Page 1 of Single Mom’s Undoing (Lucky Lady Reverse Harems #1)

CLARA

H e’s only four.

Still counts on his fingers.

Sleeps with a stuffed Iron Man.

Believes pancakes can fix anything.

And now Dr. Patel—the one who’s been here for every scan, every midnight phone call—is telling me he might not live to see his next birthday… unless a surgeon opens his tiny chest and saves him.

The air feels too clean.

The truth too cruel.

Across from me, Dr. Patel closes Matty’s file. Slowly. Carefully.

“Clara…” she says my name like she’s easing me into the worst part. “His heart won’t hold out much longer.”

The words hit like a sucker punch. My lungs forget how to breathe.

My throat burns, and I grip the chair until my knuckles ache.

Matty’s sleeping in the bed next to us, pale cheeks, lips with that faint blue tinge I hate. The monitor hums quietly beside him.

His hands are wrapped around his battered Iron Man plush, knuckles tight like it’s the thing holding him together.

“What are my options?” I manage to ask.

She leans forward, resting her forearms on her knees. “Surgery. Full bypass. Then recovery—physical therapy, then follow-up care.” She pauses, watching my face like she’s weighing every word.

My stomach twists. “I’ve got state insurance, but they said?—”

Her expression tightens. I can tell she hates this. “It won’t cover all of it. The surgery alone is six figures. Recovery, medications, equipment…” She exhales through her nose.

“You mentioned a family trust once?”

My stomach knots. I know where this is going, and the thought alone feels like opening a door I swore shut.

I nod. “My brother Stephan left it. But it’s in Blackthorn Falls, and the trustees require me to appear in person to claim it. No exceptions. His lawyer is… old-fashioned.”

“We’d operate tomorrow if we could,” she adds gently, “but until you’ve secured the funding, my hands are tied. You need to move quickly, Clara—weeks, not months.”

She hesitates. “Could you go back?”

Back.

Back to the town that buried my brother—and the secrets that nearly buried me with him.

“I left to protect my son,” I say quietly.

“I know,” she says. “But I also know you’ll do whatever it takes. And, Clara… this is what it takes.”

I look at Matty—those long lashes resting against flushed cheeks, his shallow breaths. I think about every night I’ve sat up holding him through coughing fits, every ER trip that ended with a pat on the arm and no real answers.

I’ve memorized every shade of his pain.

And I’m still not ready for this.

His fingers twitch.

His eyes flutter open.

“Momma?” It’s barely a whisper.

“I’m right here.” I get up and take his hand, curling mine around it like it’s the most precious thing in the world. I smooth his curls back. “You hungry?”

He nods. “Can I have pancakes when we go home?”

I make my voice light. “You can have a stack bigger than your head.”

He gives me a weak giggle, and I swear I want to hold on to that sound forever.

Then he looks up at me, those green eyes too wise for his age. “Did the doctor say I’m getting better?”

I glance at Dr. Patel. She gives me the smallest nod, letting me handle it.

“She said you’re strong,” I tell him. “And we’re going to take care of everything.”

“Good.” He closes his eyes. “I wanna play with the other kids soon. You promised.”

“I remember.”

I remember every promise. Every prayer. Every night I begged God for more time.

But now there’s only one way forward.

I have to go back.

Back to Blackthorn Falls.

Back to the cabin Stephan left me.

The night Stephan died, I saw something I can never unsee—something I’ve buried so deep I’m terrified of what will happen if it ever comes to light.

Now I have no option but to return.

Back to the three men I walked away from the night everything fell apart.

The ones who once made me feel like I belonged—until belonging turned into exile.

The ones I betrayed with silence.

I don’t know how I’ll face them.

But for Matty, I will do anything.

I’m his mother. His only shield.

And there’s nothing I wouldn’t burn to keep him breathing.

Not even the past I swore I’d leave behind.

Two days ago, Dr. Patel looked me in the eye and told me my son might not make it. That was all it took for the one place I swore I’d never return to become my only option.

I left Blackthorn Falls five years ago—pregnant, alone, and running for my life. Our lives.

Now I’m back—broke, terrified, and trying not to let Matty see me unravel. This time, I’m not just running.

I’m fighting like hell.

My brother’s cabin sits hidden behind a wall of old pine trees, guarding the eastern edge of town like sentinels. Halfway up the ridge, it overlooks the valley in silence.

And the view—God, it still guts me. The town is wrapped in forest and shadow, hugged by snow-capped peaks. Beautiful in a way that feels almost cruel.

“Momma, can I have more hot chocolate?” Matty asks.

“Of course, baby.” I top off his mug and slide in an extra marshmallow. “Don’t tell the cocoa police.”

He grins, sipping happily. I busy myself fixing his breakfast—scrambled eggs, waffles, just enough maple syrup to make him smile.

“Where’s Jodie?” he asks.

“Probably next door, having breakfast like us.”

Jodie’s been my neighbor and friend since we were kids. Now she’s the only person here I trust to watch Matty. She knows the basics of his condition, but not how bad it’s gotten. Not yet.

“She coming over today?”

“Later.” I watch him set his mug aside, curls falling over his forehead, green eyes bright—his father’s hair, my eyes. My miracle.

“Are you leaving again?”

“Just for a bit. I’ll be back before your nap. Scout’s honor.”

“Do I have to see the doctor again?”

The truth is yes, but I spare him. “Not anytime soon.”

“Okay.”

“You remember the drill if you have trouble breathing?”

He nods. “Code Blue.”

“That’s right. You tell me or Jodie. If you can’t talk, you point to your wrist. And if there are strangers?”

He tugs at the medical band on his wrist. “I show them this.”

“That’s right. And if Iron Man is around?”

“I show him too.” He giggles.

I kiss the top of his head, then pour myself another coffee, letting my gaze drift over the stretch of green outside our window.

When Stephan died, he left me his cabin—and a trust fund. I didn’t come back because I wanted to. I came back because Matty needs it.

“Will I really get better?” he asks, suddenly serious.

“One day,” I say with a smile I hope looks steady. “Soon enough.”

“And I can play with the other kids?”

“You will. And you’ll even go to kindergarten.”

His eyes light up. He’s only ever heard about kindergarten in cartoons. For a kid his age, he’s patient in a way no child should have to be. He’s never known anything else, but I see the longing for a normal life in every look.

“We’re almost there, baby. I promise.”

A knock at the door breaks the moment.

“Finish your breakfast,” I say, winking. “And no hiding waffles in your pockets this time.”

I head down the hallway, still holding onto the fragile hope that’s kept me moving these past two days. For the first time in years, it feels close enough to touch.

I open the door expecting Jodie—she’s early sometimes.

Instead, three men fill the porch. My brother’s best friends. My past.

Carter Lockwood stands in front, broad-shouldered and every bit as dangerous to my pulse as he was five years ago.

Jace Wilder and Damon Cross flank him like they never stopped moving as a unit—three walls closing in.

All former SEALs.

All muscle and intensity.

All staring at me like they can’t quite believe I’m real.

It’s been five years.

“What are you doing here?” My voice is low, careful, hoping Matty can’t hear.

Carter’s brow furrows. “Shouldn’t we be asking you that?”

His scent hits me—woodsmoke and something familiar enough to hurt. His blonde hair is longer, beard rougher, but those gray-blue eyes haven’t changed. They scan me like they’re searching for answers I’ll never give.

“It’s really you,” Jace says, his blue eyes cutting right through me. His hair is longer now, framing his face, making those cheekbones even sharper.

“Jace,” I breathe, then glance at Damon. Time’s been kind to him—just a few streaks of silver in his brown hair, his dark eyes as steady as ever. “Damon…you can’t be here.”

“We need to talk,” Carter says, his tone edged with command. “You owe us an explanation.”

“I can’t do this right now.”

The truth would wreck him. I made my choice years ago and learned to live with it. But these men never took no for an answer.

“We took care of Stephan’s place for you,” Jace says. “Jodie told you?”

“She did. Thank you. You didn’t have to.”

“Clara, you don’t get to sneak back into town without telling us,” Carter presses. “We deserve to know what happened.”

I shrug. “I’m sorry. There’s nothing to say. I had to go.”

“You couldn’t handle Stephan taking his own life,” Damon says flatly.

The blow lands, but I mask it. “You don’t know the half of it.”

“Then tell us,” Carter urges. “We’re listening.”

“I have nothing?—”

“Momma?”

Matty’s voice freezes all of us.

I turn. He’s in the hallway in his Iron Man pajamas, clutching his cocoa mug, eyes wide at the sight of three strangers.

The men stare past me, silent.

“We need to talk,” Carter says again, his voice lower now, but with the kind of finality that leaves no room for argument.

Fear coils in my stomach.