Noah

“We are not naming our kid Hashtag,” I protest.

I laugh, but something much more serious stirs in Brazen.

“Our kid?”

“Yeah, I mean, you want kids, don’t you?” I’m not going to take it back or act as if it was a slip of the tongue.

Children are nowhere near my immediate future, but I can see my life with Brazen, and there are kids. Our children. So, there is no reason for me to pretend like I don’t see those things. I’m confident enough in the man Brazen is to know that my statement won’t scare him.

“With you, I want it all, especially a little Hashtag.” His fingers skim under my breast.

I giggle from his touch and his playfulness. “Is Hashtag a name for a boy or a girl?”

“It’s unisex, which means we can name them all Hashtag and differentiate them by their middle names. A family of Hashtags.” He kisses my stomach as if there is already something for us to be planning for. Make no mistake, there is not.

“Like, Hashtag Oldest Hale, Hashtag Middle Hale, and Hashtag Baby Hale?” The idea sounds so ridiculous as it comes from my mouth. Never happening.

“Exactly.”

“Those children will hate you when they go to elementary school.”

Kids are mean, and despite the plethora of celebrity-style names, a kid named Hashtag would totally get a wedgie on the playground.

It feels good to joke around with Brazen and spend some time with him, but we both freeze when we hear his front door slam open and close.

“Brazen! Get out here!” his mom yells, sounding far too frantic for us to ignore her.

Brazen jumps from the bed, as do I, and we throw on clothes. We can’t get to Beth fast enough, and once we round the corner into the living room, we find her standing, watching the television.

“They found him,” she says.

Police are escorting a man into the station. He looks messy and disheveled, which is nothing like I pictured Matt to look like. Right before he enters the building, he looks directly into the camera, and chills cover my flesh. I look over at Brazen, and tears race down his cheeks. I take his hand while we listen to the report.

“A man suspected of killing his estranged wife was apprehended today. Sunday Olson went missing over a week ago, and her body was found a few hours later. Authorities have been unable to track down Matt Norman until today when his girlfriend, Stephanie Clark, came forward with information on his whereabouts.”

Brazen drops to his knees and hits the floor. Not sure if he feels relief or if the reality of everything is hitting him, I move to comfort him, throwing my arms around his shoulders and pulling him close.

“They got him,” he sobs.

“They did. They found him.” I rub his back, and he leans into me.

“I didn’t think they would actually find him,” Brazen admits.

“Oh, sweetie, we were all worried.” Beth watches her son and cries as well.

Tears soak the front of my shirt as I hold Brazen. I whisper words of comfort and tell him how much I love him. This moment is emotional, but seeing Matt apprehended is exactly what we all needed. It’s what Sunday deserves—for her killer to be caught. She deserves to have the man who stole her future, her hopes, and her dreams to be behind bars. Brazen breaks down, and it demolishes my heart. His mom stands helpless to the side. The news story plays out in the background. His frame shakes, and he bellows out in woe.

“She’s gone. She’s really gone. He killed her.” Brazen’s torment fills the room.

There is nothing I can say. There are no words that can bring someone back to life.

There is a lot of sadness in an orphanage. So, I’ve seen a lot of struggles. After depression swallows people whole, I’ve watched them disappear into themselves and lose everything that made them who they were. My mother chose a man over me. I met caretakers whose job it was to nurture and saw them do nothing but neglect. Sunday lived in constant fear of a monster. In short, I’ve seen a lot of ugly parts of the world.

But death is a whole different monster.

I’ve never faced losing someone like this, and after watching Brazen, I’m not sure that time, love, or justice could ever really completely heal his pain.

At some point, Beth leaves us alone, and Brazen and I don’t speak much while he lets out his emotions. The quiet living room turns dark after the sun leaves the sky. Gently, I coax Brazen back to his room. I’m not leaving him, not tonight. There is nothing that could pull me from his side while he needs me. We get into his bed, and I curl against his side, laying my head on his shoulder and my hand over his heart.

Eventually, Brazen falls asleep, and I watch his face slowly relax, the lines of pain softening as my own anger bubbles on a simmer inside me.

Matt has caused so much pain for this family. He’s taken so much from them.

I know what it’s like to feel trapped. If there is anyone that deserves that overwhelming sensation, it’s Matt. I won’t feel any compassion once he is named guilty.

Matt deserves whatever he gets and so much more.