The woman I had once promised to love forever.
The woman I had destroyed with a single decision.
Her hands stopped moving.
“Alexander?”
My name sounded strange coming from her lips.
I swallowed.
“Claire.”
She slowly put down the flowers.
“What are you doing here?”
I couldn’t answer immediately. My eyes had already moved past her.
Two little children were sitting on the floor near the window.
The girl was playing with a pink stuffed rabbit. The boy was trying to build a tower out of wooden blocks.
They looked up when they heard the bell.
And my heart stopped.
The little boy had my eyes.
The little girl had Claire’s smile.
I took one step forward.
“Are they…?”
Claire immediately moved between me and the children.
“Don’t.”
That single word stopped me.
I looked at her.
“Claire, please. How old are they?”
She didn’t respond.
“Are they mine?”
Her jaw tightened.
“You don’t get to walk into my shop after three years and start asking questions like you have some right to answers.”
“I saw the photograph.”
“Then you’ve seen enough.”
“No. I haven’t.”
My voice cracked.
“Claire, are those my children?”
She looked at me for a long moment.
Then she said something that shattered whatever hope I had been holding onto.
“They were your children before you ever knew they existed.”
I felt the floor shift beneath me.
“Twins?”
She nodded.
“A boy and a girl.”
I covered my mouth with one hand.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Claire laughed bitterly.
“You really want to ask me that?”
“I would have—”
“Would have what, Alexander?”
She stepped closer.
“Would you have welcomed them? Would you have held my hand at the hospital? Would you have told Sophia you were going to be a father?”
I had no answer.
Because I remembered.
The ultrasound.
The way Claire had stood near the entrance that afternoon.
The way she had watched me brush Sophia’s hair away from her face.
And then I remembered telling Claire that I had deliberately made sure she couldn’t become pregnant.
My knees nearly weakened.
“Claire, I didn’t know.”
“No. You didn’t want to know.”
Her words were quiet, but they hurt more than shouting ever could.
Behind her, the little girl stood up.
“Mommy?”
Claire immediately turned.
“Yes, sweetheart?”
“Who is that man?”
I stared at her.
She had a tiny dimple on her left cheek.
The same one Claire had.
Claire crouched and gently brushed the girl’s hair away from her face.
“Just someone Mommy used to know.”
Someone.
That was what I had become.
A stranger in the lives of my own children.
The little boy walked over, holding a wooden block.
“Mommy, look. I made a house.”
“That’s beautiful, Noah.”
Then he noticed me.
He stared at my face.
“Why does that man look like me?”
The question went straight through my chest.
Claire closed her eyes.
I crouched slowly, trying to bring myself down to his level.
“Hello, little man.”
He hid behind his mother’s leg.
I wanted to reach for him.
I wanted to hold him.
I wanted to tell him that I was his father.
But I had no idea whether I had earned the right.
Claire picked up the little girl.
“Emma, sweetheart, take your brother to the back room. Mommy needs to talk to someone.”
Emma nodded.
