Broken Love Story Read online

  My hands trace the letters on the tombstone. “Miss you, baby,” I say. When I feel a soft breeze go by, it’s almost as if she answered me today. “So much,” I say, the tears coming no matter how much I fight them. No matter how much time goes by, the tears always come. I stay here for twenty minutes, lying down in front of her plaque with my head resting on my arm. Leaning forward, I kiss her name. “See you next week,” I tell her, getting up and walking back to the truck. Making my way back to my sister’s house, I hope someone is going to be able to give her the strength she needs to go on.

  The drive back to Hailey’s house is quiet as night falls. The stars are coming out; some are blinking, some just lighting the sky. My mother and father are in the kitchen, and my mother is cooking.

  “You think she’s going to eat any of that?” I ask them. Heading for the bottle of whiskey still on the counter, I pour one shot after another. The numbness never comes, so I sit down and look at my father, who shoots his eyebrows up at me in question. “Don’t.”

  “We have to eat and keep up our strength for your sister,” my mother says.

  I hear squeaking on the stairs and know that’s either Crystal or my sister. “She’s up,” Crystal says. Walking into the kitchen, she grabs the bottle of empty whiskey. “You couldn’t even save me a shot?” I don’t answer but look up at her. We both look at the hallway when more creaking sounds. Hailey comes into the kitchen with her hair tied on top of her head, wearing Eric’s robe. Her eyes are swollen from the tears she has shed all day.

  “Hey.” Crystal walks to her, whispering, “You hungry?” Hailey looks around the room at the table that my parents set, then spots the brown paper bag on the counter. She turns on her feet, going straight to the brown bag. My eyes find Crystal, and we both take a big inhale.

  The sound of the crinkling bag fills the silence of the room as the four of us stand, waiting for her to fall. Waiting to catch her.

  Opening the bag, she takes out his watch first, and looking at it causes the sobs to rip out of her. She brings the watch to her nose to smell it, her other hand gripping the counter for support. I step forward but stop when she sets it down. I don’t see what she brings out next because the tears block my vision.

  “This isn’t his.” She turns to us, showing us a black iPhone. “His phone was white.”

  Crystal walks over to her, this time to help her stand. “Maybe it was put in there by mistake. Here, let me plug it in, and we can see who the phone belongs to.” She grabs it from her and walks over to the wall charger, plugging it in.

  Hailey finally finds his phone. Running her fingers over it, she closes her eyes as tears drip off her chin, almost as if you left the faucets running. “We took this picture last week after he got home. He was gone for a month this time. It was the longest he was ever away.” She looks up at us, the hollowness almost too much to bear. “How did this happen?” She looks at each of us separately as she waits for an answer. My mom and I are brushing our own tears off our face when the buzzing on the counter starts.

  Hailey walks over to the phone and picks it up. Her face goes white, whiter than it was, her lips almost turning an ash. Her hands start shaking, shaking so much the phone slips out of her hand and lands right in front of her feet, the screen shattering. Little did we know that shatter would change the path of everyone’s life.

  Chapter Three

  Samantha

  “Let’s go, guys, or we are going to miss the bus!” I yell up the stairs toward my girls, Liz, who is eight, and Daisy, who is five.

  “The bus is going to be here in two minutes!” I yell again, walking back to the kitchen and picking up my now cold cup of coffee.

  I pick up my phone to check for any missed calls or messages, and the only thing that greets me is the picture we took two months ago. Our four happy smiling faces when Eric and I had just found out we were expecting baby number three.

  While I sat on the toilet in our bathroom, a whole mix of emotions coursed through me. I always wanted a big family. Doesn’t everyone who is born in the system wish for everything they didn’t have?

  I never had a mother; I never had a father. I never had siblings; I never got into a fight with my sister because she borrowed my clothes and didn’t tell me or vice versa. My parents were out there somewhere, or maybe they weren’t. I had no idea.

  My mother was a crack addict. I know that for sure because I was born a crack baby, which is the reason I didn’t get adopted right away. No one wanted the burden of the extra care; no one wanted to be the parents to “that baby.”

  So although I grew up and the crack left my system, I was never adopted.

  Foster parents weren’t willing to take me either. Nope, I was the lucky one who was always in the group home for unwanted kids. I kept my head down, and my mind on the prize. The prize that when I turned eighteen, I would leave that roach-infested home and be able to create my own perfect life.

  The day I turned sixteen, I got a job at the local diner. I busted my fucking ass to work and maintain a GPA of three point five. When college came around, I knew that if I didn’t qualify for assistance, I would never be able to attend. With rent and all that, I knew I couldn’t do it. That was the first time in my life I regretted ever being born. Although my GPA was high enough to be accepted, the fact that I had no money coming in meant that the loan was denied. So after sobbing into my pillow for a straight six hours while I asked God why he hated me so much, I got my journal out and made a plan. I would graduate; it would just take me a long fucking time. I would take two courses a semester, and eventually, I would graduate and become a social worker.

  Strange, I know, but I wanted to be “the social worker” to make miracles happen, especially for girls and boys like me who got left behind. Kids were not just a case number but actual people.

  My first apartment had more roaches than the foster home. Fuck, I remember sleeping with a hat on just so they wouldn’t crawl into my ears. But the first of my luck changed when a new co-worker started. She had just moved into town and was looking for a roommate. Same rent as what I paid now, but the utilities were going to be shared, so I jumped on it. My life was just starting to pan out when I walked to a table late Saturday night, early Sunday morning.

  “What can I get you?” I asked the blond boy sitting there opening five or six books.

  He didn’t look up. “Coffee, just lots and lots of coffee.” When he finally looked up, my stomach went into a loop. He had the clearest blue eyes I’d ever seen. “Just keep it coming.” He smiled at me, and his dimple made my heart sputter. Nodding at him while I looked down at my notepad, I was hoping to God I wasn’t blushing.

  I looked back up at him, smiling shyly. “Coming right up.” I turned and walked away and watched him for the next seven hours as he studied. He came back the next night, and the night after that. His smile made my belly flip and my heart race, and when he finally got the nerve to ask me out, I couldn’t say no.

  “Has Daddy called?” Lizzie’s question snaps me out of my daydream.

  I shake my head. “Not yet,” I say sadly, the whole time actually fucking cursing him. Lately, he’s just fucking absent, and I hate it. “Maybe when you get back.” I smile at her as Daisy runs down the steps one at a time, picking up her backpack.

  “Let’s go to the bus.” I kiss Lizzie’s head, grabbing both girls’ hands, and walk them to the corner to wait for the yellow school bus. “Have a great day at school,” I tell them when the bus pulls up, and they climb on.

  I make my way to my house, our house—another dream come true for me. Walking inside, I go to the kitchen to clean up the plates from this morning. Once everything is finished, I pick up my phone to call Eric.

  “Hey, you’ve reached Eric, leave a message.”

  I breathe out. “It’s me. The girls tried calling you last night and this morning. I know you’re busy, but can you call me back?” I toss my phone down, making myself another cup of coffee.

  My
stomach turned and roiled, my hand resting on my now empty stomach. Our third baby was not meant to be. Two days after we found out, I miscarried. I didn’t know what to think about it. If I’m honest, it was a relief to both of us.

  The pregnancy was a shock, especially with Eric’s crazy travel schedule.

  He’s hardly home anymore, and when he’s here, he isn’t really here. I had a mini breakdown seven or eight months ago because I thought he was cheating. I looked for the signs, even looked in his phone when he was sleeping, but didn’t find anything. Even when I sat him down as I cried in his arms, he told me I was being silly and crazy. But something was there, something I couldn’t explain or put my finger on. I’m lost in my head today, so much so I don’t even notice the leak coming from the dishwasher till it’s all over my floor.

  “Fuck,” I say, running to get towels to mop it up. It takes me a full hour to finally get the floor clean. I pick up my phone and call my brother-in-law Elliot, who answers on the first ring.

  “If it isn’t my favorite sister-in-law,” he says, laughing.

  I roll my eyes. “I’m your only sister-in-law.” I laugh. Eric has two brothers, Elliot, and then his younger brother, Ethan. If there wasn’t a difference in ages, you would think they were triplets.

  “Okay, you got me there.” He laughs. “But no matter what, you’ll always be my favorite.”

  I shake my head, smiling. “Because I cook for you and wash your clothes.” With Eric out so much, Elliot usually joins us for dinner whenever he can, but lately, it hasn’t been that much. I think he has a new girl, and it’s getting serious. “My dishwasher is leaking again.”

  “Where is Eric?” he asks.

  “He left yesterday,” I answer and then look at the clock. It’s almost pickup time. “Do you think you can come and look at it?” I ask him. “I’m making chicken enchiladas.”

  He groans. “Fine, twist my arm. I’ll be there after I finish work,” he says, and I hear a drill in the background. He’s a mechanic who just opened his own shop in town.

  “Thank you,” I say, hanging up the phone and walking out the door to the bus stop. The kids bounce off the bus, and I bend to kiss them both.

  “How was school?” I ask them, and Lizzie tells me about the solar system project she needs to have done for tomorrow that she forgot about. I groan inwardly because I hated the solar system. “We can YouTube and Google and see what we come up with.” I grab her by the shoulders, bringing her to me; she is getting so big.

  The first thing the girls do is unload their lunch bags, throwing all the things in the garbage or the sink. I walk over to the computer with Lizzie, and we make a plan for the solar system. “We need to run out and get supplies,” I tell her as I call for Daisy, who comes hopping into the room. “We need to go to Michael’s for Lizzie’s project,” I tell her, and we all load up the minivan. We spend the next fucking three hours cutting Styrofoam balls and painting them different colors.

  Daisy has a meltdown because I won’t let her use the glue gun, and then again when I won’t let her paint. I’m at my wit’s end when she calls out for Daddy with her last breakdown.

  I pick up the phone to call him, going into another room. His voicemail picks up again. “Seriously, this is fucking ridiculous,” I say, angry with the fact I’m having to do a solar system project, angry that my five-year-old is having a nervous breakdown because she’s tired, angry that for the past fucking eighteen months, he hasn’t really fucking been here, and I’ve fucking had it.

  The hormones in my body are still fucking all over the place, my body doesn’t know if I’m having a baby or not, and it’s just the straw that broke the camel’s back. I hang up right when Elliot walks in and looks at me.

  “You okay?” he asks, coming to me.

  “No, I’m not okay. Your brother isn’t answering, Lizzie forgot about a project that she needs to do, Daisy is overtired and just crying about everything. I’ve kind of just reached my limit.” He doesn’t say anything, just goes into the kitchen.

  “I heard someone needs some help,” he says, and Daisy finally gets up from the floor, running to him. “Daisy girl, why the tears?”

  “Mommy didn’t let me glue and cut.” She wipes the tears from her cheeks with her palms. “Or paint.”

  “Well, it’s dangerous.” I let him explain to Daisy what I just tried to explain to her for the past two hours. Going to the stove, I take his plate out of the oven. He looks up, smiling when he sits on the chair. Picking Daisy up on his lap, he eats with one hand. I finish the project with Lizzie while Elliot gets his tools out and asks Daisy to be his helper.

  That lasts a whole five minutes before I hear crying from the kitchen and then Daisy runs in. “I want Daddy,” she says, and I murmur, “You aren’t the only one.”

  I pick up my phone again to call his number, and this time, it connects after two rings. Fucking finally.

  “Hello?” a shaky female voice answers his phone, and my stomach drops. The back of my neck gets hot, and my heart starts to pound so loud, it feels like it’s coming out of my eardrums. My hands shake and get sweaty.

  “Hello,” I answer, my voice almost as shaky as the woman who answered. “Who is this?” I ask her now, my voice coming out a little bit higher as I wait for her to tell me who she is. I think I know, I think my heart knows, but in the end, I knew nothing. Because the next few words cut me to my core. It is like he stood over me with a knife and stabbed me right in the heart. “This is Hailey.”

  “Who is Hailey?” I ask, waiting for the dreaded answer. Waiting for the confirmation of what I know deep inside.

  “Who are you?” she asks me, not willing to tell me who she is.

  “I’m his wife,” I say, and the shattering of her phone fills the silence. Just like that, my world falls apart, and my knees now give out as I fall to the floor.

  They say that when something happens to you and your body goes into shock, you remember key things from that day. I will never smell lemon again without thinking of the day my life changed. I will never listen to a certain song without being transported back.

  Your brain shuts off and goes into itself as it takes in certain little things, like the heat on your face as you drive down the street and the sound of chirping birds in the distance as they soar in front of you. The constant beat of your heart in your chest as the sound echoes in your ears like galloping horses. This is how you survive, I’m told. This is how my story goes. This is how my perfect life became broken.

  Chapter Four

  Samantha

  “Hello?” Another strange voice comes on the phone as my head starts to turn and my eyes start to see white spots.

  “Who is this?” I now ask in a whisper again.

  “This is Crystal.” she says. “Who is this?”

  “Samantha.” My voice cracks as a sob tries to come out, but I push it down. “Who are you guys, and why do you have Eric’s phone?” I look around to see if I can get Elliot’s attention, but I’m alone. I’m sitting in my living room with a picture of the two of us hanging in the middle of the room. My two girls beside me as I sit here and find out where my husband is.

  “Are you …” Crystal stops and then asks, “Who are you to Eric?”

  “I’m his wife,” I finally say. The sadness leaves me, replaced with anger. “And I’m about tired of answering questions without getting any of my own.”

  “I …” She stops, and then I hear her breathe out. “Where are you?”

  “I’m at home,” I answer her right away.

  “I need you to sit down.” It’s there again, the pain; the pain that turned to anger comes back. I look at Lizzie, who looks at me with tears running down her face, and Daisy, who has curled up beside me and is looking up at me, hoping I have the answers. “There has been an accident.”

  “Oh my God,” I whisper, and the sob that I was holding back now comes ripping through me. The shrieking and pain, running up my throat so hard, fast and loud, my throat
burns.

  “Is he okay?” I ask between the sobs.

  A man’s voice comes on. “He didn’t make it.” Four words that take whatever is left of me.

  “Mommy,” Lizzie says beside me. “Mommy, are you okay?” The tears stream down my cheeks, my chest starts to go up and down, and my breathing is so hard. My free hand goes to my chest, hoping to get the pain to go away.

  “Where”—I try to catch my breath, try to calm myself down before I pass out—“where is he?”

  “He’s at Mercy General Hospital.” His voice goes soft. “I’m sorry for your loss, but I have to know who are you?”

  “I’m his wife,” I say again. How many fucking times do I have to tell these people that I’m his wife? “We’ve been married twelve years. We have girls.” My voice fades off when I hear shouting.

  “What the fuck is going on?” Elliot finally says, grabbing the phone out of my hands. With everything going on, I didn’t even see him walk in. I didn’t notice him standing over me; I didn’t notice anything. “Who the fuck is this?”

  “Where is Samantha?” the man asks right away.

  “She’s right next to me. Now, answer my fucking question,” he says. I don’t know what the other guy says, but Elliot’s eyes close, and his head falls back as one tear escapes him.