Chapter 31~Lost and Found

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Long time no see beautiful people, happy reading.


Andrew's P.O.V.


I got a letter from the state yesterday. They somehow caught wind of the restraining order and the bullying charges. They are ordering a mandatory check-up to ensure I am still a suitable guardian. Apparently, it doesn't look good when your kid is groped and almost dies within six months; who knew? I have no idea how they even found out about the bullying. The school denied those charges as soon as I filed them, leaving me with nothing to do about my baby being terrorized. If I had to guess, I would assume Finn's parents have something to do with the letter sitting on my nightstand. Because how dare I try to press charges when their son almost kills mine.


Ever since I read that damn letter, I have been on edge. Of course, I know that everything is most likely going to be fine, but my brain doesn't think rationally when it comes to the boys. I need them as much as they need me. I don't know what I would do with my life if I didn't trip over Jack's backpack every morning or if I didn't spend my weekends at Ryan's games. I would even miss having to cook an extra meal every night because Denver is so damn picky. My life wouldn't be complete without my three boys.


That's why when Denver told me that after school, I flipped my shit. All I could think about was that letter. We didn't need anything else going wrong. I can't risk the state taking the boys. Lately, I feel like I am losing control. I feel like I don't even know them anymore. I have been so busy trying to keep a roof over their heads and food in their stomachs that I forgot to actually talk to them along the way. I have met their physical needs, just not their emotional needs, and I feel like shit. Andrew from a year ago would have hated me, but he also didn't see his baby brother almost die in his arms.


I needed air. I was going to blow up if I didn't get out of that house. The loss of control was causing me to be on edge all the time. Not saying that is an excuse for making Denver look so broken. There's no excuse for that. It's like the rage and stress blinded me for a minute, and I just said whatever came to mind, not thinking about the effect my words had. I know I yelled at Ryan and told him I could parent without him, but that's a total lie. I couldn't do this without Ryan. He keeps me sane. He's my reasonable side of me, usually. Today I apparently don't have a reasonable side. Don't get me started on Jack's fucking comment. He's right, though; sometimes, I act just like our father. Whenever I took guardianship over the boys, I told myself I wouldn't be like him. But I couldn't tell you the last time I hugged any of the boys, not counting when Denver flung himself at me earlier. I haven't initiated affection in so long. I need to get my shit together, or I will become my father, and that's the last thing I want. But maybe you just can't stop D.N.A.


I don't know how long I have been sitting in my truck. I'm just sitting in the driveway, thinking about how much I fucked up today. I wish I could just start today over. I have to go in and apologize to the boys. Now that I have calmed down, I see that I was way out of line. Opening my truck door, I start to walk back into my house—a house filled with my three boys that probably hate me now.


As I walk in, I shut the door softly, almost as if I don't want them to know I'm here. I hate stepping on eggshells with them, but I only have myself to blame for that. I don't hear any of them, which is to be expected after my one-man performance. My first thought is to find Denver and apologize. I need him to know how sorry I am. It's like I'm suffocating under all this guilt. With one thought in mind, I walk up the stairs and head for Denver's room.

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