I nod, quick and shallow. “Yes, sir. And these are my parents here visiting from Montana,” I reply, gesturing to Chaz and Mom, who step up on either side of me.
“It was definitely a break in. We can’t tell if anything was taken, so we’ll need you to take a look around. But fair warning, it’s pretty bad in there,” he says with a grimace, and I feel my knees knock together.
Why? Why would something like this happen to me? Haven’t I been through enough in the past eight months?
We walk up the front steps, two officers leading the way while the other two make their way back to one of their vehicles, and the moment my eyes take in the front room, I immediately burst into tears.
I hear Mom cry out an “Oh!” and Chaz puts his arms around both of us.
Such violence. So much destruction. There isn’t a single thing that hasn’t been smashed and destroyed. The front room is the formal dining room, and my curio cabinet that one held the China Mike and I got as a wedding gift has been toppled over onto the dining table, and the eight chairs around it have been ripped to pieces. Stepping farther into the house past the foyer, I see the living room is just as bad. Nothing looks like it’s been taken, but everything looks like a bull was let loose inside my home. The TV looks like someone took a sledgehammer to it. They only clear space is my couch. Everything else has been pulled out of the entertainment center and broken and thrown all over the room.
Stepping farther, my kitchen, my beautiful kitchen, the heart of my home, where so many of my good memories with my baby girls were made, along with the bad one of Mike telling me about his affair, has been completely demolished.
“All the destruction is downstairs. It doesn’t look like they went upstairs, but if you could take a look to make sure nothing is missing….” Officer Jameson prompts, gesturing toward the stairs, and we head up there. He’s right though; nothing looks out of place. The girls always take their tablets with them to Mike’s place, so those wouldn’t be here anyway. I hurry back down the stairs, across the house, and up the flight to my master bedroom and see it’s untouched as well.
“Nothing seems to be missing,” I tell the policeman, and my chin trembles.
Chaz wraps his arms around me when he sees I’m about to crumble. “Is… is there anyone you want to call, honey?” he asks.
Yes. There is. Winston. I’d give anything to call him and have him come fix everything. He always takes such good care of me, makes everything all better. But I can’t call him. I can’t even set eyes on him without wanting to fall apart. Much less call him to come be my hero. It wouldn’t be fair to him. It wouldn’t be fair to either of us. I can’t use him that way, let him see how much I want and need him, only to have to turn him away once again once everything is back to the way it was. Not that anything will ever be the way it was before. Everything on the first floor is completely ruined.
So instead of who I really want, who I’d give anything to call, I tell Chaz, “Mia. We need to call Mia.” And so we do.
A while later, a man walks through the door, and even before Officer Jameson greets him by his last name, I can already tell he’s a Mayson. The genes in that family run strong.
“Call me Cobi,” he tells me as he holds out his hand for me to shake. “I’m Talon’s cousin. My aunt just called and said this was his girlfriend’s sister’s house, so here I am. We take care of our family.”
“I’m figuring that out,” I tell him. Having grown up in a broken home, no cousins, aunts, or uncles, it chokes me up that this big family is welcoming not only my sister, but me with open arms. First at the restaurant when Asher and Bax had my back with Mike, and now it seems the Mayson family cop is here to save the day as well.
He gets all the details from Officer Jameson, and I stand with Chaz’s arm wrapped around me as Cobi says absently, “Looks just like Talon and Bax’s build.”
“Do you think it’s related?” I ask, my eyes going wide.
He shrugs his wide shoulders. “Seems way too coincidental that this happened twice within weeks of each other. A place demolished but nothing stolen. And for the households to be closely linked. Can you think of anyone who would want to cause you harm? Anyone at all?”
I shake my head. “I mean, I’m going through a divorce, but Mike would never do something like this. And I don’t see him paying anyone to destroy the home when we’re about to put it on the market.”