Page 45 of Pucking the Single Dad
"Judges don't spend five minutes. They read reports. Look at facts. Single father, dangerous career, recent injury affecting stability—"
"Devoted father, successful career, temporary injury with full recovery expected." She countered each point. "Plus a stable home environment with consistent routines and medical care."
"It won't be enough."
She was quiet for a moment, then: "What if you weren't single?"
I stared at her. "What?"
"Your lawyer said married couples have stronger custody positions. Stable two-parent households, especially with an educator who specializes in children with health conditions..."
"You're suggesting we get married?"
"I'm suggesting we present a united front. Let them think what they want about our relationship status."
"Serena, I can't ask you to—"
"You're not asking. I'm offering." She met my eyes steadily. "Finn needs you. You need him. I'm not letting Sarah's parents tear your family apart because they don't approve of your choices."
"This is insane."
"This is strategy." She moved closer. "We don't have to actually do anything differently. Just... make our relationship status more visible. Control the narrative."
"Pretend to be together?"
Something flashed in her eyes. "Would we be pretending?"
The question hung between us.
"No," I admitted. "But making it public, official—that's different. There'll be scrutiny, judgment. Your job—"
"Will be fine. Principal Harrison already knows I'm staying here. Half the town does."
"This could get messy."
"Brad." She took my hands. "It's already messy. But Finn's worth it."
Looking at her—bedhead and borrowed clothes, fierce determination in her eyes—I felt something shift. Sarah's parents wanted to prove I couldn't provide a stable home for Finn. But here was Serena, ready to fight for us without hesitation.
"Okay," I said.
"Okay?"
"We present a united front. Whatever that requires."
"Whatever it requires," she echoed.
The first test of our newly weaponized relationship came at team bowling—mandatory family fun where theAvalanchepretended they weren't all competitive psychopaths who'd sell their mothers for a strike.
Serena emerged from the bedroom wearing my jersey, and my brain briefly flatlined. Theo had somehow materialized one in her size—probably the same way he materialized alibis and bail money.
"How do I look?" She did a little spin.
"Like Dad swallowed his tongue," Finn observed, already in his matching jersey. "Also his brain stopped working. See? He's doing the fish thing."
I closed my mouth.
"We should probably go," Serena said, but she was smiling that dangerous smile that made me want to cancel plans and explore exactly how that jersey would look on my bedroom floor.
