Page 115 of Stolen Dreams

Yesterday shook us all to the core.

For hours, I lost my shit. I went off on Kaya, screamed at people I love, and felt compelled to knock out a few who seemed to dally. Horrors filtered through my mind as I sent infinite pleas to the universe—don’t let them hurt Tucker. Nausea simmered in my belly the entire time Tucker was gone.

For the second time, my worst fear pointed its proverbial finger at me and laughed in my face.

I am a bad father.

Panic ensued the day Brianna told me she was pregnant. Neither of us knew a thing about being a parent. We were still in thefunphase of our relationship—the wild, uninhibited, let’s-have-sex-ten-times-a-day period. We were monogamous but not serious. I had my place and she had hers. Both of us were focused on our culinary careers. Marriage, children, and settling down were nowhere near our radar.

Two positive pregnancy tests changed Brianna and me forever. While I went from panicked to queasy to optimistic to elated, Brianna went the opposite direction.

From the beginning, she voiced her disdain. Was adamant in her stance on motherhood—quiet and uneasy at first, beyond deafening and adamant during our last fight—she did not want to be a parent. I tried to do the right thing. Suggested we live together and work opposite shifts so our lives and careers didn’t take as heavy a hit.

Brianna slapped me with her scorn often, and I took every hit without complaint. At the time, I felt I deserved it.

While I sought ways to improve our relationship, Brianna searched for a way out. While I busted my ass to be the best father possible, Brianna plotted ways to use Tucker to her advantage. Who wouldn’t help a homeless single mother with a toddler and no money?

I’ll give it to her; Brianna knows how to play everyone for personal gain. But it ends now.

“You don’t have to go,” I say to Kaya. Last night, we talked about going to the hospital to speak with Brianna. Kaya hadn’t given me a clear answer on whether she’d go with us. “If you need to be at the rec center?—”

“No,” she cuts me off. “I want to go.” Her expression softens. “You and Tucker need me there.” She reaches across the table and takes my hand. “Ineed to be there.” Those last words come out almost inaudible.

Like it or not, Brianna hurt Kaya. By coming after and hurting the people she cares about, Brianna left Kaya with a fresh wound. Over time, the scar it leaves behind will smooth out and be less noticeable, but it will always exist.

The first step to heal invisible wounds… closure.

Kaya needs to see Brianna, maybe speak with her to move forward. Tucker and I need this visit, too. It may not be the last time we see her, but knowing Brianna’s no longer a threat is the major suture in a lifelong wound.

Turning my palm up, I cradle her hand in mine and mirror her gentle strength. “Then we all go.” I shift my attention to Tucker and inhale a shaky breath. “If it upsets you, bud, you don’t have to go. Grandma and Papa RJ said you can hang out with them.”

Still in this edgy cloud of apprehension, Tucker pokes at his scrambled eggs with his fork. After a fitful night of sleep, I didn’t expect him to eat much today. He’s eaten half of what I put on his plate. I’ll call it a win.

The silence is broken when the clang of Tucker’s fork hitting the plate bounces off the walls. A huff spills from his lips as he slouches in his seat and drops his hands in his lap. His dark brows scrunch together as he stares at his plate.

I mentally prepare for a hundred different scenarios, but mainly for him to go off. I’ve seen and experienced every emotion except true anger from him regarding his mother. All the unnecessary chaos Brianna thrust into his life, he should be angry—at her for putting him in those situations and not caring how it made him feel, at me for not doing more to find and rescue him the first time.

Do I want my little man upset or angry? Never. The idea makes me sick.

But he must harborsomethingfor all the heartache he’s been through. It’s normal. Human. Whether it’s with me, Kaya, or a therapist, Tucker needs to get it out.

“I need to go, too,” he finally says. “I want to say goodbye to Mom.”

No child should have to be so brave. Not this early in life. Not with someone who should love them unconditionally.

“Okay, bud.” I swallow, school my features, and exude strength I don’t feel. “Let’s clean up and get ready.”

Antiseptic stings my nose as a blast of cold air dries my eyes. Hushed conversations drift through the waiting area. The weight of a hundred stares bores into the back of my head, but I keep my eyes forward. Tighten my hold on Tucker and Kaya and picture invisible armor around us as we step farther into the hospital.

Can’t say I blame the townies and gossipmongers for being curious. Just let us get through today. Let us catch our breath. There will be plenty of time to plaster our names in the town paper later.

I steer us toward the front desk and don an artificial smile.

The receptionist glances up from their computer. “May I help you?”

“Brianna Werner’s room number, please.”

They study me with scrutinous eyes. “Are you family?”

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