“Olivia! Answer me!”

I tore through the living room and grabbed the wall just as I entered the hallway to slow myself to a stop. With careful, slow steps back toward the kitchen, I turned and eyed Olivia sitting at the bar talking quietly on the house phone.

“Liv.”

She didn’t move or acknowledge me in any way.

“Olivia, look at me!”

Slowly lifting her head, with eyes wide, she pointed at the phone. “Can’t you see I’m on the phone, Brody? Jesus!”

“Get off the phone and fucking talk to me!”

“Daddy, do you hear him? He’s crazy. I don’t feel safe being in the house with him, all he does is yell at me. If I stay here I’ll end up in the hospital or worse. Can I come stay with you?”

My jaw dropped as I listened to her. “I’m crazy? I’m crazy? Olivia, you just told me you were about to kill yourself!”

She gave me a look like I was some ridiculous child. “Now he’s trying to make me believe I’m suicidal. I swear this house is bad for my health. Tell Mom I’ll be there as soon as I pack a bag. If I’m not there or you don’t hear from me within twenty minutes, call the cops. Brody’s a loose cannon these days.”

“Olivia, tell him! Tell him what you were just telling me.”

Rolling her eyes, she sighed dramatically and pinned me with a look. “My dad wants to know if you have the money to buy me a new phone.”

My head jerked back. “What happened to yours?”

“Oh, my God. Now he’s acting like he doesn’t know,” she whispered into the phone. Looking back at me, she spoke slowly. “Because you shattered my phone, Brody.”

“I—what? You just called me from your cell phone less than an hour ago. I just got home. My goddamn car is still running!”

“Ugh. Whatever, I’ll just pay for the new phone, Dad. Don’t worry about it. I’ll see you soon.” Sliding off the bar stool, she walked past me and toward her part of the house. “I know, I’m scared to be here with him, but I’ll be out of here soon. Love you too. Bye.”

Dropping the phone on the couch, she kept walking and didn’t stop until I slammed my hand down on the bar and yelled, “What the fuck are you doing, Olivia? You know I’ve been gone! You fucking called me because I wasn’t home. I don’t know what the fuck you did to your phone, but I still have it on mine that you called.”

She shrugged. “I wanted a new phone.”

“You—you wanted—you wanted a new phone?! That’s what all this was about? Olivia! What the fuck is wrong with you? You told me you were going to kill yourself. You said you wanted to be with Tate, and I come home to find you telling your goddamn dad that I’m crazy, and scaring you, and you think I’m going to beat you?”

“Well, you were yelling, what was I supposed to think?” she screeched back.

“When have I ever laid a hand on you, Olivia? When?” She didn’t respond and my voice got louder. “Answer me!”

“You haven’t. Yet! But you’re always yelling, you’re always mad at me. It’s only going to escalate. This is how abusive relationships begin—with the man treating the woman this way.”

I huffed harshly a few times and paced the short distance between the bar and kitchen table before sitting down in a chair and grabbing at my hair. “You have got to be kidding me! You expect me not to yell when you pulled the shit you just did? When you drain our bank accounts? When you shatter practically every dish in our kitchen? And then you go back to acting like nothing happened at all? Or you break your own phone and then call your dad and place some weird blame for it on me? Who wouldn’t yell at you about that shit after almost five fucking years?!”

“Yeah, Brody. Five years. Five! Five years of coping with the fact that my distant and hateful husband murdered my baby!”

The air left my lungs in a hard rush, and I gripped at the table when I started falling forward. When I was able to speak again, my voice was low and dark. “I did not murder Tate. How dare you even suggest that. You aren’t the only one who’s been struggling. I struggle through what happened every day, and there are days when I feel like I can’t even get myself out of bed because the grief is too much. But you don’t see me lying about committing suicide. You don’t see me trying to place blame somewhere else.”

“Because there is nowhere else to place the blame. It’s all on you. Always has been, always will be. You’ve taken everything from me. Never forget that.” She took a few steps and stopped before the hallway. “I’m going to my parents’, as you obviously heard. Unless you’ve deluded yourself into thinking I’m going to commit suicide again,” she sneered. “I want a new iPhone waiting for me when I get home tomorrow.”

“You’re sick, Liv,” I whispered to the empty kitchen after I’d heard her bedroom door slam shut. “And you need help. God, you need so much help.”

9

Brody

June 9, 2015

ONCE I WAS done explaining everything to my chief, I sat there silently as I waited for him to respond. He’d remained quiet and emotionless as I told him about the changes in Olivia since Tate’s death, and how they’d been progressing quickly over the last couple weeks.

It’d been four days since she told me she was going to kill herself, and even though she’d spent most of that time at her parents’ house, I’d refused to leave ours just in case.

And no, I hadn’t bought her a new phone.

“Saco, I know it’s been difficult for you ever since Tate passed,” he finally said, “and I know things at home have been, well . . . rocky. I respect that you want to get help for your wife, really I do. But you should maybe think about letting her family handle this.”

My head jerked back and I scrambled for the right words. “What—how could—what does that—what are you—what?!”

“Sometimes, as men, we need to know when—”

“Are you kidding? Did you not hear all I just told you? She’s with her family most of the time and she’s only getting worse. She’s telling them that she’s scared of me, and knowing the kind of people they are, they’ll believe that I’m actually beating her or something.”

“They do, Saco.”

I kept talking over him. “I need to get her help, I need to get doctors to see her. She won’t willingly go, when I suggest something she—”

“Brody!” he snapped. “They do believe you’re beating her.”

My chest heaved up and down quickly as I stared at him. “What?”

Chief sighed heavily and sank into his chair. “I didn’t want to have to tell you about this.”

When he didn’t expand on what “this” was, I slapped my hand down on his desk. “Tell me what?”

“The department received a formal complaint on you a few days ago. It was from Olivia’s parents. Stated instances where Olivia has called them, scared of you, where you could be heard yelling in the background, and times when she’s been able to escape you and come to their house, she’s been claiming you had hit her.”

I felt the blood quickly drain from my cheeks, and my head felt light. “Chief. No, you know I wouldn’t.”

He held up a hand to stop me, and I looked around the office for a trash can. “I know that. Which is why I hadn’t planned on telling you about it and hadn’t planned on taking any action against you. Besides, they even said they had no evidence other than hearing you yelling while she was talking to them.”

“She’s almost never home!” I defended myself unnecessarily as my eyes kept looking for something I could throw up in.

“I know. Saco, you need to breathe. Okay? Can is behind you if you need to hurl. Just breathe and listen to me.”

I nodded my head and gripped the arms of the chair I was sitting in.

“The complaint came in a few mornings ago. From what you were telling me, it was the morning after her latest episode. Now, you said you were out when she called, correct?”

My mind flashed to the hotel with Kamryn, and my eyes slowly met Chief’s. “Yes.”

“And that person will testify to that if needed?”

I nodded again, even as I knew I couldn’t put Kamryn in that situation.

“Because I know you wouldn’t do this to anyone, Olivia included. But if her family decides to send a letter like this to a judge or someone else who doesn’t know you like I do, then you’ll need to be able to fight your side. You understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“That is why I said you might want to leave this to her family. Because even though she has threatened suicide to you, to others she’s saying you’re making it up. She hasn’t done anything suicidal yet, and until then, you can’t force her to be seen by a doctor. It has to be her decision. And if she’s retaliating against you this way when you are suggesting she get help, I don’t see this ending well for you, if you know what I mean.”

I ran my hands agitatedly through my hair and leaned back in the chair. “But I’m the one who caused this. This is all on me. I owe it to her to get her help.”

Chief was silent for a long time as he thought about how to respond. “I get it, Saco, I do. I just hate to see you doing this to yourself, and I hate to see her family trying to destroy you and your career even more. This is going to sound heartless and is to be kept between you and me, but just know that helping her now may hurt you more in the end. Like I said, it may be worth it to let her family deal with it.”

I thought about my relationship with Kamryn, but pushed that to the back of my mind for now. “I appreciate the advice, Chief. But I need to keep trying.” I stood to leave, then turned to face him as I reached the door and asked my original question again. “So there’s nothing I can do that you know of?”

“No, sorry. Unless she does something suicidal, or something we can arrest her for, it ultimately has to be her decision to get help. I’m here if you need anything, Saco.”

“Thank you. I’ll be back before my shift tonight, there’s something I have to do.” I didn’t wait for him to respond, I just turned and made my way out of the police department.

I drove to the familiar lot and parked in the same spot I always do. With a deep breath in, I got out of my Expedition and walked the too-familiar path until I was standing in front of the piece of marble with Tate’s name and dates on it. Squatting down, I moved the stuffed monkey I’d placed there for his fifth birthday and traced the letters and numbers as I apologized again to my son.

After he died, my family and friends had all said that one day the pain would slowly start lessening, that one day it would get easier and I’d start moving on with my life. They were wrong. I still hated myself, the guilt still ate at me just as much as it had the day it happened, and my grief was as strong as ever. Kamryn was bringing me back to life, but with Tate gone, and with Olivia constantly throwing his death in my face, I didn’t know how to even begin to deal and move on from the sorrow that was always waiting in the background.

Placing the monkey back in front of the headstone, I pressed my fingers to my lips before touching the cool stone.

“I love you, little man. I’m so sorry.”


Kamryn

June 9, 2015

DROPPING THE TAKEOUT on the island in my kitchen, I took off for my bedroom and rushed to get into my pajamas. Just as I was slipping the shirt over my head, the doorbell rang, and I ran back through my condo to answer the door.

“Did you get the food?” Kinlee asked excitedly.

“Just got home from picking it up. Did you get the stuff for the drinks?”

She held up a large brown paper bag. “Pfft. Duh!” Turning to look at Jace, she made a shoo-ing motion with her hand. “You can go now, slave.”

He rolled his eyes, but smiled as he looked at me. “Call me if she gets too trashed. Otherwise I’ll be back at eleven.”

“See you then!”

After kissing my cheek, he grabbed Kinlee’s cheeks in his hands and kissed her hard. “Call me ‘slave’ again and see who doesn’t get that thing she likes tonight.”

Kinlee whined, “Babe! That’s not fair, you promised!”

“I think I just threw up,” I whispered.

“You gonna call me ‘slave’ again?”

“No,” she said and pouted.

“Then start counting down the hours until I—”

“I’m still standing here!” I yelled, cutting Jace off. “Still losing my appetite rapidly. Please leave.”

He laughed loudly and with another quick kiss to Kinlee’s forehead, turned and headed toward his truck.