15. Heavy Hearts

HEAVY HEARTS

T he car purred beneath my hands, steady and sure, unlike the chaos we'd left behind in the city. Tommy had claimed the passenger seat like it was his personal victory lane - complete with a victory dance that had me laughing despite everything. Now he was pressed against the window, treating every passing building in Oakwood Grove like it was the most incredible thing he'd ever seen. Kid had more enthusiasm for the ancient water tower than he'd ever shown for all of Vanessa's uptight country club brunches combined.

"Dad! That tree is perfect for climbing! Oh! And look at all the space here - we could practice pit stops in that parking lot!" He bounced in his seat, face lighting up with each new possibility. "Can you teach me how drafting works here? There's so much room!"

I laughed, reaching over to ruffle his hair. "Drafting, huh? Remember how I explained it with your toy cars?"

"Yeah! It's like when one car makes a special wind tunnel for the other car to follow in, right?" His face scrunched up adorably as he tried to remember. "Like when ducks fly in a V shape!"

"Pretty close, champ. You know how when you ride your bike behind a bigger kid, it feels easier?" I watched his eyes light up with understanding in the rearview mirror. "That's because they're breaking through the air first, leaving a smooth path for you."

"Like when I hide behind you when it's super windy!" Tommy grinned, proud of making the connection. "Is that why you always knew exactly when to pass Martinez? Because you were using his air?"

"Smart kid." I grinned back, heart warming at his interest. "That's exactly it. You wait in their draft until just the right moment, then use that extra speed to slingshot past."

"Can we try it sometime? Maybe with bikes since Mom says I'm too young for real racing?" His voice carried that mix of hope and hesitation that always hit me right in the gut.

"We can do better than that." The words came easy now, no need to check schedules or clear it with handlers. "Got a simulator being delivered to the new house. We can practice all the racing moves you want."

"Really?" His whole face lit up. "Can we start with Daytona? That's where you did that thing with the three-wide pass in the rain and everyone said it was impossible but you?—"

"We'll start with the basics, Speed Racer." I chuckled, loving his enthusiasm. "Got to learn walking before you can run."

"Dad?" His voice went thoughtful. "Do you miss it? The racing?"

I glanced at him, those green eyes so much like mine watching me carefully. "Some parts. The speed, the challenge. But you know what I don't miss?"

"What?"

"Missing out on moments like this." I reached over to squeeze his shoulder. "Besides, got a different kind of race to win now."

"The custody thing?" Sometimes I forgot how perceptive he was.

"Yeah, buddy. But don't worry about that, okay? Let's focus on finding the best climbing trees in Oakwood Grove instead."

His grin returned full force. "And the best places for pit stop practice!"

"And the best places for pit stop practice," I agreed, watching him bounce back to pointing out every fascinating thing we passed. Maybe this town, with its quiet streets and endless possibilities, was exactly the fresh start we both needed.

The coast road wound ahead of us, all sun-dappled curves and ocean glimpses. Tommy had his window down, letting the salt air mess up his hair in a way that would drive Vanessa crazy. Good. Let him be wild for once. Let him be a fucking kid.

"Is that it?" He spotted the house before I did, somehow knowing exactly which one was ours. Maybe because it looked a bit lost, a bit rough around the edges. Like us.

"That's home, sport." The word caught in my throat. Home. Not a hotel suite or a temporary rental. Home.

I was barely able to stop before Tommy was out, running toward the house like it was Christmas morning. Couldn't blame him - place had good bones, even if it needed work. Two stories of weathered cedar shakes and wide windows, all of it singing with potential under the peeling paint.

"Dad!" His voice carried pure joy. "The backyard goes all the way to the beach!"

The yard was overgrown, wooden deck needed replacing, but fuck if it wasn't perfect. Trees for climbing, space for whatever the hell we wanted, and that view - endless ocean stretched out like possibility.

"What do you think, bud?" I tried to keep my voice casual. "Think we can make this home?"

Tommy spun around, face split with the kind of grin I hadn't seen since before the divorce. "It's awesome! Can we have a swing? And maybe a sandbox? And-" He stopped, uncertainty creeping in. "I mean, if that's okay."

"Whatever you want." I crouched down to his level, making sure he saw how serious I was. "This is our place. We make the rules here."

His eyes went wide. "Really?"

"Really." My throat felt tight. "No more tiptoeing around, okay? This is home. Your home."

He launched himself at me, almost knocking us both over. His arms squeezed tight around my neck, and fuck if I wasn't blinking back tears.

"Love you, Dad."

"Love you more than racing," I whispered our old joke, holding him close.

The house needed work - new roof, updated kitchen, probably rewiring. But watching my son plan swing sets and sandbox castles, none of that mattered. We'd build it together, make it ours piece by piece. No more temporary stops, no more living out of suitcases between races.

"Dad!" Tommy's voice pulled me from thoughts of contractor estimates. "Can my room be the one with the big window? The one that faces the ocean?"

"'Course it can." Walking over to where he was bouncing with excitement, I saw what caught his eye. The bedroom overlooked both the water and that perfect climbing tree. "Good choice, buddy."

He beamed up at me, and fuck, when did he get so tall? "This is way better than Mom's new place."

"Hey buddy?" I kept my voice steady, watching Tommy examine a seashell like it held the secrets of the universe. "Why don't you explore the yard for a bit? Maybe scope out where that treehouse should go?"

"Really?" His face lit up. "Can I go all the way to the beach?"

"Just stay where I can see you." The rules came automatically, parent mode kicking in despite the phone burning a hole in my pocket. "And no swimming without me."

He took off like a rocket, all gangly limbs and pure joy. Watching him, my chest felt too tight. Tomorrow. Always fucking tomorrow hanging over us.

Cassidy's name flashed on my screen again. Third call in ten minutes - had to be important.

"What's wrong?" No point in pleasantries. Cassidy didn't call repeatedly for good news.

"How's Tommy?" Her lawyer voice. Shit.

"Happy." I watched him organize shells by size, so focused you'd think it was rocket science. "Finally getting to just be a kid for once."

Her silence stretched too long. "Elliot."

"Just say it, Cass."

"Vanessa's lawyer filed an emergency motion." Each word hit like a body blow. "They're claiming your sudden move to Oakwood Grove shows was a sign of a midlife crisis, that you're trying to alienate Tommy from his mother."

"Bullshit." The word exploded out before I could stop it. I glanced at Tommy, but he was lost in his shell collection. "She's the one who parades him around like a prop at her fucking charity events."

"I know." Cassidy's voice softened slightly. "But the judge granted their request for temporary sole custody until the final hearing."

The world tilted sideways. "What?"

"One month. Just until we can-"

"One month?" My free hand clenched into a fist. "You're telling me I don't get to see my son for a month because I wanted to give him a real home?"

"Elliot-"

"No." Blood rushed in my ears. "No fucking way. She can't do this. She can't just-"

"She can." Cassidy cut through my rage with surgical precision. "And she did. The judge sees your sudden relocation as potentially destabilizing."

"Destabilizing?" I had to turn away from Tommy, had to hide whatever was showing on my face. "You want to talk about destabilizing? How about her new boyfriend of the week? Her endless parade of tutors and specialists and whatever the fuck else she thinks will make him perfect?"

"I know." Steel entered Cassidy's voice. "And we'll fight this. But right now, you need to focus on today. Make it count."

Tommy's laugh carried across the yard as he discovered a hermit crab. Pure, untainted joy. The kind Vanessa's structure and rules were slowly crushing out of him.

"She's punishing me." The words tasted like ash.

"Maybe." Cassidy didn't deny it. "But getting angry won't help Tommy."

"Then what will?" My voice cracked. "Tell me what to do here, Cass. Tell me how to fix this."

“There ’s nothing we can do but just wait. But like I said before, Elliot, we will fight this and you will get your son.”

Tommy waved, proudly holding up his hermit crab. I managed to wave back, to smile like my world wasn't crumbling. He was heading back, crab carefully cradled in his hands. Had to pull it together. Had to be strong for him.

"When do I tell him?"

Cassidy sighed. "Tonight. Give him today first."

"Right." My throat felt raw. "Because that won't fuck him up at all, thinking his dad's abandoning him again."

"You're not abandoning him." Sharp now, cutting through my self-pity. "You're fighting for him. There's a difference."

Tommy was closer now, excitement radiating off him. Had to end this.

"Send me everything." I kept my voice low. "The motion, the judge's order, all of it. And Cass?"

"Yeah?"

"Make her pay for this."

The line went dead as Tommy reached me, proudly displaying his new friend. "Look Dad! He's got a shell just like the ones I collected!"

"That's awesome, buddy." I crouched down, forcing myself to focus on this moment, on my son's joy. "What are you going to name him?"

"Maybe Jake?" He grinned, completely unaware of how that name hit me.

My chest felt too tight, too full. "Yeah. Jake's a good name."

He had to get out of here. Had to move, had to do something before the weight of Cassidy's news crushed me completely. Jake's voice echoed in my head - something about waterfalls and peace and places worth finding.

"Hey sport?" I watched Tommy carefully return his hermit crab to the beach. "Want to go on an adventure?"

His whole face lit up, and fuck if that didn't make my heart stutter. One month. How many smiles would I miss in a month?

"What kind of adventure?" He bounced on his toes, already excited just from the possibility.

“How about we go to the falls in the woods." His eyes got even wider at Jake's name. Kid had latched onto him like a lifeline, like he somehow knew Jake was someone worth trusting. "Thought maybe we could check them out?"

"Yes!" Tommy practically vibrated with energy. "Can we go now? Right now?"

"Right now." The words felt like a promise. Every second counted now, every moment precious. "Race you to the car?"

Jake's directions were simple enough - follow the coast road past the old mill, look for the trail marker with the blue arrow. Kind of like racing, really. Find your line, trust your instincts, don't overthink it.

Tommy pressed his face against the window as trees thickened around us, the road narrowing into something wilder. "Dad, look at those rocks! They're huge!"

"Bigger than your hermit crab Jake?"

His giggle filled the car. "Way bigger. Like, a million Jakes could live there."

The parking area wasn't much - just a cleared patch of dirt with a wooden sign marking the trail. But Tommy acted like we'd discovered buried treasure, practically bouncing out of the car.

"This way!" He pointed at the blue arrow, already moving. "Come on, Dad!"

The trail wound through old growth forest, dappled sunlight playing across our path like nature's own light show. Tommy stopped every few feet to examine something new - a weird mushroom, a twisted branch, a rock that sparkled just right.

The sound hit us first - water rushing over rocks, nature's own music. Tommy grabbed my hand, tugging me faster.

"I hear it! Dad, I hear it!"

We rounded one last bend and there it was. The falls cascaded down dark rocks worn smooth by centuries of water, creating a symphony of sound and motion. The pool at the bottom gleamed crystal clear, catching sunlight like scattered diamonds.

"Wow." Tommy's voice came out hushed, like he was in church. "It's magic."

"Yeah, buddy." My throat felt tight watching him take it all in. "Pretty magical."

He found a perfect climbing rock near the water's edge, settling in like he belonged there. Following his lead, I sat beside him, letting the steady rush of falling water wash over us.

"Dad?"

"Yeah, sport?"

"Can we come here every day?" His eyes stayed fixed on the falls, but something in his voice caught. "When I visit?"

Fuck. My heart cracked a little more. "Many times as you want, buddy. This can be our spot."

"Dad?" Tommy's voice came out small, almost lost beneath the sound of falling water. He pressed closer, his small body seeking comfort in that instinctive way kids do when their world feels too big. "I don't want to go back."

Five words. Five fucking words and my entire world tilted sideways. I'd heard Tommy say he didn't want to leave before - standard kid stuff, the natural protest against ending fun times. But this was different. His voice shook, carried something heavier than simple disappointment.

"Why's that, buddy?" I kept my hand steady as I brushed through his hair, even though my heart was trying to punch through my ribs. Stay calm. Stay fucking calm.

He didn't answer right away. Just pressed closer, his fingers twisting in my shirt like he used to do when he was little and scared of thunderstorms. When had my confident kid started needing anchors again?

"Mom's been bringing these people over." The words tumbled out like he'd been holding them back forever. "Boys I don't know. And they're not like you or Sheriff Jake. They don't even look at me. And then Mom goes out with them and I'm just... there."

Just there. My vision went red around the edges. Eight years old and he's "just there," like some fucking afterthought in his own home.

"And the nanny's always on her phone." Tommy's voice got even smaller. "She doesn't like when I ask questions or want to play. Says I need to learn independence."

Independence. Right. Because an eight-year-old needs to be fucking independent while his mother dates her way through Manhattan's eligible bachelors.

"Sometimes-" He stopped, burying his face against my chest. "Sometimes I pretend I'm with you instead.”

Jesus fucking Christ.

I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him into my lap like he was still five years old and the world could be fixed with hugs and band-aids. His shoulders shook, and fuck, when was the last time my kid felt safe enough to cry?

"Listen to me, Tommy." I pressed my face into his hair, breathing in that kid-shampoo smell that somehow survived all of Vanessa's attempts at fancy products. "You are seen. You are loved. You are the most important person in my whole world, you hear me?"

He nodded against my chest, but his fingers stayed twisted in my shirt.

"And you're not alone." The words burned coming out, knowing I'd have to leave him tomorrow. Knowing it would be a month before I could hold him like this again. "Even when we're apart, I'm thinking about you. Missing you. Loving you so much it hurts."

"But what if-" His breath hitched. "What if the new boys don't want me around? What if Mom forgets me again?"

"She doesn't forget you, buddy." The lie tasted like ash, but what choice did I have? Can't trash talk your kid's mother, no matter how much she deserves it. "She just gets... distracted sometimes."

"Like you did with racing?"

"Yeah." My voice cracked. "Like I did with racing. But you know what I figured out?"

He pulled back enough to look at me, tears making those green eyes shine. "What?"

"That nothing - not racing, not winning, not anything in the whole world - matters more than you." I touched his chin, making sure he saw the truth in my eyes. "That's why I stopped. That's why we're making a home here. Because you deserve to be someone's whole world."

"But Mom-"

"Your mom loves you." Another necessary lie. "She just shows it differently. And sometimes grown-ups mess up, get lost in their own stuff. But that's not your fault, okay? Never your fault."

The falls kept their steady rhythm, nature's heartbeat mixing with my son's quiet sniffles. Tommy stayed curled in my lap, too big for it really, but neither of us cared.

"I wish-" He stopped, like he wasn't sure he was allowed to wish anymore.

"What, buddy? You can tell me anything."

"I wish we could stay here forever." His voice steadied slightly. "With the falls and the hermit crabs and Sheriff Jake making pancakes. Where everything feels right."

My eyes burned. One month. One fucking month without this.

"We'll have that again." I promised, meaning every word. "The house will be ready soon, and then you'll have your own room with an ocean view. We'll build that treehouse, make friends with all the hermit crabs."

"And Sheriff Jake will visit?"

Something warm unfurled in my chest despite everything. "Yeah, sport. Jake can visit whenever you want."

We sat there as the sun painted the falls in gold, my kid curled against me like time hadn't passed at all. Every breath felt precious, every moment burned into memory to carry me through the empty days ahead.

Tommy's breathing evened out, exhausted from emotional release. But his grip on my shirt never loosened, like some part of him knew our time was running out.

One month.

Thirty days without his laugh.

Seven hundred and twenty hours without his trust.

Forty-three thousand two hundred minutes without his heart beating against mine.

But I'd wait. I'd fight. I'd move heaven and earth and every fucking judge in New York to give my son the home he deserved.

Even if it meant facing my own mistakes.

Even if it meant admitting that maybe I wasn't so different from Vanessa once, lost in my own selfish pursuits while my kid needed me.

Even if it meant spending every second of the next month planning, preparing, making sure that when Tommy came home - really came home - he'd never feel alone again.

The falls kept falling.

Time kept moving.

And I held my son like I could freeze this moment forever, store it somewhere safe to get me through the longest month of my life.

The sun started its descent, painting the falls in gold and shadow. Time's a funny thing when you're counting down - moves too fast and too slow all at once. Tommy had fallen quiet, maybe sensing the weight of tomorrow in my silence.

"Ready to head back, sport?"

He nodded, but his hand found mine as we walked to the car. Such a simple thing - my son's fingers wrapped around mine, trusting me to guide him. How many moments like this would I miss in a month?

"We'll come back." The promise slipped out before I could stop it. "Soon as you're home again."

"Promise?"

"Knock knock."

His small smile in the reflection warmed something in my chest. "Who's there?"

"Promise."

"Promise who?"

"Promise you more than racing."

The words hung between us as we wound our way back through Oakwood Grove's quiet streets. Every turn felt familiar now, like the town had wrapped itself around us, claiming us as its own. Or maybe we'd claimed it, marked it with memories I'd replay during the empty month ahead.

Jake's house came into view - our temporary home that somehow felt more real than anywhere we'd lived since the divorce. No lights on yet; he was probably still at work. The thought of him sent something warm and complicated through my chest, but I pushed it aside. Couldn't deal with that now. Not when every second with Tommy felt like sand slipping through my fingers.

"Can you read me something?” Tommy asked as we climbed the porch steps. "The chapter with the flying car?"

"Whatever you want, buddy." I'd read the whole damn series tonight if it meant keeping him close a little longer.

The house welcomed us with its quiet comfort - so different from Vanessa's sterile perfection. Tommy's books scattered across the coffee table, his shoes kicked off by the door, evidence of a kid allowed to just exist without constant correction.

"Dad?" His voice came small as he changed into pajamas. "Will you stay till I fall asleep?"

"Course I will. Not going anywhere."

Lie. Big fucking lie. But what else could I say?

He curled against me on the bed - Jake's guest bed that somehow felt like ours now - as I opened the book. The familiar words washed over us, but I barely registered them. Too focused on memorizing this: my son's weight against my side, his steady breathing, the way he still mouthed certain words along with me like he did when he was little.

"'The car moved on in silence,'" I read, trying to keep my voice steady. "'Harry turned to look at Ron and saw that his ears were still scarlet red.'"

Tommy's breathing deepened, each exhale a little gift. Still here. Still mine. For now.

The chapter ended but I kept reading, kept holding onto this moment like I could freeze it in amber. Save it forever, pull it out during the long nights ahead when my arms felt too empty and my house too quiet.

"Love you, Dad." The words came sleepy and soft as he drifted off.

"Love you more than racing." My voice cracked but he was already gone, lost to whatever dreams eight-year-olds have when they feel safe and loved.

I sat there in the growing dark, watching my son sleep. Memorizing the way his hair fell across his forehead, how his fingers curled around the edge of his pillow, the perfect peace of his expression. Different from how he looked at Vanessa's - no tension around his eyes, no careful mask of being whatever someone needed him to be.

Just my boy, safe and whole.

One month.

But looking at him now, something steel-hard settled in my chest. A resolve that burned hotter than any starting line adrenaline.

I'd fight. Not just in court, not just through lawyers and custody agreements. I'd fight to make this place real - our home, our future, our chance at something authentic. Fill that house by the ocean with so much love and acceptance that Tommy would never doubt his place in it.

Even if it meant facing down every judge in New York.

Even if it meant proving myself over and over.

Even if it meant admitting that maybe I needed this town, needed its quiet strength and steady rhythms, needed a certain sheriff's unwavering support.

Tommy shifted in his sleep, reaching for me like he used to when he was tiny. I caught his hand, pressed a kiss to his palm like I could seal my promise there.

"I've got you, buddy." The words came out rough, barely a whisper. "Always will."

The night settled around us, stars peeking through the window Jake had cleaned just for Tommy. Tomorrow would come, bringing its goodbyes and heart-wrench. But right now, in this quiet room with my son's heart beating steady against mine, I let myself believe.

Believe in waterfalls and hermit crabs.

Believe in small towns and second chances.

Believe that sometimes the hardest fights lead to the best victories.

Even if victory meant waiting.

Even if waiting felt like dying.

Even if believing hurt more than any crash ever could.

Tomorrow could go fuck itself.

Tonight was ours.