Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 73842 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73842 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
“Yeah, me too. However, what’s worse is that this place is better than where they were. This gives them structure, stability, a safe place to lay their head and food in their bellies,” she says sadly.
“You’re doing good work here, Reese.”
She shrugs. “I’m their social worker. It’s my job to look out for what’s best for them.”
“I agree, but you went above and beyond today. No one before you has ever taken their own time to plan something like this for them.”
“You were a hit,” she says, ignoring my compliment.
“We make a good team.”
She smiles up at me. “Yeah, we really do.”
Reaching out, I entangle my fingers with hers and lead her to her car. With a quick peck on the lips, I promise to see her at home.
Home.
Reese is my home.
Chapter 12
Reese
Reaching for my coffee cup, I find it empty. With a heavy sigh, I toss it into the trash can and debate on running out to grab another. I’m exhausted. It’s been a long day. When my phone rang at four this morning, I knew it wouldn’t be good. It never is in my line of work. Cassie, a little girl who just turned six, was removed from her home. This is the third time she’s been removed, and this time there were signs of abuse.
I wasn’t working for the county the first time she was removed, but I was there the second during my internship. Luckily, we were able to place her in foster care. Her parents did the required rehab, and she got to go home. This time, I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I have to wonder when is enough enough? When does the court system not see that this isn’t what’s best for her, to be bounced around?
I’ve been trying to place her in foster care all day, but I don’t have any families who can take her on. Not yet. There are many who are in training, but there just are not enough foster families to love and care for these kids. It breaks my heart.
Glancing at the clock, I see it’s already five o’clock. I’ve done all that I can do today, and it’s time to go home. I don’t need more caffeine. I need sleep. Lots and lots of sleep. Saving the court document I was working on, I close down my computer, and instead of packing up and bringing work home with me, I leave it all here. I need a night without it. I just need… to decompress from the sadness of the day.
I work for the county, but my office is in the children’s home. Normally, I go and say goodbye to all the kids, pass out some hugs. I know I’m breaking the cardinal rule to not get attached, but I can’t seem to prevent it. It’s not in me to not care about these kids. That’s the huge part of my frustration with my job. I don’t feel as though I’m making a difference. Instead, I feel like a hamster on a wheel, just going through the motions. Just like Cassie. This is her third time being pulled from her home. Third time. I know we want to keep families together, but is that really what’s best for her if that’s the kind of environment she’s living in? I’m conflicted and disappointed in our system.
I’m unlocking my car when my phone rings. Stopping, I dig it out of my purse and see Cooper’s face smiling at me. “Hey,” I greet him, unlocking the car and tossing my purse into the passenger seat.
“How’s your day going?”
“Don’t ask.”
“That bad?” he asks.
“Unfortunately.” Not like it’s news to him. He’s texted me a few times today, checking on me, asking me if I needed him to bring me anything. “Just one of those days,” I say, starting the car and blasting the air conditioning. It’s hot as hell for May.
“I’ve got dinner covered, just text me when you’re on your way home so I can put it in the oven.”
“I just got in my car.”
“Perfect. I’ll put it in now. Drive safe. I’ll see you when you get home.”
“Yeah,” I agree. “I’m on my way.”
“Reese?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you,” he says, and the line goes dead.
He didn’t give me a chance to say it back. Not that I was going to. Sure, I want to. It’s getting harder and harder to not tell him, but I don’t want to do it like this. On a day that’s been complete shit. That’s not how I want to remember it. He knows I never stopped loving him. I told him that. However, I’ve yet to say the words. I’ve been holding back when it comes to declaring that I love him. Saying I never stopped and saying the three words I know he longs to hear are two completely different things. I feel as though after all this time, it needs to be the right moment. A small blip of time in our universe he will never forget. He deserves that, after all my waiting and uncertainty.