Chapter 25 Koda
TWENTY-FIVE
KODA
The cabin door closes behind Charlotte with a soft click. I stand at the kitchen window, watching her car disappear down the gravel driveway, each breath sending fresh stabs of pain through my ribs.
Moving hurts. Breathing hurts. Everything hurts.
But the physical pain is nothing compared to what’s going on inside my head.
Twenty years of friendship with Jason, gone in an instant.
All because I fell in love with his daughter.
I turn away from the window and wince as my body protests.
The morning’s woodchopping session probably wasn’t the smartest move. But I needed to do something, anything, to work through the chaos in my mind. I lift my shirt and examine the damage in the reflection of the microwave door. Purple bruises spread across my torso like storm clouds.
Jason always did have a mean right hook.
The coffee maker gurgles to life after I fill it, the familiar sound oddly comforting in a world that’s suddenly turned upside down. I lean against the counter, taking shallow breaths to minimize the pain in my ribs.
A car engine rumbles up the driveway. I move to the window, squinting through my one good eye.
Dana’s sleek sedan pulls up beside my truck.
Great.
Just what I need right now.
The front door opens without a knock. Dana never was big on announcing herself.
“Koda? You here?” Her heels click against the hardwood floor as she makes her way into the kitchen. She stops dead when she sees my face. “Goddammit.”
I shrug, immediately regretting the movement as pain lances through my side. “You should see the other guy.”
“Very funny.” Dana drops her designer purse on the counter and approaches me, businesslike efficiency in every step. Her hands come up to frame my face, turning it gently to examine the damage. “Jason did this?”
“Who else?” I pull away from her inspection and grab two mugs from the cabinet. “Coffee?”
“I didn’t drive all the way up here for your mediocre coffee.” Dana follows me as I move around the kitchen. Her eyes catalog every wince, every careful movement. “Have you seen a doctor?”
I pour the coffee and ignore her question. “Why are you here, Dana?”
She accepts the mug I offer her. “I’m here because apparently, the entire beauty school witnessed Jason Palmer beating his best friend to a pulp yesterday.”
“Former best friend.” I take a careful sip of coffee, the hot liquid stinging my split lip. “And I’m fine.”
Dana narrows her eyes. “You’re not fine. You can barely move. You should be in a hospital getting those ribs checked.”
“I don’t need a hospital.” I gesture to the kitchen table, a solid piece of pine I made with my own hands years ago. “Sit.”
Dana takes a seat and crosses her legs. She watches me lower myself carefully into the chair across from her. Her gaze is too knowing, too perceptive.
It’s always been impossible to hide anything from my sister.
“Where’s Charlotte?” Dana asks, settling back in her chair.
“She went to pick up her trophy from the school.” I shift carefully, trying to find a position that doesn’t make my ribs scream. “Left it behind yesterday in all the chaos.”
Dana nods, then fixes me with that penetrating stare I remember from childhood. “And Jason?”
“How the fuck am I supposed to know?”
“Because Jason is your best friend,” Dana says simply.
I let out a bitter laugh that turns into a wince. “We’re not exactly on speaking terms right now, in case you missed that part.”
Dana leans forward, her expression growing serious. “Well, you need to get on speaking terms. Fast.”
“Dana—”
“No, listen to me.” She cuts me off with a sharp gesture. “That baby you two are having? She deserves a grandfather who’s part of her life. And Charlotte deserves to have a father who’s at the hospital with her when she gives birth.”
The words hit me like another punch to the gut. I picture Charlotte in a hospital bed, scared and in pain, with only me beside her. No father holding her hand. No family beyond what I can provide.
“Don’t let your pride rob your child of family,” Dana continues, her voice softening slightly. “You and Jason have been friends for decades. That has to count for something.”
I stare into my coffee mug, watching steam rise from the dark surface.
“Jason has every right to hate me.”
“Maybe.” Dana squeezes my hand once before releasing it. “But that doesn’t mean you stop trying to make it right.”
Then she stands abruptly and gathers her purse.
“Where are you going?”
“Damage control.” She slings the purse strap over her shoulder. “Worthington Sports is one of the sponsors of the beauty academy. I’m about to go convince Darian DeLuca not to press charges against you.”
“Press charges?” I push myself up from the chair, ignoring the flare of pain. “For what?”
“Disturbing the peace. Public fighting on school property. Take your pick.” Dana moves toward the door. “Half the school saw Jason beat you bloody in that hallway. If DeLuca wants to make an example, he could.”
The thought hadn’t even occurred to me. I was so focused on losing Jason’s friendship that I didn’t consider the legal ramifications of our very public fight.
“Dana, wait.” I follow her toward the door. “You don’t have to clean up my mess.”
She pauses at the threshold, her hand on the door handle.
“Yes, I do. Because that’s what family does.” Her eyes soften as she looks at my battered face. “And because the baby that Charlotte’s carrying is going to be my niece. She deserves to have her father around, not sitting in a jail cell.”
The door closes behind her with a definitive click, leaving me alone with my thoughts and the echo of her words. I lean against the doorframe, feeling the weight of responsibility settle heavier on my shoulders.
I sit in silence for several minutes, watching the steam rise from my coffee mug. Then I pull out my phone and do something I never thought I’d do again.
I text Jason.
*We need to talk. For Charlotte’s sake. For the baby.*
I stare at the screen, waiting. Three minutes later, my phone buzzes.
*Fit Mountain Resort. Room 412. 1 hour.*
It’s not forgiveness. It’s barely even acknowledgment. But it’s something. A chance.
I grab my truck keys and jacket, my decision made. This isn’t about me or Jason anymore. It’s about the family I never thought I’d have.
And I’ll be damned if I let my pride stand in the way of that.
The carpeted hallway of The Fit Mountain Resort feels miles long as I walk toward room 412.
Each step sends pain shooting through my ribs, a physical reminder of where I stand with Jason.
My heart pounds against my bruised chest as I stop in front of his door.
I’ve rehearsed what to say the entire drive here, but now that I’m standing outside his room, the words evaporate like morning mist.
I raise my hand and knock before I can talk myself out of it.
Seconds stretch into what feels like hours. The hallway light buzzes overhead, unnaturally bright against the muted beige walls. I consider turning around, but then the lock clicks.
Jason fills the doorway, his broad shoulders tense beneath his flannel shirt. His eyes narrow when he sees me, gaze lingering on my swollen eye and split lip. His knuckles are scraped raw, matching wounds to the ones on my face.
“You look like shit.”
I try for a half-smile that pulls painfully at my split lip. “Feel like it too.”
Jason stands motionless for a long moment. I brace myself for the door to slam in my face. Instead, he steps aside, a grudging invitation.
The hotel room is standard issue. Beige walls, generic landscape prints, queen-sized bed with a geometric-patterned comforter.
An open duffel bag sits on the luggage rack, clothes spilling out.
Jason’s temporary home now that he can’t bear to be in the same town as his daughter and former best friend.
I remain standing awkwardly near the door while Jason leans against the desk, arms crossed defensively over his chest. The distance between us spans more than just the few feet of hotel carpet.
“So talk.” Jason’s jaw tightens, the muscle twitching beneath his skin.
I take a deep breath, wincing at the pain in my ribs.
“I know I betrayed you. There’s no excuse for that.” The words come out rough, unpracticed. “I fell in love with Charlotte, and I should have told you from the start.”
Jason’s face doesn’t move, but his fingers dig so hard into his biceps I wonder if he’ll draw blood. He’s always had this ability to be perfectly still and perfectly furious.
“I tried to fight it,” I continue, needing him to understand. “I told myself all the reasons it was wrong. She’s your daughter. She’s too young. You trusted me to look out for her, not fall for her.”
“Yet here we are.” Jason’s voice cuts through the room like a blade.
“Here we are,” I agree, meeting his gaze despite the guilt churning in my gut. “I’m not asking for forgiveness, Jason. I don’t deserve it. But Charlotte doesn’t deserve to lose her father over this.”
“You don’t get to tell me what my daughter deserves.” His words come sharp and quick. “You don’t get to betray my trust and then stand in my hotel room giving me parenting advice.”
The truth in his words hits harder than his fists ever could. I move toward the window, needing space to breathe through the tightness in my chest.
“She’s everything to me, Jason.” I stare out at the mountain view, focusing on the distant peaks rather than his reflection in the glass. “And this baby...” My voice breaks unexpectedly. “I never thought I’d get to be a father after what happened with Vanessa.”
The mention of my ex hangs in the air between us. Jason was there when I discovered her betrayal. When I learned the child I thought was mine belonged to another man. When I packed up the nursery I’d built with my own hands.
“You should have come to me.” Jason’s voice is quieter now, the rage banked but still smoldering. “Before it went this far. Before she was pregnant.”
I turn to face him. “Would it have made a difference?”
“I don’t know.” His honesty surprises me. “But you owed me that chance.”
He’s right. Of course he’s right. The knowledge sits heavy in my chest, alongside the pain of my bruised ribs and the hope I’m trying desperately to hold onto.
“I’m sorry,” I say simply. “Not for loving Charlotte or for this baby. But for betraying your trust. For not being man enough to come to you sooner.”
Something shifts in Jason’s expression. Not forgiveness, not yet. But the hard edge of hatred softens slightly.
I take a breath, feeling the weight of what I need to say.
“You can hate me all you want, Jason. I understand if you never want to speak to me again.” My voice comes out steadier than I feel. “But please don’t punish Charlotte or my little girl for the mistakes I’ve made.”
Jason goes completely still. His eyes lock onto mine, and I see something shift in his expression.
“The baby is a girl?” he asks quietly.
“Yeah.” I reach into my back pocket, pulling out my wallet with careful movements. My fingers find the ultrasound photo tucked behind my driver’s license. The black and white image is creased from handling, but the tiny profile is still clear. “You can keep that one. I have plenty of copies.”
I hold it out to him, watching as he takes it with trembling fingers.
Jason stares down at the image for a long moment, then slowly sinks onto the edge of the bed. His shoulders curve inward as he studies the ultrasound, tracing the outline of his granddaughter’s face with his thumb.
The silence stretches between us, heavy with twenty years of brotherhood and the weight of what we’ve lost. I watch his face, seeing the war between his love for Charlotte and his anger at me playing out in real time.
Finally, he speaks.
“Just go.”
The words hit me like a physical blow, but I nod. I turn toward the door, each step away from him feeling like walking through quicksand. My hand reaches for the handle, and I pause.
“Jason—”
“I said go.” His voice breaks on the words.
I sigh and shake my head, defeat settling into my bones alongside the physical pain. I tried. That has to count for something, even if it wasn’t enough. Maybe someday it will be.
The hotel room door clicks shut behind me. My footsteps echo in the empty hallway as I make my way back toward the elevator, each step carrying me further from the man who used to be my brother and closer to an uncertain future.
I press the down button and wait, staring at my reflection in the polished steel doors. My face looks like I went ten rounds with a heavyweight boxer and lost every single one. But that’s not what hurts the most.
Jason was more than my best friend. He was the brother I never had, the family I chose when my own father drank himself into an early grave.
He stood by me through every failure, every heartbreak, every moment when the world felt too heavy to carry alone.
And I repaid that loyalty by falling in love with the one person who was supposed to be off-limits.
The elevator dings, doors parting. I step inside and stare at the floor numbers as they light up one by one.
All I can do is hope that somewhere between now and the birth, Jason will find a way to forgive me. Not because I deserve it, but because Charlotte and the baby do. Because family is supposed to mean something, even if it doesn’t always feel like it.
Because love is supposed to be the thing that fills the cracks, not splits them wider.
Even when it doesn’t feel that way.