PART 5 – The First Time Lauren Had to Explain Herself to Someone Who Wasn’t Willing to Accept Her Usual Answers

The officer looked toward Lauren.

I stood a few feet away, trying to keep my face still.

She had just said Tommy fell in the bathroom.

It was the first explanation she had offered since arriving.

The officer asked her to explain what she meant.

Lauren adjusted the strap of her handbag.

She said Tommy had been in the bathroom when the accident happened.

I listened carefully.

I wanted to understand why she hadn't mentioned any of this when she dropped him off.

I also wanted to know why she had called him dramatic instead.

But I kept quiet.

The officer asked whether she had personally seen the fall.

Lauren paused.

It was brief.

Still, I noticed.

I had spent two years learning the small changes in her expression.

I knew when she was irritated.

I knew when she was pretending to be patient.

And I knew when she was choosing her words.

She looked toward the examination room.

Then she looked back at the officer.

I wanted someone to ask Tommy what had happened.

Not in a way that frightened him.

Not in a way that made him feel responsible for the adults around him.

I wanted him to be heard.

Lauren looked at me again.

Her expression suggested I had created this entire situation.

I recognized that look.

It had followed many of our conversations after the divorce.

Whenever I questioned something involving Tommy, she made the discussion about my motives.

If I asked why he seemed frightened, I was interfering.

If I asked why he didn't want to return, I was manipulating him.

If I said he needed help, I was making accusations.

That evening, I refused to play that part again.

I wasn't there to win an argument.

I was there because my son was receiving medical attention.

The officer continued speaking with Lauren.

I couldn't hear every word.

I didn't try to interrupt.

I watched the door.

A nurse came out and spoke briefly with another member of staff.

I immediately looked toward her.

I wanted an update.

She told me they were continuing their examination.

I thanked her.

Then I returned my attention to the hallway.

Lauren was still speaking.

Her handbag rested against her side.

Her jacket was the same one I had given her years earlier.

I remembered buying it.

I remembered thinking she would like it.

That memory felt strangely distant.

I no longer knew what to do with those old pieces of our life.

I only knew that the child inside that room needed both of us to put our differences aside.

But Lauren seemed more concerned about why I had called the police.

And I couldn't understand that.

Click here to continue reading: PART 6: The Questions I Had Been Afraid to Ask Finally Became More Important Than the Answers Lauren Wanted Everyone to Believe