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Kenneth didn’t hesitate. He looked down at the small boy in his arms, his son—the only thing in the world that mattered. Leaning down, he pressed a kiss to the boy’s soft dark curls, inhaling the warm, familiar scent that grounded him.

It was worth everything.

He met the judge’s gaze and nodded.

* * *

H ours later, Kenneth stood in his kitchen, the hum of the refrigerator and the soft sizzling from the skillet the only sounds that filled the space. He’d ordered a cab earlier to get them home and would need to purchase another car soon – a family car.

He chopped up grilled chicken, broccoli, and tater tots into small pieces; the weight of the day settled over him like a heavy fog. The food was meant to be for him and Zachary, though he knew he’d be doing most of the eating. Zachary, still too young to appreciate much beyond simple flavors, could at least nibble on a little bit of it—enough to keep him satisfied for the night. It was a small comfort, something he could control in a world that was quickly spiraling into unpredictability.

The phone rang, breaking his concentration, and Kenneth winced, his hand frozen mid-chop. He shifted the skillet off the burner, nudging it toward the center of the stove to prevent it from tipping over. He hoped—prayed, even—that it wasn’t Zachary’s nanny calling to quit after today’s fiasco.

She was a friend of Candi’s.

The mess Candi had left in her wake was enough to drive anyone to the brink of their patience. Kenneth felt his throat tighten as he remembered the finality of the divorce papers signed a year ago, and now he had custody as of a few hours ago. Everything had been finalized, and his car title was to be turned over to the lawyer tomorrow. And though it was official now, it didn’t make him feel any less heartbroken.

He was a single dad now— officially . Candi had sometimes taken Zachary for the occasional visit, but now it was different. She wasn’t going to show up with her bags of mixed promises and fleeting affection anymore. She wasn’t going to be the person who would step in when things got tough. Kenneth had to navigate this new reality alone, and he felt the weight of that responsibility settle deeper with each passing minute.

His thoughts were interrupted by the voice on the other end of the line.

“Hello?” he answered, his voice rough.

“Got time for me now?”

Kenneth sighed, rubbing his temple as a familiar tension crept into his shoulders. “Oh hey, Terry,” he muttered, mentally kicking himself for not returning the man’s call sooner. “What’s up? What’s this about a contract offer again?”

Terry’s voice on the other end was enthusiastic, though he could sense the weight of urgency in it. “So, there’s a secret hockey team about to be announced. They’ve got everything in the works, but they’re looking for you.”

“Okay,” Kenneth said, his hands still working at chopping the vegetables. “I told you I’m interested.”

Terry didn’t miss a beat. “You need to be a little more than interested, Ken.”

“Where’s it at?” Kenneth asked, his curiosity piqued despite his exhaustion.

“Quebec,” Terry answered.

“Interesting,” Kenneth muttered, his brow furrowing. He paused, sensing the gravity of the conversation.

“You didn’t pause at it being in Canada?” Terry drew out slyly, almost like he knew he had Kenneth’s agreement on the matter already.

“Nah,” Kenneth replied, his tone casual, though the edges of his thoughts were sharp with the weight of his responsibilities. “Let me tell you, I’m not keen on raising a kid in downtown Detroit.”

Terry let out a short laugh. “Detroit’s nice…”

“Yeah, it is,” Kenneth agreed, though his words felt hollow. “It’s really nice in certain places, but I need more than that – especially considering I’ve got sole custody now. I’m a little protective of my boy.”

A silence lingered for a moment before Terry spoke again, his voice softer. “So things are definitely off with Candi, huh? And you wouldn’t consider remarrying her?”

Kenneth’s grip on the knife tightened, the sharp metal biting into his hand, a physical manifestation of the emotional weight he carried. “I’d rather slice off my favorite appendage with a dull butter knife,” he muttered, the bitterness seeping into his words.

“I see,” Terry replied, not pushing the matter any further. “Well, that’s the nicest that I’ve heard something like that put.”

Kenneth felt his chest tighten as Zachary’s small, eager voice reached his ears, the sound of little cars racing on the kitchen floor. The simple joy of his son brought a sudden warmth to his heart, and he couldn’t help but smile despite the chaos of his thoughts. “My kid’s playing with his cars on the floor nearby, so I’m watching my mouth. I’m making dinner,” he said quietly.

“Well, I’ll make this quick then,” Terry said as if respecting the moment. “They’re only taking married hockey players to keep up a family, wholesome image. They want this to be a big thing, a team, a family. They’re talking about building a community for the players and their families—luncheons, get-togethers, all that. Everything you’d need.”

“But I have to be married?” Kenneth asked, his voice tight with the sudden frustration of it all.

“Yes. I’m afraid so.”

“Then I’m out,” he muttered firmly. “If that’s the deal, then it’s a no-go.”

“It’s a lot of money, Ken,” Terry pressed, his voice insistent.

Kenneth shook his head, glancing over at Zachary as the little boy hummed contentedly, lost in his imaginary world. The thought of remarrying Candi seemed absurd to him. The money didn’t matter, not in the way Terry seemed to think it did. “It would have to be all of the money in Fort Knox, and even then, I’d say ‘Heck No!’ to remarrying Candi.”

There was a pause before Terry spoke again, his voice a little quieter now. “What about someone else?”

“I don’t know anyone else,” Kenneth replied, frustration creeping in. “I’m not looking for someone else.”

Terry wasn’t finished yet. “There’s gotta be somebody…” he trailed off, sensing that Kenneth was distracted or thinking about what he was saying.

Kenneth paused, his eyes narrowing as he heard the soft footsteps of someone walking just outside his door . My neighbor , he thought, recognizing the familiar rhythm of her walk down the hall.

“Does that pause mean you know someone?” Terry asked, the curiosity obvious in his voice.

“It means my neighbor’s home,” Kenneth muttered, his thoughts shifting for just a moment. He wasn’t even sure why it bothered him. It wasn’t like he was going to ask her to marry him, but suddenly, the weight of everything seemed heavier.

Terry’s voice took on a teasing edge. “Is she single? Is she pretty? Marry her , buddy. Let’s get this done.”

Kenneth felt the burn of his frustration rise again. “Terry, look, man, I’ve got a lot going on, and?—”

“They really want you, Ken,” Terry interrupted, his tone almost pleading now. “I think it would be great for Zachary to be among other families, other children, and people who have the same interests. Can you imagine flying on a private jet to out-of-town games and getting to take Zachary with you? They’re all about family—hockey, the Stanley Cup, a team atmosphere. What better way to raise your son than in a wholesome place where he’ll be welcomed?”

Kenneth felt the pull of the idea, the warmth of the fantasy tugging at his heart, but the reality was still too sharp to ignore. His responsibilities as a father came first, and no amount of money or opportunity could change that.

“Let me think about this…” Kenneth said quietly, his gaze softening as he looked at Zachary, who had moved to the counter, his little hands busy with a pile of toy cars.

“Think quickly because they are moving fast,” Terry said and paused. “And she was sleeping with the captain.”

“You’re kidding me.”

“No. I’m sorry, but I thought you knew.”

“I didn’t.”

“I don’t mean to push so hard, but seriously, think about their offer… okay? Oh, and I need to know what size Zachary wears?”

“What size?”

“Yeah, they are so big on families – they will be sending him a teddy bear and his own hockey jersey with your number on it, in his size. Isn’t that sweet?”

Kenneth swallowed and looked at his son.

“A fresh start, a nice chunk of change, a new environment that puts family first… all for a little piece of paper. I mean, if you think about it, it could be someone you can tolerate who knows Zachary. Heck, just marry his nanny and do this for the both of you.”

“Lemme call you back,” Kenneth said hoarsely, his voice rough with the weight of something he couldn’t yet name.

“Sounds good,” came the soft reply on the other end of the line, and then the call ended with a quiet click that somehow echoed louder in his ears than it should have.

He stood still for a moment, the phone still in his hand, staring at the dark screen like it might offer him answers. But it didn’t. It never did. His chest felt tight like he’d been holding his breath without realizing it, and now he wasn’t sure how to let it go. His thoughts spun out fast—chaotic, loud, overlapping—and yet outside, the room remained silent, painfully calm in contrast.

A slow breath dragged out of him as he slid the phone into his pocket. He moved toward the food laid out before him, trying to go through the motions, to pretend like everything was normal. Making up his plate—something so simple, so automatic—felt strangely foreign now. His hands moved, but his mind was elsewhere, caught in the storm of too many emotions all crashing into each other.

When he went back to practice on Monday, the first thing he was going to do would be to talk to Mark, the center for the team that slept with his ex-wife. Just knowing that she slept around with his teammate hurt and embarrassed him - but apparently she was also sleeping with the captain of the team now, too?

He never thought of himself as a prideful person, but everyone had their limits… you know? It made him feel terrible, like a lesser man, because he couldn’t keep his wife happy, and she actually had the nerve to look to his team to select her next lover.

Eh… um … correction: Lover s .

Yeah, he had to make a change but doing so would require more than one.

A wife.

Marriage.

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” he whispered, staring at the food – and promptly lost his appetite. “Zach-Attack, buddy, are you hungry?”

“Pway?” his son asked, giving him a charming smile and holding up a car.

“Yeah, we’ll play in a minute. Do you want to go for a walk with Daddy?”

“Yeah!”

“C’mon, buddy. Daddy needs some fresh air – and a miracle.”