Broken Love Story

by Madison, Natasha

  “Hailey’s,” he says. “I’m almost there. I left right after shift.”

  “Are you excited?” I ask him, and he says yes. We talk for a bit more until he arrives.

  I hang up the phone, and the doorbell rings. I walk to the door and open it. A man stands before me with a clipboard in one hand. “Samantha Schneider,” he says, looking at the paper and then up at me again.

  “Yes,” I say with one hand holding the door. His hand reaches out with papers folded in his hand. My hand reaches out to get them.

  “You’ve been served,” he says and turns and walks away. I close the door as my hands shake, holding the letter.

  I turn it over in my hand, unfolding the pages, and I don’t even realize I’ve hit the floor when I do.

  I see nothing except the names at the top corner of the plaintiffs—Judy and Adrian Schneider—and then my name under the defendant. And what I see under that stops my blood cold.

  They are suing me for custody of the girls, deeming me unfit and alienating their affection.

  The sob rips through me, and my hand moves to my chest. I run to grab my phone and call Elliot first, and he doesn’t answer. “Please call me back,” I say between sobs. “Please.”

  I then call Judy, and I’m sent straight to voicemail. “Judy, you need to call me back,” I whisper as I sob.

  I don’t know what to do. I don’t know who to call, so I call the only lawyer I know. When the secretary answers, I ask to speak to Mr. Feldman. I’m transferred right away, and he picks up. “Mr. Feldman, this is Samantha Schneider. I’m calling because I got served papers today from my in-laws.”

  “I’m aware,” he says, not shocked at all. “I suggest you get yourself a lawyer.” He then hangs up on me.

  I look up in shock at the phone. What the hell am I going to do? I sit here, and for the first time in my life, I regret the day I fucking met Eric.

  Opening the computer, I google family lawyers in the area. I call the first one my eyes land on and make an appointment for the next day. The whole day is spent with me reading and rereading the papers I was served. I hide them away before I get the girls and try to act as normally as I can. My phone beeps, showing me Elliot responded to my text.

  I’m sorry.

  It’s the only thing he says, two words. He didn’t even have the fucking balls to pick up the phone and call me. That night, I make the girls sleep with me, hugging both of them while they sleep, and I cry silently, kissing their heads.

  I ignore the call from Blake and the texts. He has enough going on right now. The next day when I walk into the lawyer’s office, he reads the paper and looks up at me. “It is very rare that the grandparents are awarded custody when one of the parents is still alive.”

  I fill him in on the whole double life that Eric led. He tells me what I don’t really want to hear. “You need to find a character witness who can confirm all this,” he tells me, and my shoulders slump. I leave the lawyer’s office with a list of things I need to do and papers that need to be filled out. When the girls come home, I again try to pretend everything is normal, but Lizzie senses something.

  I let them sleep in their own bed that night and then pick up the phone and dial the one person I know who can help me—Blake.

  He answers after two rings, a little breathless. “Hey,” he says, and I lose whatever I was holding in me, letting go of everything.

  “Samantha,” he says, “breathe for me, baby, just breathe.”

  I listen to his words as I try not to hyperventilate. “I need your help,” I tell him quietly.

  “Anything,” he answers without hesitation.

  “I need you to be a character witness,” I tell him and wait for the next question I know is coming.

  “For what?” he asks, and I say the words I dreaded all day long.

  “My in-laws are suing me for custody of the girls,” I say quietly and then cry. “They are going to take my babies away from me.” He doesn’t say anything else.

  “I’m on my way,” he says and disconnects, and I don’t know why, but I suddenly feel like everything is going to be okay.

  Chapter Twenty

  Blake

  One minute, I’m having pizza, and the next, I’m rushing back to my truck, kissing Hailey goodbye, and hightailing it to Samantha’s house.

  I had no idea that when I pulled up to Hailey’s cottage on the beach, I would find such a different person. She was not even the old Hailey; she was a better Hailey. I thought I would have to snap her out of it, but she smiled and laughed and looked in love. Then I found out why when a soft knock came, and I found her in Jensen’s arms.

  I hated being the one to break her out of that when I gave her the letter. Actually, she didn’t even fucking take the letter; she just left. Lucky for me, Jensen came and made her okay, brought her back to center. She took the letter to her room and then told me we were eating pizza for dinner.

  I sat at the table with Hailey and Jensen, who showed up with his adorable daughter. Not only did my sister fall in love with Jensen, but she was also head over heels for Mila.

  Crystal was also doing well and came in with Jensen’s cousin, Gabe, who was also her boss. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but there was more to that story, and I made a note to ask her about it when we got home.

  Then my phone rang, and I went outside to take it. I had been calling Samantha for two days now with no answer, but her voice was unrecognizable. The hairs on my neck stood up right away. Then she asked me to be a character witness, and my mind was going around and around.

  “My in-laws are suing me for custody of the girls,” she said so quietly I was afraid I misunderstood her. “They are going to take my babies away from me.” My blood ran cold and only one thing went through my mind was over my dead fucking body would someone take the girls away from her.

  “I’m on my way,” I say, disconnecting then telling Hailey there was an emergency. I didn’t mention anything because I didn’t have time to tell her about Samantha. I wasn’t sure I wanted to share her yet.

  I got in my car, thankful she is halfway between Hailey’s home and my home. I pull up in her driveway around eleven. I don’t even have to call her because she’s standing at the door. Leaning against it, she watches as I put the truck in park, get out, and walk up the stairs to her. Taking her in my arms right away, I hold her while she cries. Quietly, I pick her up around her waist and bring her inside the house. “It’s going to be okay,” I tell her while I hold her. “Let me see what they sent you,” I ask her, and she disengages herself from my arms and takes my hands to lead me up the stairs to her bedroom, then locks the door after I step inside. She goes to the dresser where she opens the drawer and takes out the paper.

  She comes to me, and I sit on the edge of the bed as I read the papers. Those motherfuckers are really fucking suing her. “What did your lawyer say?” I ask, and the only thing that pops in my head is that I don’t trust him. I don’t trust anyone, but the one man I know would have my back, no questions asked. She sits next to me sideways, her legs crossed and leaning on mine.

  “He said it’s rare that grandparents are awarded custody if one of the parents is still alive.” She swallows and looks at me; her beautiful face in so much pain, her brown eyes filled with tears, “I can’t lose them.” She shakes her head. “I won’t.”

  My hand cups her face, my thumb catching a tear that runs down her face. “You won’t lose them.” I swallow and look down and then up again. “I need to tell you something.”

  She looks at me, hanging onto my every word, trusting me so fucking completely. “My father is the best family lawyer …” She shakes her head.

  Getting off the bed, she says, “I can’t do that,” as she paces in front of me. “I can’t ask him that.” I reach out my hand and stop her, bringing her to me. She stands between my open legs, her hands resting on my shoulders. “I won’t do that to him or to Hailey.”

  “You need the best,” I tell her. “That
’s him.”

  “I don’t know, Blake,” she says softly. “It’s already weird that we are talking, and all this,” she says, looking down and then back up, our eyes meeting. “How did this happen?” she asks, and I don’t know what she’s asking.

  It’s a loaded question. My hands go to her hips. “Someone told me once that everything happens for a reason.” I smile as she finally smiles just a bit. “Maybe it was fate.”

  She shrugs. “Do you think he would listen to my case?” she asks me.

  “I think there is no reason we can’t ask him,” I tell her, and I notice not for the first time today it’s a we—not a you, not a me, an us. “After you put the kids on the bus tomorrow, we can drive down and see my father.”

  “I want to change one of my answers,” she tells me. “One thing I would change is Eric being the father of my girls,” she says, closing her eyes and shaking her head. The need to bring her on my lap is so strong my heart aches, and the need to put my hand on her face and drag her lips to mine makes my hands heavy, so heavy. Her eyes open, and I’m stuck here, my body almost as if made of stone.

  I can’t move, and I can’t breathe; the only thing I can do is blink my eyes and take her in. The woman who was the cause of Hailey’s hurt, the woman whose house we came to and demanded answers. The woman who slowly, ever so fucking slowly, got stronger and stronger, and even more gradually has made a home in my broken heart.

  “I thought of taking the girls and moving,” she says softly. “Get away from here. Somewhere no one knows us. Somewhere I don’t feel out of place walking into a grocery store.”

  “What do you mean?” I ask her.

  She looks down and then up again. “My in-laws know everyone, and ever since they stopped talking to me, it’s just been weird. I’m afraid to meet them in public, so I don’t make eye contact with anyone, and I have everything delivered just so I don’t cross paths with them or anyone they know.”

  “You never told me that,” I say and think about this house. No wonder she is changing everything; it’s her fucking prison.

  “I didn’t want to talk about it,” she says, “but, yeah.”

  “Let’s tackle one thing at a time. Let’s get your girls safe, and then we’ll work on getting you out of here.”

  “You really think everything is going to be okay?” she asks me.

  “No, I don’t think; I know.” I look at her and see the tiredness fall through her. “Why don’t you go to sleep? I’ll go sleep on the couch and leave before the kids get up, and we’ll go see Dad after.”

  “You can just lie here; the door is locked, and if the girls wake, you can hide.” She smiles and goes to her side of the bed. I look over my shoulder at her. “I got a new mattress,” she whispers. “It’s Eric free.” I shake my head and laugh. I lie on the top of the covers while she gets under. She is softly snoring even before I get comfortable, and I lie awake for a long, long time as so many things race through my head, so many things that I need to say, so many things I need to finally come to peace with.

  “Wake up, sunshine.” I hear her voice, but I swear I think I’m dreaming. I open my eyes and see her on the bed on her knees. “The kids just got on the bus.”

  “I must have slept through it,” I say, blinking as she turns to hand me a cup of coffee.

  “I told them I just washed the carpet in the room and not to go in.” She smiles. “I guess they bought it.”

  I smile, taking a sip of the hot coffee. “Carpet cleaning?”

  She throws her head back and laughs. “Lame, right?”

  She gets up, and I see she’s already dressed. “Are you ready?” I ask her, and she nods. I get up, going to the bathroom, and then come out. “Let’s go,” I say, happy to get this all over with.

  “Bring everything, even the picture of Hailey and him and his letter.” She nods and grabs the letter and the picture. She looks down when we walk out of the house to my truck almost as if she’s hiding herself. I fucking hate this; she should be walking proud, walking with her head held high.

  The drive is quiet, and when we stop for gas, I call my father.

  “Hello?” He answers on the second ring.

  “Hey, Dad, are you at the office?” I ask him. Usually, he is there, but sometimes he works from home.

  “I am. What’s up?” he asks.

  “I need your help,” I tell him. “I’ll be there in about an hour. Will you have time for me?”

  “Yes,” he says and doesn’t bother asking questions. I disconnect when she walks out of the gas station with two waters in her hand. Her walk now is more sure, more comfortable than when she walked out of her house.

  When we pull up to my father’s office, I shut off the truck. I look over and see her hands shaking. “It’s going to be okay.” I grab one, and she just shakes her head and swallows. We walk in, and I smile at Beatrice.

  “Look at this handsome fellow,” she says, smiling at me. “Oh, and you brought a lady friend.” I laugh; they are so old school.

  “Hey, my dad is expecting me,” I tell her and then look over at Samantha. “You ready?” I ask.

  “No,” she says, “I think I’m going to be sick.” I can see she is shaking.

  “Let’s go.” I grab her hand and walk to the back where his office is. I knock on the door, and he yells for me to come in.

  I turn the handle and open the door, seeing him sitting behind his big oak desk with pictures of us all around the room. He takes his glasses off and stands up when he sees me with Samantha.

  His eyes go to me and then her; the silent questions are about a mile a minute, and I give him a nod, telling him we will talk.

  “Dad,” I say when he looks at me again. “This is Samantha, a friend of mine.”

  He extends his hand to shake hers with a smile, walking around the desk. “Nice to meet you, Samantha,” he says, and she smiles at him. “Please, come sit.” He points at the sitting area away from his desk in the corner. Samantha sits on the loveseat, and I sit next to her. My father sits in the single chair. Looking at us, he asks, “What can I do to help?” I hand him the paper from the lawyer. He opens the letter, reading just the first couple of lines, and his eyes snap up.

  “Dad, this is Samantha Schneider,” I say, and his mouth opens.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Samantha

  I know right away when his head snaps up that he knows who I am. I sit next to Blake, trying to bask in his warmth, and I end up shaking.

  “Dad, this is Samantha Schneider,” he says, grabbing my little hand in his, and his father’s mouth opens and closes.

  “Blake,” he says, turning to look at him.

  “I know what you’re thinking, Dad,” he says, “but she needed the best, and you’re the best.”

  He puts the papers down and then gets up and goes to his phone. “Beatrice, call Joanne and tell her to come in please.”

  Then he looks at me. “I’m sorry, but I can’t keep this from my wife.” And I smile and look at Blake, knowing right away that is where he got it from.

  “I don’t mind,” I tell him and then look at Blake. “Killing two birds with one stone, right?” I push his shoulder, and he looks down and smiles.

  “Would you like something to drink while we wait?” he asks while he looks at me. This man, whose daughter was broken and treated so unfairly by Eric’s family, who were mine, is standing there offering me something to drink instead of telling me to take my things and fuck off. I shake my head. “Before your mother gets here, can you answer a couple of questions?” he asks me and Blake.

  “What in the ever-loving fuck is going on?” He sits down, crossing his legs. “Blake?”

  I laugh at him; such a gentleman and he throws out the F bomb. “I went to visit her with Crystal right before Hailey decided to leave. Then I called and checked on her, and we’ve been friends ever since.” I know it shouldn’t bother me that he said we’ve been friends, but my stomach burns. I smile at him and then look dow
n, trying to hide my eyes. I hear women’s voices and then the door opens and a beautiful woman walks in. Henry gets up to greet his wife who looks like she sped here.

  “I got here as soon as I could,” she says breathlessly to her husband and then turns to look at us, her eyes taking in that Blake still has my hand in his. “Blake,” she says and then looks at me. I get up, putting out my hand.

  “Mrs. Williams, my name is Samantha.” She smiles as she takes my hand.

  “Samantha, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” she says, and Henry finally tells her to sit down.

  “So what is this meeting about?” she says as she sits in the chair where Henry was sitting. He now sits on the arm of the chair.

  I look at Blake, and then I look at Henry. Both of them are unsure of how to start things, so I do what I need to do. I take a deep breath and squeeze Blake’s hand.

  “My name is Samantha Schneider,” I say, and her eyes suddenly go big. “I was married to Eric,” I start, and the tears spill over. “We have two girls. Two beautiful girls, beautiful girls,” I say, and the tears don’t stop, no matter how many times I blink them away. “I was a ward of the state and have no family. None. I was a crack baby,” I tell them, and Blake lets my hand go. I look at him, expecting to see his judgment, but instead, he puts his arm around my shoulder, bringing me closer to him and kissing my forehead. I know I have to continue. “When I was nineteen, I met Eric and fell in love with him. His family became my family. They welcomed me with open arms.” My hands now come together as I get nervous. “They were the family I always dreamed of. I finally had a mother and father who loved me, and two brothers who would do anything for me. A husband who gave me a family,” I say, smiling through the tears. “But then he died, and his box of secrets came out. I didn’t want to sit at the table while they put him on a throne.”

  I look down while I continue, “I couldn’t do it, and then it was like I was shunned. They stopped calling, they stopped coming by”—I look up—“and suddenly, I was back to being alone, but this time, I had my girls.” Blake’s mother has tears running down her face as I’m talking, Henry’s hand is holding her shoulder. “They didn’t like the changes I was making. I repainted the house, and I was moving on. To them, I was trying to erase Eric from the home we shared.” I reach forward and grab a Kleenex from the table. “How can I erase him from our lives when my girls have his eyes?” I say on a sob. “How can I erase him from my life when every single time I turn around, his memory is there?”