"Hey, my love." Brad said as I opened my van door at home.
I glanced over at him as I climbed out.
Brad came down the front steps to greet me, as he started since they took our children. I couldn't figure out why he started. I figured that maybe it was his need to help him get through. After all, he was home alone for eight hours as I went off to work.
"How was your day? Did you get to see Heather?" He asked anxiously.
I sighed. I let my bottom lip push into my upper lip as I pouted and debated on crying or not. "No!" My tone was angry and hurt.
"Aw, baby." Brad grew sad. "I'm sorry you didn't get to see her." He approached me and placed his hands on my shoulders. "You'll get to see her tomorrow."
"No I won't." I pouted. "You know as well as I that Deborah's a bitch! She would do anything to hurt me."
Brad let my shoulders go with a sigh. "How do you know? Maybe Heather wasn't feeling well. You know she wasn't feeling well went they took her."
My turn to sigh. I shook my head and stared at the ground. I decided not to waste my breath trying to explain to him the inner workings of Deborah's mind. "I spoke to Jason today." I started.
"Oh, that's good! What did he say? Can we see the kids?" Brad's tone was soft and gentle. It pissed me off that he could be so patient during this time. How could he be so careless? Doesn't he care about the kids?
I shook my head. "I don't know. I text him earlier. We meet with him at two tomorrow at the band office. I asked him if we could see the kids and he didn't answer." My body heaved.
Brad put his hands on me again. "We will get to see them. They can't keep us away from them." He tried to reassure me.
I scoffed at him. "You really don't realize the amount of power they have, do you?" I was disgusted by his niavity. I refused to believe that I was the only one who seen things for what they were. But everyone else believed me to be crazy. Always over-analytical and suspicious. Quick to find some kind of conspiracy.
I had no idea why anyone would conspire against me. I couldn't possibly be so goddamned important that people, in general, would conspire to hurt me. But somehow, they did. MCFD and Deborah did conspire to take my children. I didn't understand why or how MCFD could be so easily manipulated to believe the worst. I dragged myself and my children out of Hell to get to where we were. I sighed. Maybe I didn't.
I looked at Brad and pondered. Can I really blame him for this? Is this really his fault? Or am I so self-indulgent that I can't see it was really MY fault? Deborah was right. I am selfish. I gave in to my emotions and sobbed.
Brad swept me into his arms and breathed heavily in my ear. "We WILL get them back, Sam. I know it." He attempted to reassure me again.
My body cringed in his arms. I made sure not to let him feel it though. I wanted to blame him. To accuse him of everything that went wrong. I hated him. The very smell of him made me nauseous. I scrunched my face and succumbed to his warmth. I buried my face into his chest and cried. My hands clenched around his shirt as I pulled it in to me.
"My love." Brad exhaled.
I wanted to hit him. To kick him and push his face into the gravel of my driveway. I wanted to scream at him that I hated him. To tell him it was his fault. I can't do that. I told myself. I had to think about the situation again. I couldn't blame Brad unless all evidence says I can. Piece the puzzle together slowly and see where it all points to. Who can I blame and how can I knock their asses down for this travesty? It was that moment I swore to myself that I would find the bitches who did this and I would find a way to hold them accountable. Even if it was Brad.
