Conflicted (The Existing Series Book 2) by A.M. Guilliams Page B

you’re selfish. You’re being…” I cut myself off before I finished that statement. I was just about to say something I couldn’t take back. Something hateful. And that wasn’t me. Regardless of the circumstances, I’d never use those tactics to get what I wanted. No matter how much they were deserved.
    “For once in my life, I’m being anything but selfish. You’ll understand one day, Weston. One day you’ll see that I did what was best for everyone involved. No matter how much no one else gets my reasoning, I do, and I don’t see any other choice but to walk away,” she said, still not lifting her head or opening her eyes to face me.
    I refused to cause a scene. Refused to give in to my anger. Instead, I turned and walked back to my side of the room. If this was what she honestly wanted, she’d get it. Tenfold. My daughter was all that mattered.
    The judge came back into the room minutes later and my anger had yet to subside. It only grew with each passing second. I needed that punching bag. Sooner rather than later.
    “All rise,” the bailiff stated. We all complied and were told to be seated after the judge sat down.
    “I didn’t come to this decision lightly. If there were any other extenuating circumstances, I’d have decided differently. Grace Corbin was my only concern, as it should be. No child deserves to be parentless regardless of the reasoning behind leaving. While I do understand the reason that Ms. Campbell provided, I don’t agree with it. But that’s neither here nor there. Mr. Corbin has provided sufficient information regarding the welfare of the child. He’s shown that he’s a responsible, loving parent, which made this decision all too clear for me. I’ve decided to award sole custody to Mr. Corbin and relinquish the parental rights of Ms. Campbell effective immediately,” the judge responded, hitting the gavel against the bench to end the hearing.
    My emotions were all over the place. While I was happy that this chapter of my life was over, sadness loomed in the background for what Grace had lost. What we’d both lost.
    I looked over to Mackenzie one last time as I stood, shook my head, and walked away. No more words needed to be spoken. She could have kept the reasoning to herself. We didn’t need it. Not really. We were moving on just fine without her and we’d continue to do so. When Grace was old enough, if she wanted to, I’d let her seek her mother out and ask her why. I’d be both mother and father until my last dying day on earth.
    I got all the way to my truck before the finality of our situation hit me full force, almost knocking me to my knees. Who was I kidding? I cared. Way too much. More than I cared to admit. But that didn’t matter. My feelings didn’t matter.
    I unlocked the truck with the key fob and hopped inside. One destination on my mind. My parents’ house. I had a bright-eyed, brown-haired beauty waiting on me. With cookies. And I couldn’t wait to wrap my arms around her and hear her laugh. The only medicine I’d ever need to cure any ailment I had. That and the punching bag that waited for me each evening.

Chapter 9
    T his morning I woke up filled with anger. I had to get the feelings out before everyone else woke up or I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to contain them and lash out at an unintended target. So I grabbed my sweats and went in search of the one solace that I’d found helped keep the anger at bay.
    The punching bag in the basement.
    It was worn and tethered from years of abuse, but it still held strong and withstood my heated sessions. I’d need a new one soon, but for now this worked just fine.
    I put on the gloves, and as I stood in front of the bag ready to take that first hit, I pictured all of the reasons for the feelings that had welled up inside of me.
    My pride was the reason I couldn’t admit them out loud.
    I didn’t want to have to face that I missed her.
    My arm moved on its own accord and my fist connected with