I had no idea how much our lives would alter when my husband’s best buddy, Brian, stopped by for a laid-back family meal. However, our daughter stopped talking after that night, and as the time passed without any word, we discovered a terrible treachery that destroyed her innocence.
I’m still struggling to make sense of what transpired. It could help if I put it in writing. Perhaps someone will sympathize with me or let me know that I’m not insane for feeling this way.
A family supper was the first event. Like so many times before, Tom’s best friend Brian was coming over. Since middle school, Brian and Tom had been almost brothers and couldn’t be apart.
Every significant and insignificant event in our life had Brian by our side. He had his toolbox on hand in case something needed to be fixed. He was always there with a cooler and a smile when we held a barbecue. He was family, not just a buddy.
Our daughter Emily loved him. Every time he came over, she would virtually bounce with excitement and run to the door. She would put her tiny arms around his legs and yell, “Brian! Brian!” with bright, wide eyes. Every time he laughed, he would pick her up.
“Hey, kiddo,” he would say with a smile and a friendly noogie. “How’s my favorite girl?”
Pizza, laughter, and catching up were the only things that seemed unusual that evening. I contacted Brian to come get the dinner because Tom was running late from work. He entered smiling broadly, clutching a tiny present bag in one hand and balancing two pizza boxes in the other.
Saying, “Look what Uncle Brian brought,” he gave Emily the bag. There was a tiny stuffed puppy inside. Emily’s gaze brightened.
She cried out, “Thank you!” and gave the toy a hug. “I love him!”
Brian ruffled her hair and laughed. “I thought you might, kiddo.”
We talked about trivia as we sat down to eat. We all laughed when Brian told his typical jokes. Emily stayed by his side, asking him all kinds of questions.
“Why do dogs have tails?”
With a smile, he replied, “To wag when they’re happy,”
“Why don’t cats have big tails like dogs?”
That’s because cats are cunning, I see. He said, “They don’t need ’em as much,” which made Emily laugh.
I discovered we had run out of drinks as we were wrapping up. Since Tom was still not here, I looked at Brian.
“Do you mind staying with Emily for a few minutes while I run to the store?”
Brian waved a hand and shrugged. “Obviously not. We’ll be all OK, so go ahead.”
“Thank you. I grabbed my keys and said, “I’ll be back in ten minutes.” I was confident Emily was in capable hands. After all, Brian was virtually family.
Brian was near the door when I returned, and he looked… strange. He didn’t seem like himself; he seemed stiff, almost nervous. He reached for his coat and hardly gave me a glance.
“Everything alright?” I frowned as I asked.
“Yeah, yeah,” he responded hastily, avoiding eye contact. “I simply—well, something happened. You have to run. Inform Tom that I will see him later.
He barely waited for me to say goodbye before leaving. I dismissed the peculiar cold I felt. Brian was the one. I had never before had any cause to question him.
Everything changed after that night. My vivacious, chatty daughter Emily fell silent.
I didn’t give it much thought at first. Children have days off. Perhaps she was worn out or angry by Brian’s abrupt departure. However, she was still silent the following day.
She didn’t speak during breakfast and didn’t even look up when I placed her favorite waffles on the table. She simply shrugged or glanced down, her fingers making tiny circles on her plate, when I tried to elicit her with a question or a story.
“Emily, honey,” I said softly, “has something angered you? Has anything happened to Brian?
She only stared at me, tears welling up in her large, sorrowful eyes, then shook her head and left for her room.
Tom also made an effort to speak with her. “Em, sweetie, you know you can tell Daddy anything, right?” He lowered himself to her eye level and nudged.
With her lips pulled firmly together, Emily simply nodded. As if it were the only thing keeping her together, she held on to the tiny plush animal that Brian had given her. I attempted to dismiss it as a passing phase or even a delayed response to a nightmare. However, a mother is able to recognize when anything is truly amiss.
I realized it wasn’t a phase on the third day. Seeing my once vibrant little kid retreat into herself broke my heart. She refused to visit the park. She had no desire to play or color. “Yes,” “no,” and “fine” were the only words she used when speaking, as if she was scared to say more.
Tom and I started to fear that something horrible had occurred. We took her to the pediatrician, who examined her hearing, eyesight, and all of her tests.
Everything was as usual. We then saw a child therapist, but after a few sessions, the therapist pulled us aside and said they were unable to determine Emily’s reasons for withdrawing into quiet.
Months passed, and Emily was still not the same person she had been. Although she went through the motions, she never spoke more than was necessary. It was as though she had locked herself in a realm that neither Tom nor I could access, despite our best efforts to persuade her to open up. A strange, unsaid anguish engulfed our lives.
Then, after five arduous months, Emily finally spoke one morning. She glanced up at me with wide, terrified eyes as I buckled her into her car seat and prepared to drive her to school.
With her voice barely audible, she muttered, “Will you leave me there forever?”
I felt as though I had been punched in the chest by her comments. “What? Why would you say that, Emily? My voice broke as I asked.
Her bottom lip trembled. “I’m not really yours,” Brian stated. You’re going to abandon me like my biological parents did, he said.
My heart broke. I was fighting back tears and could feel the blood dripping from my face. When Emily was old enough to comprehend, Tom and I had always intended to inform her that she was adopted in a loving and safe manner.
I said, “Emily, listen to me,” while attempting to level my voice. “We own you. Nothing compares to how much we love you. Brian made a mistake by saying such things. We wouldn’t abandon you. Never.”
She gave me a slow nod after looking into my eyes for something to cling to. Although her shoulders loosened slightly, the hesitation was still visible in her expression. I told Tom everything when he got home that evening. He was enraged and indignant, but we were both more concerned with Emily’s healing.
Emily then started talking again, albeit slowly at first, and I could still sense that she was afraid. I attempted to contact Brian. He didn’t respond. Every text message and phone call was ignored. After several months, it seemed as though Brian had completely disappeared from our lives. We had no idea where he was anymore, but Tom wanted to face him head-on.
Then, unexpectedly, I received a message from him one evening. “Is it possible for us to meet? I must give an explanation.
I consented to meet him against Tom’s better judgment. I required clarification. Brian appeared to have been through hell when I first saw him; he was thinner, exhausted, and his face had been hollowed out by something I couldn’t identify.
When we sat down, he muttered, “I’m sorry,” in a voice that was almost audible above a whisper. “I never meant to hurt her… or you.”
“Then why, Brian?” My voice was tinged with the months of confusion and rage as I asked. “Why would you tell her that?”
He inhaled nervously. He looked down and remarked, “I discovered I was adopted that day.” “Just prior to my arrival. I was never told by my parents. I have always believed that they are my biological parents. And then, suddenly, I discover they’re not. I was broken by it.
I was dumbfounded when I looked at him. “So you made the decision to harm Emily? To subject a youngster to that?”
His face twisted. “My reasoning wasn’t clear. She was simply so trusting and naïve. I have no idea why I said it. I was… Lost in my own suffering, I reasoned that perhaps… Perhaps she should be aware of the reality before it’s too late, but I’m not sure.
Hardly able to look at him, I shook my head. “She’s seven, Brian. She’s only a kid. When the moment was appropriate, we told her the truth—not yours.
“I understand. Since then, I’ve been punishing myself for it daily. I’m not asking for your forgiveness, but I just I had to let you know. I apologize.
I felt empty after the meeting, carrying a grief that would not go away. Brian wasn’t a bad person. His anguish had destroyed my daughter’s naive faith in the world, and he was broken. The reality that we still had to pick up the pieces, however, remained unchanged.
He hasn’t been in touch since that day. Even though Emily is improving, she still has a part of her that questions and hesitates.
.jpg)