Page 117 of Stolen Dreams

I rise to my full height and turn toward Kaya. “Take Tucker into the hall? I need a minute alone with her.”

Compassion softens Kaya’s expression as she nods. She offers her hand to Tucker. “Let’s go see what kind of candy they have in the vending machine.”

Tucker takes Kaya’s hand, and they exit the room.

When the door clicks shut, I count to ten in my head to make sure Tucker is out of earshot. The second I hit ten, I pivot and step up to the foot of the bed.

“Blame me all you want for your shitty life decisions, Bri”—I point toward the door—“but don’t you fucking dare blame him.Ever.” My molars ache as I clench my jaw. “We all make choices, and you made yours. Deal with the consequences like a big girl.”

I grip the footrail until my knuckles burn. “I thank whatever cosmic force brought Tucker into my life. If you were a decent human being, you’d see beyond yourself and how incredible he is.” Releasing the rail, I take a step back. “Your loss.”

She opens her mouth to feed me some line of bullshit, but I cut her off.

“No, Bri,” I bellow, holding my hand up. “You’ve done more than enough damage.” I point to the ground. “From this day forward, you keep Tucker’s name out of your mouth. Hell, don’t even think it. You never wanted a kid?” I clap my hands in front of my face then spread them out. “Poof. You don’t have one.” Narrowing my eyes, I tilt my head. “In case you need a reminder, you have no parental rights.He is mine.”

Needing distance, I take a step toward the door. Then another. An arm’s length from the door, I peer over my shoulder. “If you so much as look at Tucker again, it’ll be the last thing you see.”

“Did you just threaten me in front of a pig?”

I glance at the cop. “Did I just threaten her?”

He tips his head from side to side. “Technically, no.”

Gripping the door handle, I take one last look at Brianna. “Have the life you deserve.” Then I fling the door open and walk away.

Unfortunately, I will see her again… when her case goes to trial. But hearing her sentence and knowing she won’t be anywhere near Tucker for many years to come is the final piece of closure I need.

Headed back the way we came, I find Tucker and Kaya at the vending machines. Tucker has a can of soda, two different types of chips, and a few sugary snacks. Kaya has two drinks—one she hands to me—and a bag of pretzels.

“Thanks.” I tip my head toward the elevator. “Let’s get out of here.”

The trip back to the car goes much quicker. As if the universe saysyou’ve been through enough, let me make the rest easier.

In the car, we buckle up, but I don’t start it. Before we leave the lot, I want everything out. All the anger, frustration, and hurt, it all needs to be out in the open so we can move forward.

“It might be hard to talk about, but I need to know how you feel, Tucker,” I say. “What happened will stick with us for a while, but we shouldn’t keep it to ourselves.”

He’s quiet, thoughtful for a moment. “Will I ever see my mom again?”

I twist in my seat to look at him. “Probably not, bud. She’s done a lot of bad stuff and has to take responsibility for it.” I contemplate leaving it at that but decide it’s best he’s aware of the other reason he won’t see Brianna again. “And when she brought you here last year, she signed a special paper that says she doesn’t want to be your mom anymore.”

Insufferable heartbreak contorts his sweet face. “Why would she do that?”

The part of me that never wants Tucker to be in pain, whether physical, mental, or emotional, wants to sugarcoat the truth to soften the blow. But not ten minutes ago, Brianna spewed bitter, cruel words with Tucker mere feet from her bed.

Brutal honesty hurts, but it’s better to experience the momentary stab now than be left in the dark for a long time and be irreparably devastated years later.

“Brianna didn’t want to be a mom, and that’s not your fault. Never was, never will be.” I spin the soda can in the cup holder. “We cared about each other and were happy. That’s how you came into our lives.” I reach between the front seats and rest a hand on Tucker’s knee. “I’ve loved you since the moment I knew you existed. Brianna struggled with being a parent.”

I make a point to call Brianna by her name rather than Mom. She signed away her right to the title, not that she ever deserved it. In my eyes, she lost the moniker eight years ago, maybe before that. But Tucker has only ever known her as Mom. So perhaps, if I say her name enough times instead of Mom, it will shift his mindset and help him move forward.

“I’ve always wanted the best for you, bud. And that will never change. But I wish I would’ve known sooner that both parents being together doesn’t always equal a happy life.”

Tucker drops his gaze to his lap and wrings his fingers. “Is she going to jail?”

I want to say yes and mean it, but ultimately, the decision is out of my hands. After all she has done, it’d be a shock if she didn’t go to prison.

“Probably, bud. How does that make you feel?”

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