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I scrub my hands over my face.Had. I had a child with her.“It’s complicated.”
“You hated me because I kept a secret from you about something as simple as breaking up, and you act like I’m Satan, but you’ve been hiding the fact that you have a child. Where is he? Why isn’t he here with you? Do her parents have him? Gosh, I have so many questions. You think keeping a secret like this from me is okay?”
Anger is replacing her understanding as she paces in front of me.
The problem is, people don’t think of the worst-case scenarios because they’ve only seen it on the news, seen it on true crime documentaries; most people don’t know someone close to them who’s lived through the hell of real-life20/20episodes.
I drop my head, take a few deep breaths, and then slowly look back up. “Missy was my partner in Chicago.”
She stops her rambling and pacing, at my first admission. Her back is straight, and she’s still. I can see her mind working, telling herself to come up with a question to get her as much information as she can.
“What do you mean, partner? Life partner … sex partner?”
“We were both police officers … partners.”
Her eyes widen in understanding. “And then you started sleeping together? Isn’t that against the code of conduct?”
“There were no rules restricting officers from having relationships with other officers. It’s actually common. Partners understand each other.”
“So you started sleeping with her because she understood you?” That hurt is back on her face.
“I’m not sure how it started. It wasn’t planned. We were drinking at a friend’s birthday party. One thing led to another, and we had sex.”
“Only once?
I pat the space next to me, and she sits down.
“We had sex off and on for years.”
“I’m so confused. You had sex off and on for years while you were married? Shouldn’t that stay consistent?”
“It was before and during our marriage.”
“You said you got married as a favor to her?” She points to the stack of pictures on the floor. “Not to be rude, but that little boy doesn’t resemble either of you. Was Missy pregnant with another man’s baby and you married her to help raise him?”
My story with Missy is one people wouldn’t guess. It’s complicated. The preacher who married us called it a kind gesture and said we were saints for what we did.
“The station was a safe haven,” I say. “Someone dropped off a baby one night, and Missy and I were the ones who found him. We brought him to the hospital. He was malnourished, addicted to every drug imaginable, and filthy.”
I’ll remember that day for the rest of my life. We were ending a shift, walking into the station to finish up some paperwork, when we heard the loud cry ring through the chilly wind. We followed the sound to a set of steps, and as soon as he saw us, he stopped.
My voice breaks. “Three months old and an addict. We visited him in the hospital daily, and Missy fell in love with him.Ifell in love with him. She got in touch with his social worker to adopt him. Since we’d slept together plenty of times, and we had a trustworthy relationship, she suggested we do it together and co-parent. I agreed, and we got married.”
“Why couldn’t you co-parent him without getting married?”
“They were giving Missy a hard time about being a single foster parent. The social worker said they’d consider placing him with a married couple over her, but he’d be in the system until then. We didn’t want him put in the system, so we made the decision to become that married couple who could have him.”
She nods for me to continue.
“The first few years of our arrangement ran smoothly. We lived down the block from each other and spent time together, and yes, we still did sleep together. I’d told her I wasn’t looking for anything serious before we slept together the first time.”
“You got married and adopted a baby with her. You can’t say that’s nothing serious.”
“You’re right. I realize that now, and I should’ve earlier, but it seemed so simple.”
“Then, what happened? Why is she in prison?”
“I told her about you, about my life here, about why I’d left. It’s easy to get personal with someone you spend so much time with. Missy said she understood and agreed we’d never be a real married couple, but she started to change as Andy got older. She grew more protective of me. Called me nonstop. Showed up at my house at all hours of the night. Started drinking more. She got suspended from the force as a result of aggression with arrestees.
