Brady scoffed beside me, and I swung a scathing glare his way.

He shrugged, completely unfazed.

“Can you stay?” Lucas asked, his excitement palpable.

Tanner’s gaze flicked to mine in question.

Covering my mouth, I shook my head, guilt churning my stomach.

“Sorry, bud. I can’t. I need to get to work,” he lied.

My nose started stinging, and I cut my eyes away so no one would be able to see if any tears actually escaped.

“Okay,” Lucas breathed, his disappointment palpable. “Will you tell Dad I love him? And Hannah. Oh, and make sure she’s not messing with my Legos.”

Tanner’s face once again crumbled, his smile unable to mask it. “Sure thing.”

“Oh! And Nana. Will you tell her that Charlotte’s good at the nebulizer? She’s, like, a doctor and stuff. Oh, and Grandpa. Tell him he’s not allowed to go fishing until I get home. He’ll catch all the good ones without me.”

My lungs burned as the air became toxic.

He truly believed he was going home.

“Yeah!” Tanner exclaimed, rising to his full height at the same time a tear finally made it out of his eye. He wiped it on his shoulder and kept right on smiling. “Dude, I won’t let him anywhere near the pond. I promise.”

“Okay, good,” he whispered.

Tanner tucked him against his legs, patting his back as he whispered, “Love you, Trav.”

“Love you, too,” he mumbled, releasing his uncle. The devastation on my son’s face was staggering.

“Come on, my man,” Brady said, taking his hand, leading him into the house, and then shutting the door behind them.

The minute it clicked, Tanner lost it.

“Jesus,” he hissed. He rested his hands on his head and paced a small circle. “This is so fucked up. Tell me you know this is fucked up, Charlotte.”

“Tanner, it’s not her fault,” Rita soothed.

“What do you expect me to do?” I asked.

Tanner stopped, planted a hand on his hip, and aimed a pointed finger at the door. “I want you to remember what it felt like the day he was taken from you. Because that is exactly what you are doing to Porter right now.”

“I can’t worry about Porter!” I cried. “He’s my son.”

Tanner scoffed and stared at me in disbelief. “Okay. Then I want you to think about your son. Remember the day he was taken from you? Now, I want you to imagine you are an eleven—or as it turns out ten—year-old boy and your entire family has been snatched from you. Because that is what you have done to him.”

I sucked in a ragged breath. “This is an impossible situation. I don’t have the answers.”

“His name is Travis. Or Lucas. Or whatever the hell you want to call him. But he is the answer. This isn’t about my family or yours. Nor is it about you or Porter. It is about that little boy who is now caught in the middle of all of us.”

Words. More fucking words.

All of them the truth.

“I don’t know what to do!”

“Do what’s right!” he exclaimed. Turning his gaze on Rita, he softened his voice. “I’m sorry. But you know it’s true.”

“Go!” she ordered, wrapping her arms around me. “Shit. Charlotte. I’m so sorry. I did not know he was going to unload on you like that or I never would have brought him.”

“He’s right,” I mumbled.

“No, he’s not. He’s your son, honey. You deserve some time to figure all of this out without him acting like a prick.”

My stomach rolled as I watched Tanner walk away, his gait a little too similar to his brother’s.

“I need to confess something, and you can’t tell anyone else,” I whispered.

“Okay, yeah. Anything.”

“I miss Porter,” I choked out.

“Oh, honey. It’s not wrong to miss him.”

“But everyone keeps telling me it is. They’re convinced he knew about Lucas. Brady won’t let up. And Tom somehow even managed to get Mom on the bandwagon.”

“Charlotte, look at me.” Using my shoulders, she forced me away until she caught my gaze. “Brady just needs somebody to blame. He’s been doing that to you for ten years. Now, he’s doing it to Porter. He’s an asshole. Assholes do that.”

I half laughed, half sobbed.

“And Tom,” she continued. “He’s basically your father. Hell, he’s even sleeping with your mom.”

“Ew!”

She smiled. “Somebody hurt his baby, and for ten years, he couldn’t figure out who. Now, he thinks he knows. So he is not delaying in extracting his vengeance in your honor.”

“I don’t need vengeance. I need Porter. He’d know all the right things to say to Lucas. He’d stand up to Brady. Tell Tom to take a fucking hike. He’d even be able to keep Mom from swirling herself into a tizzy.”

“Really?” she drawled in surprise. “Porter would do all that? That man does not strike me as an alpha.”

I half laughed, half sobbed again, and this time, it turned into all-out tears. “He’d do it for me.”

Her arms tightened around my shoulders. “Then that’s all that matters. Give it some time, Char. It’s been one day. Stop looking at the big picture and look at the now.

So what… Brady is being a dick. Tom is being overprotective. Your mom is trying to take care of the world. Really, it’s just another day for you.” She patted my chest over my heart. “Focus on what matters in here. Right now, Lucas is inside, and Tanner I’m sure is going home to let Porter know that he’s okay. So stop stressing yourself out with the rest of it. It’s all going to fall into place.”

I wasn’t sure I agreed with her.

But she definitely wasn’t wrong.

I flashed her a tight smile. “He wants us to call him Travis.”

She smiled back and patted my heart again. “Yeah, but he’s always going to be Lucas in here.”

* * *

“Can I get you something to drink?” Brady’s wife, Stephanie, asked as she opened the front door for me. Her long, curly, blond hair hung over her shoulders, and their son, William, was clawing at the ringlets like they were his favorite toy.

“I’m good. Thanks,” I replied, walking toward Brady, who was peering into the backyard from his recliner.

It had almost killed me, but I’d dropped Lucas off at Brady’s long enough for me to go to my office and pass off all of my patient files to Laughlin. It was official. For the first time in ten years, I was taking some time off. Six weeks to be exact. Greg had teased me that it was like I was going on maternity leave, and in a lot of ways, he had been right. I needed time to build a relationship and a bond with my son, and nothing—not even my job—was going to prevent me from making up for lost time.

Well, that’s not totally true. The surprise party of sorts in the conference room definitely took a few minutes of my time. They had cake and sparkling grape juice. Everyone was smiling and congratulating me on not only getting my son back, but taking time off to spend with him. Meanwhile, I stared at the minute hand on the clock, wondering how many gift cards I would have to purchase in order not to feel bad about making an early exit.

“Have you seen this?” Brady asked, passing me a newspaper.

I glanced outside at Lucas and breathed a sigh of relief that he was still there. I was convinced that he was going to disappear again. Every morning, my heart raced as I climbed off my makeshift bed on the couch and hurried down the hall to the bedroom he’d taken over as his own.

Every morning, he’d been there.

Every morning, I expected that to change.

“Seen what?” I asked.

“Your boyfriend has apparently decided to petition the courts for full custody.”

My body grew tight. “Full custody?”

“That’s what it says,” Brady replied, tipping his chin toward the paper. “I left a message on Paul’s voicemail to see if he’s formally heard anything from Porter’s attorney. But, according to The Post, that’s his goal.”