A few minutes after Liam took off, I politely asked William to leave, but I made him write down his phone number first.
He left the suitcase full of gifts on the table and he actually did leave.
After he left, I called Noah and told him it was complicated, that Liam left. He offered to bring the kids home and I accepted, and now all three kids are home, bathed, and asleep in their bedrooms.
I'm still sitting at the kitchen table, well past one in the morning, waiting for him to arrive.
I texted him and told him that I loved him, but I haven't heard from him since.
I get it. He needs some space. When I needed space, he gave me space when nobody else would, so I'm not going to keep badgering him, even though inside my heart is pounding and I'm terrified.
I get up from the table to pour myself a glass of water. I sit back down, staring at the letter.
I never opened it. It wasn't mine to read, so I didn't open it.
I sigh quietly, worried about Liam.
Where is he? Is he okay? Is he safe? If he was with one of our friends or relatives, they would tell me. Why hasn't he called? Is he hurt? Is he in danger?
I bury my face in my hands, my heart aching.
My phone vibrates with a text and I look down at it.
Noah: I know it's late but is he home yet? He's my brother you know? Kinda concerned
Me: he's not home.
Noah: did you call him
Me: no. if he's ready to talk he will call
Noah: okay. Just lmk if you need anything
Me: I will thanks
I sit my phone on the table and press my palms into my eyes, my heart heavy.
"Momma?"
I look up in surprise. Theo stands by the kitchen counter with his teddy bear in his hand.
"Hey Peanut," I stand up. "What are you doing up?"
He looks down at the ground and starts crying.
"Hey," I say softly. I bend down and pick him up. He buries his head in my shoulder and cries softy.
I sit down at the table and rub his back gently.
"What's the matter baby?" I ask him softly. "Why are you crying?"
He pulls away, sniffling. He reaches up and wipes his eyes.
"Momma, why isn't Daddy home?" he whispers. "Are you and Daddy breaking up? Daddy wasn't home to tuck me in. Did you make me go to Uncle Noah and Aunt Aria's so you could talk to Daddy? Where is he Momma? Do you still love each other?"
My heart breaks.
"Oh Peanut," I murmur. "Mommy and Daddy love each other very much, I promise. Daddy is just out doing some adult stuff, but he's going to come home soon."
"But you guys aren't going to break up, right?" he mumbles.
"Of course not, sweetie, of course not. Me and Daddy love each other so, so much. We could never break up."
"I don't want to go to sleep until Daddy gets home," he tells me.
"Oh Peanut, it's very late. I think you should go to sleep."
"I just want to stay up until Daddy gets home," he sniffles.
Now, I could put him to bed again, but he is his father's son. He's not going to sleep just because he's in bed. He will stay up if he wants to.
"Okay," I whisper. "You can sit with Momma."
"Okay."
He puts his head on my shoulder. I rub his back gently, checking my phone again.
After about twenty minutes, I feel his breathing slow and I know he's asleep in my arms.
I don't bring him upstairs though, because a chance to hold Theo without him trying to go play two seconds later is rare. I keep rubbing his back, my ears perking up when I hear a car door shut.
A couple of minutes later, I hear a set of keys in the front door, and then it opens. It closes after a few seconds, and I hear the code being punched into the alarm, setting it for the night.
A moment later, Liam walks into the kitchen.
He grabs a water bottle from the fridge and leans against the kitchen counter, looking over at me.
"Why isn't he in bed?" he asks quietly.
"He wanted to wait for you to get home," I whisper.
I carefully stand up.
My movement causes Theo to shift his head on my shoulder and lift up his head, looking around groggily.
"Is Daddy home?" he whispers.
"Daddy's right here, Peanut."
Liam takes a sip of his water and sets the bottle on the counter, reaching out for Theo.
He takes him from my hands.
"Where did you go Daddy?" Theo mumbles.
"I went on a drive." Liam says softly. "You should be in bed, little bear. It's late."
"I wanted to make sure you were okay," he says.
"I'm okay," Liam forces a smile and heads for the staircase, grabbing Theo's teddy bear off the table before he walks out.
After almost fifteen minutes, he comes back without Theo, in a pair of sweatpants and no shirt.
He grabs his water from the counter and sits down beside me at the table, putting his chin in his right hand and his elbow on the table.
After a couple minutes, he takes a sip of his water and sighs.
"What time did he leave?" he asks me.
"A few minutes after you did. He probably would have stayed all night, but I told him you needed time."
He nods slowly and plucks the letter off the table.
"Did you read this?" he asks me.
When I shake my head, he unfolds it and clears his throat.
"Dear Liam," he begins, glancing at me. "By the time you read this, you'll have heard your father tell you how much he loves you and how hard he tried for you. The chance that you believe him is small, but I'm writing you to let you know that it's all true. He wrote letters, sent gifts, and called all the time. He tried to get legal custody, but Andrew threatened to kill you if he did. I'm sorry. Love Amelia." He looks so hurt and I reach my hand out for his. "P.S," he continues. "If you could go to University of California in Berkley and check on Lindsay, that would be great. When she found out what I did, she stopped calling. She could be dead for all I know. Thanks."
He sets the letter down, running his fingers through his hair.
"I mean," he rubs his face with his hands. "My entire life is a lie. I grew up thinking I had a father who didn't care about me. He could have gotten me out. He tried to get me out. I can't even imagine how afraid he must have been. Can you imagine that being one of our kids? Getting a picture of them after they're choked? Being told you're not allowed to fight for custody because they would kill our kid? Can you believe that? And then how do I have a relationship with him? I don't know anything about him. He was there for everything, Sav. He was there for all of it, and I spent, I spent eighteen years of my life, eighteen years thinking he hated me, just to find out my psychotic mother hid him from me! And Lindsay, what about her? Is she okay? She's in college, but she hasn't spoken to Mom. You and I know from experience if we don't do what Mom wants, we don't get to go to school! Does she have insurance? Does she have a car? Is she working? How is she paying for school? What does she eat? And the other two, the siblings I don't know about...what about them? And then my Dad and his wife and kids. I mean, he walked in here and he, he threw a fricken tornado at me! And, and I want to get mad at him for disrupting everything, but it's not his fault! This is all Mom's fault. This is all her fault!"
He reaches up to rub his eyes.
"He was there, Savannah," he looks at me with pure...pure agony on his face. "I had a father all this time and she kept him a secret. She let me stay fucked up."
He hides his face with his hands and I move closer to him.
"What do I do?" he whispers, sniffling. I put my hand on his bare back. He pulls his hands away to look at me. "What do I do?" he asks me with tears in his eyes. "I need you to tell me what to do."
I wipe a tear off of his cheek, take a deep breath, and take a page from his own book.
"I want you to go upstairs," I murmur. "And take a shower, and wash away the horrible eighteen years. Get some water, make the bedroom dark, and close your eyes. Feel your heart. Notice the silence. It's still beating. You're still fighting. You've made it this far. You can make it one more night."
Tears slide down his cheeks and I feel my eyes welling up.
"All you can do is take it one day at a time," I whisper sadly, wiping at my eyes. "It's going to get easier as the days go on. Everything will be alright. I don't know what you're going through, but what I do know is that it's going to be okay." I squeeze his hands in mine.
He rests his head against my shoulder. I rub his back with one hand and brush my fingers through his hair with the other one.
We sit there like that until my right arm is asleep from the weight of his head on my shoulder.
He lifts his head up then.
"Come to bed with me," he mumbles, standing up.
"Okay."
He shuts the suitcase and carries it to the garage, and then he goes upstairs with me.
_________
This chapter hurt to write
~Sam