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CHAPTER

TWENTY-FIVE

REECE

I hadn’t been back to the Arlington house in months, not since the funeral. I used to think that if I didn’t see it, I wouldn’t feel the hole my mom left behind. But stepping inside now, with Bree next to me, that logic didn’t hold up. The ache was still there. So was the warmth.

The place still smelled faintly like Pine-Sol and lemons—my mom’s go-to cleaning duo.

Her little ceramic pig still sat on the kitchen counter, grinning like it had secrets.

I’d grown up in this house. Learned to skate at the community rink three blocks over.

Lost my first tooth on the back porch steps.

Gotten the call that I’d been drafted in this living room. She’d screamed louder than I had.

Bree didn’t say much as we walked from room to room. She just held my hand while I picked through the things I wanted to keep—a framed photo of the two of us on the beach. I might’ve been six. My old team jacket from junior hockey. The clay handprint from like kindergarten.

We packed everything I couldn’t part with.

The rest? I hired a company to clear out.

The furniture, her clothes—those went to shelters, women’s centers, places where they’d matter.

My mother had spent her life giving, and I couldn’t imagine doing it any other way.

She’d have hated seeing her things just collecting dust in storage.

The house hit the market on a Wednesday and by Friday, we had three offers. One of them came in over asking. Apparently, being the childhood home of Baker Reece came with perks. It made the goodbye bittersweet, but I felt… lighter. Like I could finally take a breath.

The Copperheads were deep in the playoffs, but during downtime between games, we signed papers, said goodbyes, and made peace with the past.

When I finally landed back in town after a brutal away series, Bree and I drove straight to our lawyer’s office. Claudia kept Benny for us—he’d been extra sensitive lately, like he could feel the stress humming through the house.

We sat at the polished conference table, waiting.

Dane walked in wearing a too-tight suit and that same smug sneer he’d had the night I choked him out at Slits. His lawyer looked more tired than anything. I didn’t blame him. He was about to find out exactly who he was up against.

My lawyer, top family attorney in the country, didn’t waste time. “Let’s get to it.”

I slid the envelope across the table. “Seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars. Lump sum. You drop all current suits, relinquish all parental rights to Benny, and agree to never contact me, Bree, or our son ever again.”

Dane’s mouth opened, probably to throw some garbage insult my way, but his lawyer clapped a hand on his arm.

“We’ll need a moment.”

They stepped out.

I turned to Bree, who sat stiff and silent beside me and took her hand. “No matter what happens, I’ve got you.”

She nodded, but her eyes were glassy. “I just want this over.”

Twenty minutes passed before the door opened again. Dane’s expression was tight. Resentful. But also resigned .

He signed.

So did we.

My lawyer was already dialing the adoption team as we left the building. It was done. Benny was ours. And nothing that son of a bitch did could ever touch him again.

That night, we didn’t throw a party. We didn’t celebrate with champagne. We curled up on the couch, Benny in my lap with his headphones on, watching cartoons while Bree pressed herself against my side and cried silent tears of relief. That moment? That was everything.

The Copperheads lost the last game of the series a few weeks later.

No Stanley Cup race this year. We all had a lot going on.

Not just me. Bonner tried to hide it, but he was spiraling.

Winstead and Chesney were going through it too.

It hurt—but not the way it used to. I had bigger things in my life now. Better things.

Given I still had a wedding to pay for, it was good contract negotiations came before the loss.

And with my image upgrade, I had sponsors contacting me every other day.

I was due to film my first ever commercial next month.

For pizza. The guys gave me shit about that.

Bishop was hocking Dior cologne and I was shoveling Dominos down my throat.

Whatever. If it meant a secure life for my family, I’d take it.

But with all the shit, I wasn’t expecting what my teammates had pulled together.

It was Copperheads Day in Charleston. They held a parade for us and a big rally that we all attended. They threw us a giant party, where the public was all welcome. Lights and dancing.

I’d already been a mess on the inside when my family joined me on a float during the parade portion.

The arena opened up. No ice on the floor tonight. As the crowd funneled inside, Bishop and Jones pulled me toward the stage set up with the DJ booth, lights and giant speakers. The kind you’d find at a rock concert .

“What the hell are we doing?” I asked. “Requesting a song? What? Are we twenty?”

“Just shut up and stand here,” Bishop muttered, grinning.

His lips started moving like he was counting down, even though it was soundless. Then the jumbo screen lit up with a montage—photos and clips of my mom . Her volunteering, hugging kids after games, standing next to me with her arms crossed and that proud smile she’d worn like armor.

Then the logo appeared.

The Charlotte Reece Children First Foundation

I blinked. “What…?”

Jones clapped my back. “We expanded the benefit. It started as help for families in the low country, but it grew. Therapy, education, food, support services—you name it. For kids. Across the United States. We’re launching it tonight.”

I couldn’t speak. I barely kept my knees from buckling.

“Your mom didn’t just raise you,” Bishop added quietly. “She made us all better. We figured it was time to return the favor.”

The crowd stood. Heads tilted to take in the montage. Bree was crying again, her mouth covered with her hand. Benny clapped along like he knew this was important.

And it was.

I’d lost a lot over the years. Fought through grief and anger and fear.

But in the end, I got everything that mattered.

I got my family.

And I got to carry my mother’s legacy forward—in the name of the woman who’d raised me, with the woman I was going to marry at my side.