Page 69 of Redeeming Melodies

Vanessa opened the door in some silk bathrobe that probably cost more than most people's monthly rent. Her hair was perfectly styled even at this ungodly hour - probably had been up since dawn getting camera-ready for whatever society event she'd got planned.

"You're late." No hello, no warmth for our kid who was clearly falling apart. Just that clipped tone that said I'd somehow already fucked up her precisely scheduled day.

"Morning to you too." I managed to keep my voice level, mostly because Tommy's grip on my hand had gone death-tight. "His homework's in the front pocket of his backpack. All done, just needs to be turned in."

She reached for Tommy like he was a package being delivered. "I think I can handle my own son's school requirements."

Your own son. Right. Because you've been so fucking present lately.

"Dad?" Tommy's voice cracked on that single word, and something in my chest splintered.

"Hey." I crouched down to his level, not giving a shit about Vanessa's irritated sigh behind me. "Remember what we talked about? This is temporary. Just a pit stop, like in racing. Sometimes you need to refuel before the next lap."

His chin wobbled but he nodded, trying so hard to be brave it physically hurt to watch. "Will you call? Every night?"

"Try and stop me." I pulled him in for one last hug, memorizing everything about this moment - his heartbeat against mine, the way his fingers clutched my shirt, how he still smelled like Jake's laundry detergent and morning dew from our garden exploration.

"That's enough." Vanessa's voice cut through our bubble. "Tommy needs to get ready for his tutor."

Of fucking course. Not even ten minutes back and she was already scheduling the joy out of his life.

"I've got my cell." I told Tommy as he slowly backed toward his mother. "Any time, day or night. You need me, you call. Promise?"

He nodded again, tears finally spilling over. Vanessa's hand landed on his shoulder - perfectly manicured nails digging in slightly, urging him inside.

"The court will be very interested to hear about this move to... wherever it is you're hiding these days." Her smile could cut glass. "Quite impulsive, don't you think?”

The rage that flooded my system was familiar - same shit I used to feel before a big race, that need to prove everyone wrong burning in my veins. But I'd learned some things since leaving the circuit. Like how sometimes the best fuck you was staying calm.

"Oakwood Grove." I met her eyes steadily. "That's where we're living. Where Tommy will have a real home, not just some showcase apartment. Where he can be himself instead of whatever perfect prop you're trying to mold him into."

Something flickered across her face - doubt maybe, or recognition that she wasn't holding all the cards anymore. But then Tommy sniffled and her mask snapped back into place.

"We'll see what the judge thinks about that." She started closing the door, already dismissing me. "I'll have my lawyer contact yours about visitation schedules once this... phase of yours passes."

The door clicked shut with finality, leaving me alone in a hallway that cost more per square foot than most houses in Oakwood Grove. Through the wood, I could hear Tommy'smuffled crying and Vanessa's sharp voice telling him to pull himself together.

My fist connected with the wall before I realized I was moving. The pain felt good, real, something to focus on besides the hole in my chest where my kid should be.

The walk back to my car passed in a blur. Tommy was already texting - a string of heart emojis because words were too hard right then. Each one hit like a punch to the gut.

Sitting in the parking garage, engine idling, I finally let myself break. The sobs came hard and fast, ripping through my chest like they'd been waiting all morning.

The steering wheel was wet where my head rested against it. One month. Seven hundred and twenty hours without Tommy's laugh. Without pancake breakfasts and bedtime stories and the simple joy of watching my kid bloom in a place that saw him.

Forty-three thousand two hundred minutes of pretending I wasn't falling for a small-town sheriff who made everything feel possible.

My phone kept buzzing. Tommy's emoji hearts kept coming, each one a tiny lifeline saying I wasn't forgotten yet.

But right then, I just needed to drive. Needed to put miles between me and this city that kept trying to break us. Needed to get back to quiet streets and ocean views and maybe, just maybe, figure out what the hell I was going to do about the man who'd turned my whole world upside down with one kiss under the stars.

One month.

I can survive anything for a month.

My hands knewthe way to the track like they knew the shape of a steering wheel - muscle memory built from years of finding refuge in speed. Funny how the one place that used to be all about winning now felt like my only shot at staying sane.

The security guard did a double-take when I pulled up. Probably wondering if the rumor mill was true, if Elliot Blue really did lose his mind and give up racing for some small town life. But he waved me through anyway. Perks of being a former champion - your crazy got labeled as "eccentric" instead of "unstable."

---