Page 60 of Redeeming Melodies

"Dad?" Tommy's voice came out small, almost lost beneath the sound of falling water. He pressed closer, his small body seeking comfort in that instinctive way kids do when their world feels too big. "I don't want to go back."

Five words. Five fucking words and my entire world tilted sideways. I'd heard Tommy say he didn't want to leave before - standard kid stuff, the natural protest against ending fun times. But this was different. His voice shook, carried something heavier than simple disappointment.

"Why's that, buddy?" I kept my hand steady as I brushed through his hair, even though my heart was trying to punch through my ribs. Stay calm. Stay fucking calm.

He didn't answer right away. Just pressed closer, his fingers twisting in my shirt like he used to do when he was little and scared of thunderstorms. When had my confident kid started needing anchors again?

"Mom's been bringing these people over." The words tumbled out like he'd been holding them back forever. "Boys I don't know. And they're not like you or Sheriff Jake. They don't even look at me. And then Mom goes out with them and I'm just... there."

Just there. My vision went red around the edges. Eight years old and he's "just there," like some fucking afterthought in his own home.

"And the nanny's always on her phone." Tommy's voice got even smaller. "She doesn't like when I ask questions or want to play. Says I need to learn independence."

Independence. Right. Because an eight-year-old needs to be fucking independent while his mother dates her way through Manhattan's eligible bachelors.

"Sometimes-" He stopped, burying his face against my chest. "Sometimes I pretend I'm with you instead.”

Jesus fucking Christ.

I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him into my lap like he was still five years old and the world could be fixed with hugs and band-aids. His shoulders shook, and fuck, when was the last time my kid felt safe enough to cry?

"Listen to me, Tommy." I pressed my face into his hair, breathing in that kid-shampoo smell that somehow survived all of Vanessa's attempts at fancy products. "You are seen. You are loved. You are the most important person in my whole world, you hear me?"

He nodded against my chest, but his fingers stayed twisted in my shirt.

"And you're not alone." The words burned coming out, knowing I'd have to leave him tomorrow. Knowing it would be a month before I could hold him like this again. "Even when we're apart, I'm thinking about you. Missing you. Loving you so much it hurts."

"But what if-" His breath hitched. "What if the new boys don't want me around? What if Mom forgets me again?"

"She doesn't forget you, buddy." The lie tasted like ash, but what choice did I have? Can't trash talk your kid's mother, nomatter how much she deserves it. "She just gets... distracted sometimes."

"Like you did with racing?"

"Yeah." My voice cracked. "Like I did with racing. But you know what I figured out?"

He pulled back enough to look at me, tears making those green eyes shine. "What?"

"That nothing - not racing, not winning, not anything in the whole world - matters more than you." I touched his chin, making sure he saw the truth in my eyes. "That's why I stopped. That's why we're making a home here. Because you deserve to be someone's whole world."

"But Mom-"

"Your mom loves you." Another necessary lie. "She just shows it differently. And sometimes grown-ups mess up, get lost in their own stuff. But that's not your fault, okay? Never your fault."

The falls kept their steady rhythm, nature's heartbeat mixing with my son's quiet sniffles. Tommy stayed curled in my lap, too big for it really, but neither of us cared.

"I wish-" He stopped, like he wasn't sure he was allowed to wish anymore.

"What, buddy? You can tell me anything."

"I wish we could stay here forever." His voice steadied slightly. "With the falls and the hermit crabs and Sheriff Jake making pancakes. Where everything feels right."

My eyes burned. One month. One fucking month without this.

"We'll have that again." I promised, meaning every word. "The house will be ready soon, and then you'll have your own room with an ocean view. We'll build that treehouse, make friends with all the hermit crabs."

"And Sheriff Jake will visit?"

Something warm unfurled in my chest despite everything. "Yeah, sport. Jake can visit whenever you want."

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