Page 60 of Hometown Heart

Stepping inside felt like entering a museum dedicated to my son's evolving interests. Hockey posters dominated one wall—pride of place given to Ziggy Knickerbocker's UMaine teamphoto, now signed with a personal message that Cody had reread approximately eight hundred times.

A bookshelf sagged under the weight of adventure novels and hockey statistics manuals. His desk housed an abandoned science project—something involving bean plants and different growing conditions. I sank onto the edge of his bed, fingers tracing the hockey stick pattern on his comforter.

What if Edward's renewed interest meant he wanted to renegotiate custody? What if his career had stabilized enough that he could now divide Cody's time more equally? The custody agreement favored me, but it wasn't irrevocable. Nothing about parenthood came with guarantees.

The uncertainty gnawed at my insides, hollowing me out. I'd moved us to Whistleport to create stability and give Cody somewhere he could put down roots after the turbulence of the divorce. I'd watched him blossom in the small town. He easily made friends while excelling at hockey and developing the quiet confidence I'd always hoped he'd find.

For the first time in years, I'd also allowed myself to imagine a future for me that might involve more than being Cody's dad. Silas had slipped past my carefully constructed barriers, showing me that embracing vulnerability didn't always lead to heartbreak.

None of that would matter if Edward decided to upend our arrangement. The law had its own priorities and definitions of parenthood.

I pulled Cody's blanket taut across the empty bed, smoothing invisible wrinkles. A hockey puck sat on his nightstand, used as a paperweight for a stack of hockey cards. I picked it up, feeling its solid weight against my palm.

"I won't let you go without a fight," I whispered to the empty room, making a promise to both Cody and myself.

The puck was cold and hard against my skin. Whatever came next, I would face it head-on—for Cody and for everything that mattered.

Morning arrived with the persistent beep of my alarm, jarring after a night of fractured sleep. I'd finally dozed off around four, only to wake constantly, checking that Cody remained beside me. Now, he sprawled diagonally across the bed, one foot dangling over the edge, unaware of my night of silent panic.

"Cody. Buddy. Time to get up." I gently shook his shoulder.

He groaned, burrowing deeper into the pillow. "Five more minutes."

"That's what you said ten minutes ago. Practice starts at seven."

The hockey reminder penetrated his fog of sleep. He sat up, hair flattened on one side and wildly askew on the other, eyes still heavy with sleep.

"Is there time for pancakes?" he asked, rubbing his face.

"If you shower in under five minutes."

He nodded solemnly, accepting the challenge, and shuffled toward the bathroom.

The water pipes rumbled as the shower turned on. I moved through the kitchen with automatic efficiency, measuring flour and milk and cracking eggs into the bowl. The familiar routine should have been comforting, but Edward's call lingered like a shadow over every mundane task.

By the time Cody thundered down the stairs, hair still damp, I'd arranged a stack of pancakes on his plate and brewed a pot of coffee strong enough to combat my exhaustion. He slid into his chair, immediately dousing the pancakes in syrup.

"Coach says we're doing power play drills today," he announced between bites. "Tyler and I have been practicing our passing after school."

"I noticed. The garage door has the dents to prove it."

He grinned. "Sorry, but we're getting better at bank shots."

I sipped my coffee, watching him demolish his breakfast while scrolling through his phone.

"What did you and your dad talk about yesterday?" I asked, striving for casualness.

Cody shrugged without looking up. "Hockey stuff, mostly. He wanted to know if I'm still using that training app he downloaded for me."

"Are you?"

"Sometimes. It's better for tracking stats than for actual drills." He speared another piece of pancake. "He said he might come up to see a game before the season ends."

I gripped my fork tightly to avoid dropping it. "When did he decide that?"

"Dunno. He mentioned his sister moved to Boston, so he'd be up this way more often." Cody glanced up, finally noticing my expression. "Isn't that cool? He can see me play."

I forced a smile. "Sure, that will be great."

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