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“Pancakes!” Sammy answered, clapping. “Chocolate.” When Olivia frowned, Sammy sighed. “Okay, fine, blueberry.”
“Go make your bed and they’ll be ready when you’re finished,” she called as her daughter raced off.
She’d have to remake the bed, but Olivia was trying to teach her good habits. It felt like every week she was making leeway by Sunday when Sammy went to her father’s place, only to have her return with bad habits the following weekend.
At least she returned.
Olivia figured it was about being consistent with her and at the end of the day, Sammy would decide who she wanted to be. There was a lot of loving and letting go in parenting that she had never imagined before becoming one.
Unfortunately, she’d chosen a horrible man to procreate with, but she couldn’t regret it when she looked at her daughter. She loved Sammy more than her own breath.
Which is why, she reminded herself, she had to be smart about Fletcher.
The itch was scratched, and now it was time to move on.
She would talk to Fletcher on Monday to be sure he wasn’t going to do anything to jeopardize her shared custody arrangement or trigger Simon.
Olivia knew she was likely being a little paranoid, and that Simon had few legs to stand on when it came to many of his threats, but he’d lied under oath, planted drugsanddrugged her to get Sammy once.
She wasn’t going to let her barriers down for a second.
Did she dream of going into protective custody and never having him in her life again?
You bet!
Was it possible? No.
Because her life wasn’t a Hollywood fiction movie.
Dammit.
If that was the case, she’d get the guy and a life without Simon.
Narcissists were dangerous. They had no conscience paired with a willingness to lie and do whatever it took to win.
So she had to be one step ahead.
Sammy needed her. Every day they’d been apart over those horrific six months had been a nightmare. Olivia had imagined the most terrible things which may or may not be true. She’d tried to ask Sammy about what life was like with her father, but carefully. The last thing she wanted was her daughter repeating the questions, innocently, and having that backfiring on her.
But the thing was, narcissistic behaviors were often invisible to the outside world; the scars unseen, the damage impossible to prove in a courtroom.
He could be doing so much damage to Sammy emotionally and mentally, and there was nothing she could do.
Her fists clenched against the kitchen bench.
Now she had fifty percent custody, Olivia was able to reduce the exposure Sammy had with her father and try to counter it with her love. She constantly told her daughter how amazing and beautiful she was, and how she could be anything she wanted.
It wasn’t perfect, but it was better than nothing.
After breakfast, she dragged Sammy to the shops for a new pair of school shoes, and then they went to the park and met Addison and Sienna.
Addison was the only friend who’d genuinely believed she wasn’t guilty when Sammy had been taken from her.
“You, take drugs? No offense, but you’re too straight-laced for that,” Addison had joked.
“Hey, I’m not... okay, maybe I am.” Olivia had shrugged, then burst into tears at the relief of someone believing her.
She’d also introduced her to Belinda Pendleton—the lawyer who had helped her get Sammy back.
