Patricia’s hand flew to her mouth.

Marcus closed his eyes.

For one second, I saw the man I had married eight years ago.

Not the arrogant businessman standing in front of me.

Not the stranger who had signed divorce papers while I was still carrying his children.

Just Marcus.

The man who once held my face in his hands and promised that nothing in the world could ever come between us.

Then his eyes opened.

And the moment disappeared.

“Yes,” I said softly.

Noah smiled.

“He’s taller than I thought.”

Ethan immediately stepped forward.

“He looks like us.”

Sophia tilted her head.

“Which one of us looks most like him?”

Olivia, the quietest of the four, simply stared at Marcus.

Then she said something that made the room colder than the snow outside.

“Why doesn’t he know us?”

Marcus flinched.

His fiancée turned toward him.

“You have children?”

Her voice was barely audible.

Marcus didn’t answer.

She looked at me.

“Are you saying these are Marcus’s children?”

I nodded.

“All four.”

The woman took a step backward.

“Four?”

I could almost hear her heart breaking.

Marcus finally found his voice.

“Kesha…”

I hadn’t heard him say my name in eight years.

It sounded strange.

Almost foreign.

“Don’t.”

He stopped.

“You don’t get to say my name like that.”

His face tightened.

“I didn’t know.”

“No.”

I looked directly at him.

“You chose not to know.”

The words silenced him.

Patricia suddenly stepped forward.

“When were they born?”

“December twenty-third.”

Her eyes widened.

“Eight years ago?”

“Yes.”

She looked at Marcus.

“You told us she was lying.”

Marcus swallowed.

“I believed she was.”

“You didn’t even get a test.”

“I was twenty-five,” he whispered. “I was terrified.”

I almost laughed.

“Terrified?”

My voice cracked.

“You weren’t terrified when you packed your suitcase.”

Marcus looked down.

“You weren’t terrified when you changed your phone number.”

He said nothing.

“You weren’t terrified when your lawyer sent me divorce papers while I was lying in a hospital bed.”

His face became pale.

“You weren’t terrified when I called your mother because I didn’t know what else to do, and she told me that whatever happened was no longer her problem.”

Patricia’s eyes filled with tears.

“I didn’t know—”

“You knew enough.”

She lowered her head.

For eight years, I had imagined this moment.

Hundreds of times.

Sometimes I imagined screaming.

Sometimes I imagined throwing the divorce papers at Marcus.

Sometimes I imagined walking into this house surrounded by everything he had lost.

But now that I was standing there, none of those fantasies mattered.

Because my children were watching me.

And I refused to let their first Christmas with their grandparents become a war.

I knelt beside them.

“Kids, why don’t you go look at the Christmas tree?”

They ran toward the living room.

Their laughter instantly changed the atmosphere.

Marcus watched them disappear around the corner.

Then he whispered,

“They’re really mine.”

I looked at him.

“They always were.”

He sat down heavily on the nearest chair.

His hands trembled.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

I stared at him.

“Tell you what?”

“About them.”

“You disappeared.”

“I thought you were lying.”

“And when I didn’t chase you?”

He looked up.

“What?”

“When I didn’t beg you to come back. When I didn’t show up at your office. When I didn’t call your parents every week. When I didn’t send you pictures.”

Marcus stared at me.

“I thought you’d eventually come looking for me.”

I shook my head.

“That’s the difference between us.”

He frowned.

“What difference?”

“I stopped chasing someone who had already decided to leave.”

His eyes became wet.

Before he could answer, his fiancée suddenly removed the engagement ring.

The diamond landed softly on the table.

“I need to know something,” she said.

Marcus looked at her.

“What?”

“Did you ever love her?”

He froze.

I didn’t look at him.

I didn’t need to.

Because his silence answered for him.

The woman picked up her coat.

“Then I can’t marry you.”

“Emily—”

She shook her head.

“Don’t.”

She looked at me.

“I’m sorry.”

I gave her a small nod.

Then she walked out.

The front door closed.

Nobody spoke.

A few seconds later, Olivia came running back into the room.

“Mama!”

I smiled.

“What happened?”

She grabbed my hand.

“Grandma found something!”

My smile disappeared.

Patricia looked terrified.

“What did she find?”

Olivia pointed toward the hallway.

“In the drawer.”

I followed her.

Inside an old wooden cabinet near the staircase was a collection of photographs.

Photographs of Marcus as a child.

Photographs of Patricia and her husband.

Photographs from family vacations.

And then I saw one photograph that made my breath stop.

It was Marcus.

Eight years younger.

Standing beside me.

My hand was resting on my stomach.

I remembered that photograph.

It had been taken three weeks before Marcus left.

But beneath it was something I had never seen.

A handwritten envelope.

My name was written across the front.

Kesha.

My hands began to shake.

I looked at Patricia.

“What’s this?”

She went pale.

“I don’t know.”

I opened it.

Inside was a single sheet of paper.