanny says, ‘find herself.’” I use my fingers to make air quotes.

  Crystal and I look at each other while I open the fridge and take out the ingredients to make breakfast. Hailey starts making a list of what needs to be done. I don’t say much except when she asks for a real estate agent, I pick up the phone and call Sophie.

  Sophie and I went to school together, and she promised to come by this afternoon to see her.

  I walk out of the house and climb into my truck. The phone rings, and I don’t know why, but my heart speeds up just a bit when I see her name.

  “Did he cook dinner?” she asks when I answer. Her voice is different, not sad but as if she is asking whether you want fries or a salad.

  “Umm, it would depend, but usually yes.”

  “Asshole,” she says, and I laugh. “He never fucking cooked.”

  “Can I ask what brought this on?” I pull into my driveway.

  “I hate deciding what to cook for dinner
. It just feels like it’s always the same thing.”

  “Tacos,” I tell her, and she gasps.

  “On a Monday?” She laughs. “Living on the edge.”

  “That’s me, the badass.” I laugh, getting out of the truck.

  “Were you in the car?” she asks as I hear pots banging in the background.

  “Yeah, I just got home. Hailey is leaving,” I say, sitting on the couch now while I talk to her.

  “What?” she asks softly. “Why?”

  “According to Nanny, she needs to find herself and doing it moping in the house and getting drunk isn’t it.”

  “She gets drunk?” she asks softly, and I hear sniffling. “Is she okay?”

  “No,” I answer honestly. “Not even close, but I’m really hoping that she will be.”

  “Where is she going?” she asks me, her voice picking up just a bit.

  “Some house on the beach. We are selling everything,” I tell her. “Cleaning out the closet.”

  “I wish I could do that,” she says. “I have all his clothes still hanging in the closet, and I don’t even bother opening it anymore.”

  “When it’s time, you will,” I tell her.

  “Did you live with Frankie before she died?” she asks me.

  “No, we were planning to, but she fell sick right before we could,” I say softly, remembering. “Our goal was to move out the minute we both could afford the down payment. I had just joined the academy, and she was starting her nursing program.”

  “How long were you two together?” she asks with a laugh.

  “Five years,” I say. “We met our first day of high school.”

  “First love,” she says, and I quickly correct her. “Only love.”

  “I have to go get the kids,” she says, and we both say bye and disconnect.

  I get up, making my way to the kitchen, not hungry anymore. I lie on the couch and flip on the television. Finally deciding on a movie, I let my mind spin while it plays. I keep thinking about the questions she asks; I keep thinking of the doubt she must be going through.