Page 113 of Branded (Breakers Hockey)

Forty-Two

Jules

“Can you put those books in the box, bud?” I asked over my shoulder, wanting to finish up the packing before Lake came over, sneaking up from D.C. before the Sierra played the home team there the next night.

It had been two months since that night in the rink with Nate and Lake and my surprise gone very, very wrong.

And, though it had kept me up at night—seeing Nate, seeing his mean , watching him walk away and worrying that he was going to muster up that mean again and turn it on me and Ethan—I hadn’t heard from Nate.

Nothing.

Not for seven full days.

Then, finally, exhaustion had overtaken me, and I’d gotten my first full night of sleep in a week…and I’d woken up the next morning to an email from my attorney asking if I would be home the next day because she needed to overnight me some papers.

Papers that had been drawn up by Nate’s attorney.

Papers relinquishing custody and parental rights…and included in the paperwork, hidden at the back of a stack was a check for all the back child support he hadn’t wanted to pay.

But what had made my heart squeeze hard was the trust.

He’d set up a trust for Ethan.

For school. For a future. For whatever he might need.

I would be the custodian until he was twenty-five. And then it was Ethan’s.

I’d cried and Cas had held me, and though the cruelty and the struggle of the last years hadn’t been erased, I had begun to remember some of the good parts.

Like sitting at the rink, watching a game, Nate at my side and talking about dreams.

Like Nate telling me about promises and how they were meant to be kept and how I’d told Ethan that same thing so many times over the years that I’d forgotten where I’d gotten it from.

Like the care he’d taken with my body when I’d first given myself to him.

Like the way he’d buy me a pretzel or a drink or a meal when I had no money and was hungry and had lied about wanting something.

All of that had been lost in the hurt and heartbreak and the bad times, and maybe I wouldn’t ever be able to forgive him, wouldn’t be able to see the boy I’d fallen in love with, but I had remembered some of the good. And remembering that good had soothed something in me.

I’d finally slept.

Because I hadn’t picked quite so badly.

I could trust myself.

I—

“Okay, Mom!” Ethan called back.

I blinked, tucked the past away, but when Cas ran his knuckles over my cheek, I knew that later that night, he would coax my thoughts out of me, would get me to talk it out.

Because he’d done it more than once over the last weeks.

Because he cared about every part of me.

Even if he would never find any good about Nate fucking Miller.

“Gorgeous,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “My gorgeous, gorgeous woman.”

He wasn’t talking about the outside—though, thankfully, he liked the package I came in (because I really liked his package). But I understood now that he was talking about what he saw inside me—a light that continued growing brighter every day because I was loved and secure and happy.

It was the same light I was watching grow in Ethan.

My boy, who was so freaking excited we were moving in with Cas.

“I’ll help him,” Mary said softly, and hell if my eyes didn’t tear up. Again. Even though Mary and I had cried plenty over the last few days.

I was going to miss my friend.

Mary had become family and?—

I sniffed.

“Oh no,” Mary said, her eyes going glassy and shaking her head at me. “I can’t function if you do that.”

“I’m okay,” I croaked, waving a hand in front of my face.

“I’ll only be fifteen minutes away,” Mary said. “And I’ll still be babysitting. And we’ll have time to hang out now that you’re not working full time at CeCe’s.”

I was still working, and probably always would.

I needed to feel secure in my ability to provide for myself, for Ethan.

But when the new semester had approached and Cas had suggested that Ethan and I move in with him so I could pick up a few extra classes, he’d done it telling me that he loved me and that he was sick of the two houses bullshit.

Then he’d done it, reminding me that I had him and Nonna JoJo and Ace, Kathy, Sam, and Margot, and Mary (not to mention Beth, Hazel, Pru, and Kailey and Smitty and Raph and Oliver and even Theo).

He’d gently reminded me that I wasn’t alone any longer.

That I had a family and a support system, and I could lean on them so as “not to be in school for the next decade.”

It made sense.

I wanted that future.

I wanted that family.

I’d still talked to Ethan first. But considering that Cas had done up a guest room for him weeks before, taking Ethan to Target and letting him pick the sheets and bedspread and lamp and beanbag and bookshelf—basically kitting out Ethan’s room into an epic Minecraft slash hockey slash Squishmallow-filled spaced, Ethan hadn’t been a hard sell.

Then I’d looked at the class schedule, had gotten excited, and had signed up for all the classes.

I’d thought Matt would be angry when I asked to reduce my hours.

But my boss—who’d struggled and struggled and eventually found his own happiness—had just cupped my jaw, looked deeply into my eyes, and wished me all the best.

“It’s only fifteen minutes,” I agreed with Mary now, mostly because if I didn’t, Mary and I would turn into sobbing messes. Again.

Partly because I was so freaking happy.

Partly because this was a big change.

Partly because we’d been reduced to sobbing messes several times already that morning.

“Yup.” Mary sniffed, her eyes still glassy.

My vision blurred and the sobbing messes probably would have made a reappearance if not for the knock on my apartment door.

“I’ve got it!” Pounding feet echoing down the hall.

“Look out the window first,” I called.

A hitch in those footsteps. Then, “It’s Lake!”

More light. More bright.

“Go,” Mary ordered softly. “I’ll finish this box up and then I need to go study.”

So bright that I needed sunglasses.

I hugged my friend, whispered, “Fifteen minutes,” and then ignored both of our sniffles as I snagged the hand Cas extended, let him pull me to my feet.

He trailed me to the door, murmuring that he’d go back to packing the kitchen and let me hang with my old friend.

Giving me space to rebuild our relationship.

Shit .

I sniffed again.

I just loved him so much.

“Lake,” Cas said by way of greeting since Ethan had opened the front door and was showing Lake inside. He kissed the top of my head, started to turn away.

Then he froze. “What?”

The barked-out question had my gaze focusing on Lake instead of my son, who had stolen my attention because he was being fucking cute, standing there in the hallway, hopping from foot to foot in his excitement.

I concentrated on Lake’s face, took in his expression, his eyes…and the light inside me dimmed.

“What is it?” I whispered.

Lake came to me, wrapped me in big, strong arms, and whispered softly in my ear. “I’m sorry, babe, but it’s your dad.”