“God, I hope so,” I admitted.

One foot in front of the other, my legs devoured the distance to her door.

I knocked once, blew out an anxious sigh, and then knocked again.

My hand was still poised in the air when she swung it open.

“Hi,” she squeaked. Her face was pale, and her hollow eyes were red-rimmed, dark circles supporting them from the bottom. She looked a lot like the woman lost in the darkness that I’d first met at that spring fling. And it fucking killed to see her like that, knowing the breathtaking smiles and heart-stopping laughs she was capable of.

I forced a grin. “Hi.”

Her gaze flicked to Hannah, who was on my hip, and she shot me a tight smile that made her chin quiver. “He’s in the bedroom.”

Reaching out, I caught the back of her neck and pulled her against me.

She came willingly, her hand going to my free hip and twisting into my T-shirt.

“Are you okay?” I asked before pressing my lips to her forehead.

“No,” she croaked. “But he will be.” She stepped out of my reach and swung a hand toward the bedroom. “Go. We can talk later.”

She didn’t have to tell me twice. With hurried steps, I carried Hannah straight to Charlotte’s bedroom. Not even bothering with a knock, I shoved the door open wide.

And then the most indescribable peace I had ever experienced washed over me as my world finally stilled.

Travis’s head snapped up from the iPad he’d been playing on. He didn’t look any different than the last time I’d seen him.

He was too thin.

Too pale.

Too sick.

But, when I saw him now, he did look a lot like Charlotte.

And he was still one hundred percent mine.

“Dad!” he screamed, exploding off the bed.

I raced toward him, not stopping until he collided with my front.

“Dad,” he repeated, wrapping his arms around my waist, his shoulders shaking in time with my own.

“Hey, Trav,” I choked out, patting his back while setting my squirming daughter down so she could get in on the love too.

“Travis!” she giggled, stepping into his side, mirroring his hold on me, and hugging the life out of him.

Warmth filled my chest as I dropped to my knees and palmed each side of his face. I planted a kiss to his forehead that, only a week ago, he would have complained about. Now, he wiggled even closer, tears streaming down his cheeks.

I sat at the foot of the bed, and he followed me closely, wedging himself between my legs, Hannah still attached to him.

He rested his head against my shoulder like he had done so often when he had been younger, but not in years.

“How you doing, buddy?” I asked quietly, smoothing his hair down before pressing another kiss to the top of his head.

“I want to come home,” he whined.

“I know. I want that too.”

He peered up at me expectantly. “Then why can’t I?”

The vise on my chest wrenched tight, and I lifted my gaze to the doorway.

Charlotte was standing there, twin rivers pouring from her eyes, a myriad of emotions etched in her face, all of them terrorizing her.

With my heart in my throat, I glanced around at the absolute devastation Catherine had caused all of us.

My son was fighting the battle of his life with his health; he didn’t need this shit on top of it.

My daughter was hurting and confused because she was losing her big brother and best friend.

Charlotte had been lost for almost a decade, and now, she had her son back, but she was living, breathing, and suffering through his pain the way any good mother would.

And I… Well, I was falling apart. But I was also the only one left to pick up the pieces.

“We’re going to figure this out,” I announced to the entire room. “I’m here now. And we’re together. That’s all that matters.”

Charlotte nodded and started to back out of the room.

“Sweetheart,” I called, and her sad gaze lifted to mine. “Thank you,” I whispered.

She nodded again and started to pull the door closed.

My body screamed for me to stop her.

To ask her to stay.

To drag her into the darkness and ease both of our hearts.

But, judging by Travis’s death grip around my neck, my son needed some time with his father in the light.

“Don’t go far,” I told her.

She slid her gaze to Travis. “I couldn’t if I tried.”

“Charlotte,” I breathed in apology.

She faked a smile. “I’ll see what I can drum up for dinner.” She paused and then added, “For all of us.”

The door clicked softly behind her.

My body sagged in a confusing mixture of relief and defeat.

“Daddy,” Hannah whispered, patting my thigh.

I looked down at her. “Yeah?”

With wide eyes, she shook her head. “Guess what? There’s no TV in Travis’s new room.”

“There’s no TV in the whole place,” Travis complained.

I slapped a hand over my heart and cried out dramatically, “Oh God, say it ain’t so!”

Travis glowered.

Hannah giggled.

And I smiled because, regardless that our lives were in shambles, in that moment, with Travis on my right and Hannah on my left, everything was right.

Over the next two hours, the three of us stayed locked in that room. Alone while the chaos of reality continued to roar outside.

Travis asked questions I didn’t have the answers to. I made promises I couldn’t possibly uphold. But, for those minutes with him lying in the bed beside me, a game of Minecraft playing on his iPad, his heart beating slow and steady, his breaths even and easy, I felt not an ounce of guilt for lying to him.

He needed that.

The simple.

The predictable.

The monotony.

And, a few hours later, as he fell asleep next to his sister, the sun barely sinking over the horizon, I learned how badly they both needed it.

And I had a feeling they weren’t the only ones.

* * *

I was sitting on my couch, my knees pulled to my chest, a glass of untouched wine on the end table, my mind lost in thought, when I heard the bedroom door open.

I fought the urge to fly up off the couch.

“Pizza’s on the counter,” I called, keeping my eyes aimed at the wall. “I wasn’t sure what kind you guys would like so I got a few different—ooph.”

I was cut off when Porter’s hard body hit me. One of his arms hooked under my knees, the other wrapping around my back. And then the couch disappeared from beneath me.

“What the—”

“Shh!” he demanded.

“What are you doing?” I whisper-yelled, looping my arms around his neck to balance myself.

“Your apartment’s too small,” he rumbled, carrying me straight to the bathroom in the hallway.

“I’m working on getting a house. It’s just taking some time.”

“Mm,” he hummed, setting my ass on the bathroom vanity. Bending at the waist, he rested his hands on either side of me and got in my face, his piercing, blue eyes searching mine. “Please tell me you believe me when I say that I had nothing to do with Catherine taking your son.”

“I…uh…know. I heard your message.”

His gaze darkened. “You listen to all of it?”

I licked my lips and nodded. “I just got it last night. Brady blocked your number on my phone.”

“Right,” he mumbled.

“I’m sorr—”

“I had no fucking idea he was your son. You have to believe me or this is as far as we can ever go.”

My heart swelled. “I believe you.”

He eyed me warily and then warned, “No faking it, Charlotte.”

I leaned into him and brushed my lips with his. “I believe you, Porter.”

In one swift movement, he locked the bathroom door and flipped the lights off.

I gasped as the familiar darkness flooded the room. My whole body sagged, but my pulse quickened in anticipation.

Porter’s large frame moved toward me, his hips forcing my knees apart as he wedged his body between them. Gliding a hand into the back of my hair, he tucked my face into his neck. “Talk to me.”