Chapter 26 #2
“Go, Josh!” Nicklas shouts suddenly, jolting me back as Josh breaks down the rink, stickhandling with a determination that makes something twist in my chest.
He shoots.
The puck slams into the net.
Goal.
The arena erupts—cheers, clapping, the sharp echo of celebration bouncing off the walls. I’m on my feet without thinking, clapping hard, my heart lifting with the moment.
“That’s my boy,” I call, my voice catching.
Josh beams up at us, pure joy lighting up his face. And then, it falters. Just slightly. Like he remembered. His eyes flick again to the empty seat beside me. The one that should be filled. The one that was supposed to be filled.
He lifts his hand in a small, subdued wave instead of the excited one he usually gives, his smile dimming at the edges before he turns away, letting his teammates swarm him in celebration.
My hands fall still.
The noise of the crowd rushes back in, but it feels hollow now.
And all I can think is—
Where are you, Tuck?
The rest of the game passes in a blur of motion and noise, like I’m watching it from somewhere just outside my own body.
Sticks clash, skates carve, voices rise and fall—but none of it quite resisters.
When the final buzzer sounds and the scoreboard flashes two to one—Panthers over Sharks—we’re all on our feet, clapping, cheering, smiling.
As the boys clear the ice, I gather my things, my fingers fumbling with my bag as I wave Lucas and Ari over.
“I’m going to get a lift back with Nicklas,” Kate says.
I glance up just in time to see Nicklas drape an easy arm over her shoulders, the gesture casual, familiar—his grin aimed entirely at her.
It’s effortless, the way he looks at her.
Open. Certain. It’s easy to see how much he likes her.
A flicker of something tight passes through me.
Tuck won’t like that. But Kate’s a grown woman. She can choose who she wants.
“Okay,” I say, forcing a small smile. “Meet you there.”
Lucas and Ari jog over, flushed and buzzing from the game, and we head outside into the crisp night air to wait. Twenty minutes later, we’re climbing into the car, the heater humming to life, but the knot in my stomach hasn’t loosened. If anything, it’s tighter.
Josh buckles in, then glances over at me. “Where was Tuck, Mom?”
The quiet disappointment in his voice cuts straight through me. Guts me. If I mess this up, I don’t just lose him, the boys lose him, too. That’s on me.
I’m the one who swore I’d never do this again. Never let a man into their lives unless I was sure. Unless he was all in. Unless he wanted this—us—the chaos and the noise and the ready-made family that comes with loving me.
And I broke that promise.
I let Tuck in anyway.
Long before that accident—before something shifted in him, before he started showing up in ways that felt intentional. Permanent. Before he made it feel like this might be something more. How was I not supposed to believe in that?
Or maybe…
Maybe that’s just who he is.
The guy who shows up. The one who steps in when people need him. He does it for everyone—the team, his friends…
Us.
Have I just mistaken kindness for something deeper? Built something in my head that was never really there?
“I think he got tied up helping Noah with the fence,” I say lightly, keeping my voice steady for Josh. “I’m sure he’s disappointed too.”
“Oh. Okay.” He nods, accepting it easier than I expected. And then, just like that, he lets it go. “I hope they got it fixed,” he adds, already moving on. “Mabel has been sneaking out. I wouldn’t want her to get hurt or hit by a car or anything.”
My chest tightens for a different reason now. I glance at him, at the sincerity in his eyes, the way his concern is for the dog, not himself. He’s a good kid. So much better than the mess I feel like right now.
I reach over and squeeze his knee. “Yeah. Me too.”
Maybe that’s all this is. Tuck being Tuck.
Helping where he’s needed. With that thought, my chest loosens.
We drop Ari off, then head home. The driveway is empty when I pull in.
But the floodlights are on. Bright. Harsh.
Lighting up the entire front lawn like something—or someone—needed to see everything clearly.
A ripple of unease moves through me.
“It doesn’t look like Tuck’s home yet,” Josh says, already unbuckling. “I can’t wait to tell him about my goal. I’m going to text him.”
“Josh—” I start, but it’s too late. The message is already sent. He’s out of the car and halfway to the door before I can say another word. Lucas follows, their voices echoing into the house as I linger for just a second longer in the quiet.
Something feels…off.
I can’t name it. But it’s there. I push it aside and head in after them. I move toward the kitchen, my gaze drifting—almost unconsciously—to the walls. To the frames. To what I added.
My chest tightens.
The boys tear through the house, calling for Marbles, their footsteps pounding down the hall, doors opening and closing.
“Marbles!”
“Here, kitty!”
Silence answers them. A moment later, they’re back. “We can’t find Marbles,” Josh says, a crease forming between his brows.
“I’m sure he’s around here somewhere,” I say. “Have you looked downstairs? I gesture with a nod. “The door was left open.”
“I’ll look,” Lucas says. Then suddenly, the front door opens and closes quietly.
We all go still, then Josh’s face lights up. “It’s Tuck. Tuck did you get my text?”
The boys bolt, and I slowly move toward the hallway behind them. My heart lurches when I see him.
“Tuck…” I murmur.
He looks…distraught. Pale. Drawn. Like something inside him has been shaken loose.
“Marbles,” he murmurs, averting our gazes.
“Do you have him?” I ask, my voice quieter now.
He swallows hard. “He…he got out. There was an accident.” His hands drag through his hair, gripping, like he’s trying to hold himself together.
“An accident?” Josh’s voice jumps. “Is he okay?”
Tuck nods quickly. “He broke a leg. He had to have surgery. He’s going to be okay.”
Relief rushes through me, but it’s tangled with something else. “Tuck,” I say softly, taking a step closer. “Are you okay?”
“The door…” he gestures behind him, his voice rough. “I tripped on the mat. I startled him. He ran…”
“He’s going to be okay, though, right?” Lucas asks, hovering close to his brother.
“Yeah,” Tuck says, but his voice cracks on the word. “He had to stay overnight.” His gaze drops. “But I’m sorry,” he adds, quieter now. “I messed up. I failed—”
“I want to see him,” Josh cuts in, his eyes glossy.
Tuck shakes his head. “I’m sorry, Josh.”
“I want to see him,” he repeats, panic threading into his voice now.
Tuck scrubs a hand over his face, his chest rising sharply as his gaze drifts—unfocused—past us. To the wall. To the pictures. “I don’t think—” he starts.
And then he stops. Goes completely still. My stomach drops as his eyes lock on the baby picture. The one I found tucked away in the dresser drawer. A haunted look crosses his face, so raw it steals the air from the room. One hand lifts, bracing against the wall like he needs it to stay upright.
“What…” His voice barely exists.
“I thought…” My own words falter under his strange reaction. “Your baby picture. I thought you’d like it. I thought I’d—”
He backs away. Like it burns. Like it’s something dangerous. My breath catches as his gaze flicks to the other pictures.
Josh with Marbles.
Tuck and Marbles.
Josh and Tuck working on the backyard rink.
Lucas and Tuck at the pool table.
Us, working together in the kitchen.
Pictures to show him we want to fill his walls and his home with love.
His gaze snaps back to the baby picture. A broken sound catches in his throat. The front door bursts open behind us. Kate and Nicklas rush in, breathless, laughter still clinging to them, until Kate sees Tuck—sees what he’s looking at.
Her face drains of color instantly. “No,” she whispers, her voice strained. She turns toward me, and something in her expression fractures.
“I thought…” I start again, my voice shaking now. “I found your baby picture. I thought I’d show—”
“Maria,” Kate cuts in, her voice thick with something like grief. “Stop.”
Tuck backs away further, shaking his head. “That’s not me.”
The world tilts. “What?” My pulse roars in my ears. “Then, who is it? What’s going on?”
No one answers.
Kate’s eyes are glassy. Tuck looks like he might shatter. I turn to Nicklas, desperate, searching for something—anything. And I see it happen. The shift.
“That’s your son,” he says, the realization hitting him all at once. “It’s Ben, isn’t it?”
The name lands like a crack through the room.
Ben.
His son.
My breath stutters.
Tuck has a son.
A whole other life.
A family he never told me about.
This…this is what he’s been keeping from me.
“I think…” Tuck’s voice is quiet. Empty. “I think you should go.”
And just like that—
Everything I thought we were shatters at my feet.