A Mother's Bond

2

Beyoncé P.O.V. July 4, 2016
"Bey."

I groaned, pulling my covers over my head. I felt a hand lightly touch my shoulder. I immediately recoiled from the contact.

"Just let me have one day. I want one day. Is that too much to ask?" I yelled through the covers.

I heard a sigh before the covers were ripped off me, exposing me to blinding light. I glared up at my husband of 10 years. He was wearing a black t-shirt and jeans. At least he hadn't disrespected me by wearing bright colors.

He looked sympathetically down at me, big lips pulling back into a kind smile. I snarled in response. He stepped back in shock, momentarily losing his composure. I hoped he would take the hint, but he just shook it off and came right back. Damn persistent motherfucker.

"Bey, every year it's the same thing."

"Then you should be used to it by now," I grumbled under my breath.

"You lock yourself in your room for days refusing to eat, refusing to see anyone. It needs to stop," Jay, continued, ignoring me. His tone was kind, but stern. He was very clear. While he sympathized with my pain, he would not allow me to deal with it my way.

I clenched my jaw, barely containing my rage. "I will stop when we find our daughter, or have you forgotten about her?" I demanded, accusation plain in my voice.

His gaze turned cold. I felt a twinge of guilt. Deep down I knew Jay was hurting as much as I was, but it was easier to lash out at him than to acknowledge that.

"I'm gonna let that go because I know you're hurting, but don't ever suggest that I've forgotten about our daughter. I miss her every day, but I keep pushing through because I know that wallowing in sadness won't help anyone, especially not Blue."

Tears blurred my vision. I rolled over, turning my back on Jay. He would never understand the pain I carried. It was all my fault.

11 Years earlier

"You've got to be fucking kidding me with this bullshit, Jay. This is gonna be her first time seeing fireworks. Do you know how much this means to her? She's been talking about seeing the fireworks with her daddy for weeks." I yelled into the phone.

I looked over at August. She was playing in a sandbox with three other kids. She had gotten dirt all over her overalls. I shook my head. I couldn't see it, but I knew she had sand clumped in her hair. It would take forever to wash. I shouldn't have let her wear her hair out, but she wanted to look like Scary Spice, and I couldn't stand to see her upset.

"Angel will understand," he answered.

"NO, SHE WON'T. SHE'S FOUR YEARS OLD. THE ONLY THING SHE UNDERSTANDS IS 'HERE' AND 'NOT HERE', AND YOU ARE NOT HERE."

August looked up at me with big hazel brown eyes from across the playground. I forced a smile and playfully wiggled my fingers at her. She stood up, clutching her stuffed monkey, Mr. Socks, to her chest. Damn it. She could always sense when something was wrong.

"Come on, Bey. You knew this was always a possibility. I'm building us an empire, baby. I can't start slacking now." He explained.

I was barely listening to him. All I heard was he wasn't coming, and that was enough to get me good and pissed, but I knew I had to stay calm. So, I grit my teeth and kept my voice low.

"You always have an excuse ready for me. Do you know how fucking irritating that is?" I whispered angrily. "Today was supposed to be family day. Just you, me and August. No paparazzi, no work, no bullshit. Just us."

August walked up to me, holding out a fuzzy dandelion. She hated seeing me upset too. I guess we had that in common. I accepted it with a genuine smile and gently shooed her away. Once she was sitting in the sandbox, Mr. Socks by her side, I turned around. I didn't want her to see that I was still unhappy.

"Bey–" he began, but I cut him off.

"No." I whispered, angrily. "It's always something with you. If it's not the label, it's the album. If it's not the album, it's the tour. It never ends. By this point, you'll be lucky if August remembers your face the next time you see her."

I hung up before he could say anything else. I took a deep breath, preparing to be super mom and turned around. To a stranger looking on, it probably looked like nothing had changed. So little had. The two moms were still chatting on the bench. The three kids were still playing in the sandbox. Everything seemed fine, except nothing was. Because there hadn't been three kids playing in the sand. There had been four. My smile fell from my face.

"August."

No answer.

"AUGUST!"

I sprinted towards the sandbox. She was gone. Mr. Socks the only sign she had ever been there. I snatched him up. The other two moms looked at me like I was crazy.

"Have you seen my daughter?" I asked, frantically swiveling my head around, trying to catch a glimpse of August.

"Sorry, we were talking. We weren't really watching." She explained, apologetically.

I ran my hand through my hair, trying not to scream. I ran towards the playground while dialing 9-1-1.

"Hello 9-1-1, wh–"

"My child's been taken." I sobbed, looking around the park like a madwoman.

"AUGUUUUST!" I screamed.

"Ma'am, if you could just–"

"AUUGUUUUSSSSSSSST"

"Mommy?" a small voice replied.

I sat up, scrambling around my bed, knocking pillows aside.

"August!" I yelled back, reality not fully sinking in.

I looked into a pair of dark brown eyes. Beautiful dark brown eyes, but they weren't hazel.

"It's not August yet, Mommy. August comes after July." Blue stated innocently.

I nodded slowly, turning away from her. I buried my face in my hands and sobbed.