Chapter 33 Emma
EMMA
In almost two months since the Brownings, Liam has done exactly what I asked of him.
He’s given me space.
However, he has also stayed in contact. Always gentle. Always respectful.
A text every few days to check in.
A little note about moving into an apartment near ours.
Not too close, he’d said, but close enough to help if I ever needed him to.
Part of me wanted to roll my eyes.
Part of me didn’t mind it at all.
He told me when he set up accounts for Laddie and me. Told me he didn’t want to be a deadbeat dad, even if I decided I never wanted him in my life.
He kept saying he wouldn’t give up on us.
On whatever we might still be.
And yes, he apologized every time for sounding like a creep.
A month ago, the three of us sat in a booth at Sal’s Pizza, squeezed together on a cracked vinyl seat. I’d been nervous about how it would go, but Laddie warmed to Liam instantly.
He spent the whole night peppering him with questions about hockey, skating, and even what kind of pizza athletes eat.
He kept drifting closer across the booth until he was practically leaning on Liam, stealing bites of his slice like they’d been friends forever. Liam didn’t mind at all; he just smiled and kept talking to him, patient and warm.
They laughed together, shared mozzarella sticks, and somehow ended up quoting the same cartoon I didn’t even know Liam watched.
By the time we left, Laddie was holding Liam’s hand, swinging it as they walked to the car. He talked about him nonstop for days afterward, slipping Liam’s name into every story.
He attached himself so naturally, so completely, it made something warm and aching bloom in my chest.
And it terrified me.
Because watching them having this easy, instant bond, this… likeness between them—it reminded me just how much I’ve kept locked away.
Just how much I’m risking by letting Liam close again.
But God… it was a wonderful night.
For Laddie.
For Liam.
And yes, if I’m honest, it’s for me too.
Chicago got decent snow overnight, and Liam suggested we meet up at a sledding hill for a while.
Today, as I wait beside the park entrance bundled in my blue puffer jacket, I spot Liam’s SUV pulling into the lot. He steps out wearing a Reapers’ beanie, a winter coat, and a dark bruise under his left eye.
He grabs a big plastic sled from the backseat and heads toward us.
Laddie yelps, “Mr. Callaghan, Mama. Hi, Mr. Callaghan,” He snatches the sled right out of Liam’s hands and sprints toward the hill without looking back.
I start to call after him. “Say thank—”
He’s already out of earshot.
I sigh. “That kid. Sorry.”
Liam shoves his hands into his pockets and smiles. “He’s excited. It’s fine.”
“You shouldn’t spoil him like that,” I say, because someone has to be the responsible parent here. “You got him so much for Christmas. He’s going to think he can just come to you for whatever he wants.”
He lifts a shoulder. “I have to make up some time.”
I turn my head and give him a look. “That is not a good answer. I’m not raising a spoiled, entitled kid.”
“Okay, okay,” he says, laughing softly. “We’ll make him do the dishes. Vacuum the carpets.”
“We?” I ask, arching a brow. I don’t look directly at him, but I can feel him tense like he already regrets the slip.
“Sorry,” he mutters.
The truth is, every time he says something that sounds like us, something that sounds like a family, I feel my heart tighten in this confusing, painful, yet hopeful way.
And he knows it.
We both watch Laddie take a few rides down the hill, screaming and laughing as other kids pile onto the sled with him. When one kid wipes out at the bottom, Laddie hops off and helps him up, brushing snow off his jacket.
Liam’s voice softens beside me. “He’s a great kid. You did an amazing job.”
“Don’t try to butter me up, Liam.”
But I can’t help the little smile tugging at my lips, or the way my eyes flick sideways to catch the warmth in his.
He’s staring at me again. I can feel it.
I turn and catch him in the act.
“Stop staring at me, weirdo.”
He puts his hands up. “Can’t help it. You’re stunning.”
“Oh my God, double quit it. Holy moly, Liam.”
I cross my arms, pretending I’m unaffected, but the half-smile tugging at my mouth gives me away.
I don’t know why. I like it today.
Maybe I’m tired of pushing away softness.
He changes the subject gently, like he’s afraid to spook me.
“We’ve got a home game next week. Do you and Laddie want to come? I can get you into the family box.”
That word family hits the center of my chest like a pebble dropped in a still lake.
It creates ripples everywhere.
I don’t answer right away.
I watch Laddie barrel down the hill again.
I let myself breathe.
“Yeah,” I finally say. “I’ll ask Laddie. But… it sounds fun.”
His chin dips in a little nod, casual, but I can see the hope in the way he exhales. I can almost feel his heart beating from here.
He tries again. “Can I order sushi for us tonight? Maybe we can all watch a movie?”
I give him a flat look because I know exactly what he’s doing.
“Dude. Don’t press your—”
He waits.
Eyes soft.
Shoulders tense.
I sigh and look away. “Fine. I don’t feel like cooking.”
The smile he gives me is grateful, and so full of tenderness, I have to look at the snow instead of his face.
And stupidly, quietly, dangerously…
It feels nice.
It feels familiar.
It feels like maybe something in me is thawing.
I’m still trying to talk myself out of that feeling when I hear—
“Mama! Mama!”
Laddie comes sprinting back toward me, snow spraying behind him like rooster tails. He’s dragging another kid with him — a little boy with bright red gloves and a crooked helmet.
“Who’s this?” I ask as they skid to a stop.
“This is Dawson,” Laddie says, breathless with excitement. “He’s in my class!”
Dawson grins up at me, then swivels to look at Liam… and just stares.
Like he’s starstruck.
Like, Liam is some sort of celebrity or superhero.
“Your dad’s tall,” Dawson says to Laddie, pointing straight at Liam.
I freeze.
Liam freezes.
Even the wind seems to freeze.
Laddie looks confused. “He’s not—”
But Dawson barrels on. “Well, he looks like your dad. You both got the same face!”
Laddie’s brows furrow as he studies Liam like he’s trying to solve a puzzle he just now realizes exists.
Before I can do damage control, Dawson claps his mittens together and blurts:
“Hey, mister! If you aren’t Laddie’s dad, can you pretend to be my dad for one day? My dad’s really boring. You look like you’d be fun.”
Liam’s eyes go wide.
My stomach drops straight into the snow.
And Laddie…
Laddie looks between them with this dawning, curious expression.
“Mama?” he says softly. “Why does Dawson say Mr. Callaghan looks like me?”
My chest tightens so sharply that I grab the edge of my jacket.
Liam looks at me over Laddie’s head, helpless, hopeful, terrified.
I kneel down as Laddie steps closer, small hands resting on my shoulders.
I can’t do it anymore.
I can’t hold this truth between us like a secret that keeps hurting everyone.
“Sweetheart,” I whisper, brushing a curl from his forehead. “There’s something I should have told you a long time ago.”
“Yes, Mama,” Laddie blinks, waiting and trusting me.
My eyes lift to Liam.
He’s standing perfectly still, bruised eye, red cheeks from the cold, heart visibly in his throat.
My voice wavers.
“Laddie… Mr. Callaghan isn’t just a friend.”
He tilts his head. “What do you mean?”
“Baby,” I say softly, “he’s your dad. Your real dad.”
The silence that follows is only a second long, but it feels like forever.
Then Laddie practically explodes with joy, his face lighting up with the happiest smile I’ve ever seen.
“For real?” he gasps.
Liam laughs and sobs, then nods. “Yeah, buddy. For real.”
Laddie launches at him. Tiny arms wrapped around Liam’s middle.
Liam catches him instantly, lifting him off the ground like he had waited for this moment forever.
“You’re my dad!” Laddie shouts, laughing so hard he squeaks.
“I’m your dad,” Liam says back, voice thick and shaking.
They hold onto each other, both of them smiling like the world finally makes sense.
Laddie presses his cheek against Liam’s shoulder, happy and soft and trusting in a way that knocks the air out of me.
“Daddy,” he whispers into Liam’s coat. “I’m so happy you’re my daddy.”
Liam’s entire body trembles. He lifts a hand, cups the back of Laddie’s head.
“Buddy…” His voice cracks completely. “I’m… I’m so happy too.”
He’s barely holding it together.
This is a man who’s held everything in for years — the guilt, the grief, the longing, the love — and now it’s all pouring out of him at once
Laddie leans back, studying him with wide, curious eyes.
“Are you crying?” he asks, like it’s the funniest, wildest discovery he’s ever made.
Liam chokes on broken laugh and shakes his head.
“Nope,” he says, voice rough. “Just, uh… cold. Really cold.”
Laddie touches his cheek with a mitten. “But you’re warm.”
Liam laughs again, helpless. “Okay. Maybe a little crying.”
“A tiny cry?” Laddie guesses.
“Yeah,” Liam whispers. “A tiny one.”
I watch as Laddie wipes away a tear from Liam’s cheek with the side of his mitten. Liam lets him, closing his eyes like the touch alone is enough to undo him.
Meanwhile, Dawson has been standing beside us, staring at the scene like he’s watching a season finale he didn’t know he signed up for.
I press a mitten over my mouth, overwhelmed by relief, fear, joy, all of it tangled together inside me.
Because the moment I’d been terrified of?
The one I ran from for six years?
It turns out…
It was the moment my son was waiting for.
And the moment Liam has been aching for.
Laddie’s face lights up so bright it could replace the sun.
“Mama, did you hear? I have a Daddy!”
“Yes, sweetheart,” I manage, blinking fast, trying to stop my tears.
This is the moment everything changes.
For all three of us.