Math wasn’t his best subject, but he could count. Five years. The divorce was six years ago.
Jasmine had left him, and he had been too proud, too stubborn to fight for her. Had she been—Excuse me, he said, standing up so quickly his chair almost fell over. I need some air.
But instead of heading to the door, his feet carried him toward Jasmine’s table. She was laughing at something one of the girls had said when she looked up and saw him. The laughter died on her lips.
Chris, she said softly. Not angry, not happy, just—Careful. The children looked up at him curiously.
The boy had his eyes. Exactly his eyes. Are they— He couldn’t finish the sentence.
Jasmine’s face changed. Something like fear mixed with determination crossed her features. They’re mine, she said firmly.
Mommy, who’s that? one of the girls asked, the one with Jasmine’s exact smile. Just someone Mommy used to know, Jasmine R. Answered, but her eyes never left Chris’s face. A long time ago.
Chris felt like the room was spinning. These children, these beautiful, perfect children. They had to be his.
The timing, their faces, the way they moved. How had he not— Known? Why hadn’t she told him? We need to talk, he managed to say. No, we don’t, Jasmine replied, but her voice shook slightly.
You made your choice a long time ago, Chris. You chose your empire over everything else. Over me.
Over us. But they’re— He lowered his voice, aware of the curious looks from nearby tables. Mine, Jasmine repeated firmly.
They’re mine. I tried to tell you, Chris, when I found out I was pregnant. I called your office dozens of times.
I wrote letters. You had changed your number. Your assistant—not Barbara, the one before her—said you were too busy.
After a while, I got the message. You didn’t want to be found. Chris felt like he’d been punched in the gut.
He remembered those months after Jasmine left, how he’d thrown himself into work, changed his number, hired a new assistant—anything to avoid dealing with the pain of losing her. I didn’t know, he whispered. Would it have made a difference? Jasmine asked, and for a moment, he saw the pain she still carried.
Would you have chosen differently? Before he could answer, one of the girls tugged at Jasmine’s sleeve. Mommy, can we have dessert now, you promised? Jasmine’s face softened as she looked at her daughter. Their daughter.
Of course, sweetie. Why don’t you three look at the dessert menu and pick something special? The children eagerly grabbed, the menus giving Chris a chance to really look at them. The boy had his mother’s dark hair but his father’s strong jaw, even at this young age.
The girls were identical twins, perfect mixtures of him and Jasmine. What are their names? he asked. Quietly.
Jasmine hesitated, then sighed. Mia and Sophie are the girls. The boy is James.
James. Chris’s father’s name. Had she done that on purpose? They’re beautiful, he said, his voice thick with emotion.
Yes, they are. Jasmine’s voice was softer now. And they’re happy.
We’re happy. Jasmine, please, we need to talk about this. Really talk.
She looked at him for a long moment, then pulled out a business card. My office number. Call tomorrow.
Not for us, that ship has sailed, but for them, if you’re serious, if you’re ready to be there for someone besides yourself. Chris took the card with trembling fingers. Back at his table, his colleagues were pretending not to stare.
His perfectly ordered world had just been turned upside down and nothing would ever be the same. As he walked back to his table on shaky legs, he could hear the children’s laughter behind him. His children’s laughter.
And for the first time in years, his empire of glass and steel felt hollow compared to what he had lost, and what he might have found again. Chris barely slept that night. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw their faces, his children.
The word felt strange, even in his thoughts. He had three children he never knew about. Three lives he had missed out on for five years.
The next morning, he arrived at his office earlier than usual. Barbara was already there, efficient as always, with his coffee ready. Barbara, he said, his voice serious.
I need you to tell me the truth. Five years ago, did Jasmine try to— Contact me. Barbara’s face changed.
She set down the coffee cup slowly. Yes, sir. Many times.
And what happened to those messages? Miss Reynolds, your assistant at the time. She said you had given strict instructions not to be disturbed by your ex-wife. She returned all the letters and blocked the calls.
Chris sank into his chair. Why didn’t you tell me this when— You took over. By then it had been months.
I assumed— Barbara hesitated. I assumed you knew what you were doing. You never mentioned her name.
Not once in all these years. Chris pulled out Jasmine’s business card from his pocket. It was already worn from how many times he had handled it since last night.
Carter & Associates Law Firm. She had become a lawyer just like she’d always dreamed. Get Miss Reynolds on the phone, he said quietly.
I want every letter, every message that Jasmine sent. Everything. Sir, that was five years ago.
Miss— Reynolds probably didn’t keep— Find them, Chris interrupted. Whatever it takes and clear my schedule for the afternoon. At exactly one o’clock, Chris stood outside Jasmine’s office building.
It was a modest law firm, nothing like his gleaming corporate headquarters. But it had character, just like her. The receptionist led him to a small but neat office.
Jasmine was at her desk, reading. Glasses perched on her nose, surrounded by papers. She looked up when he entered, and he saw she’d been expecting him.
You came, she said simply. Did you think I wouldn’t? Honestly? I didn’t know. The Chris I knew would have moved heaven and earth to be here, but the Chris you became soon, she shrugged.
I wasn’t sure. I found out about Miss Reynolds, he said sitting down across from her, about the letters and calls. Does that make a difference? It makes all the difference.
His voice rose slightly, and he forced himself to calm down. Jasmine, if I had known you were pregnant, you would have what? She took off her glasses. Thrown money at the situation.
Added us to your busy schedule between board meetings. That’s not fair. No.
Tell me something, Chris. Yesterday at the restaurant, that was a business dinner, wasn’t it? Some important deal you couldn’t miss. He nodded slowly.
And how many of those dinners do you have in a week? That’s different. I didn’t know I had a family. But you did have a family.
You had me, and that wasn’t enough. The truth of her words hit him hard. She was right.
Even before she left, he had been pulling away, choosing work over their marriage, success over love. Tell me about them, he said softly. Please.
Something in his voice must have reached her because her expression softened. She opened a drawer and pulled out a photo album. Mia is the oldest.