My pulse kicked up again. My mind raced through every version of the story Hudson had ever told. Heather. The baby. The wedding. All of it.
Why did he refer to Heather as his wife? I had the urge to confront, but I didn’t. My phone lay on the coffee table where I’d left it before we tumbled into bed. I had a text message from Dad asking if I was okay. I swiped the message away, opened the camera, and snapped a photo of the marriage license. Then I rolled it back up and placed it carefully in the box with the sham of a wedding ring, thebills of betrayal, and the clippings of a past that I would never have associated with Hudson.
Why hadn’t I spent time to learn more about him that summer? I’d been so caught up in my dick and how good it felt to come inside him to find out the things that mattered. How had I never asked about his family, but just lived in the moment?
No wonder he hadn’t taken me seriously. No wonder he’d thought all I wanted was to fuck him that summer. No wonder we’d fractured.
I’d built a summer of lust that was too fragile to withstand any pressure. One seed of doubt planted by my mother, and we’d cracked.
I inhaled deeply, and my chest felt tight.
If that marriage license was genuine, then Hudson wasn’t married at all. Why was he pretending that he was? Did he have more secrets he hadn’t told me?
I stared at the shadowy hallway, the only light coming from the cracked door to Ivy’s room. Hudson was still in there, still rocking her world steady again while mine was tipping sideways.
Didn’t he know?
I kept circling back to that question. Had he spent the last four years thinking he was married? Had she lied to him, made him believe she’d signed when she hadn’t? Or had he known all along and just… withheld the information?
I didn’t want to believe the second one. That marriage license was what had stood in our way for four years. If he knew he wasn’t married, would we have stayed away from each other for so long?
I pushed off the couch, walked in a daze, bare feet silent on the hardwood floor, and returned to Ivy’s room.
The door creaked slightly when I eased it open, and I paused, letting my eyes adjust to the low light. Ivy was lying still now, tucked into her little pink blanket, her breathing steady and soft. Her hand clutched the ear of her stuffed bear like she was afraid of losing it. But her face was peaceful, calm.
Hudson had slid to the floor, his back resting against the bed frame, long legs stretched out in front of him. His head tipped back, mouth slightly parted, fast asleep. There was something so defenseless about him like that. No bravado. No teasing. Just the man beneath it all. Tired. Tender. Human.
I crossed the room slowly and crouched beside him. “Hud,” I whispered, brushing my fingers lightly over his shoulder. “Baby, come on. She’s okay now. Let’s get you into bed.”
He blinked awake groggily, pupils dilated with sleep. “She’s okay?”
“Sleeping.”
His exhale was soft and full of relief. “Good… good.”
I helped him to his feet. He leaned on me heavily, warm and solid, and when we reached the door, he stopped, turned into me, and wrapped both arms around my waist.
“I’m so tired, Matt,” he mumbled against my neck. “Just hold me, okay? Don’t let me go. Please.”
My heart cracked at the sound of him like that, like a big kid who’d been brave all day and now needed to fall apart in someone’s arms. “I’ve got you,” I murmured. “I’m not going anywhere.”
He nuzzled into my neck and kissed the skin there. “You feel safe,” he whispered.
“Good. You’re always safe here.”
We made it back to the bedroom, and I guided himdown onto the bed. He curled toward me immediately, head on my chest, hand fisting the hem of my shirt like he needed something to anchor him.
He was asleep again within seconds.
But I wasn’t.
I lay there, eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling, the weight of the unsigned line pressing on my chest like a lead blanket.
That single, smooth stretch of paper said everything and nothing at all.
He wasn’t married.
But he hadn’t told me.
