of laughter, a sound that held no joy. “Sorry? Miles, ‘sorry’ doesn’t erase those years. It doesn’t cradle a broken heart or mend the trust you shattered.” Her eyes were fierce, determined, the same eyes he remembered, stronger now, forged in fires he could only imagine.
Miles nodded, a gesture of acceptance rather than agreement. He had no words, no excuses left. Just a man standing in the shadow of his past mistakes, staring at the life that had continued without him.
“Are they—” he began, his voice catching. “Are they mine?”
Elena’s gaze softened slightly, but her grip on the stroller remained firm, as if tethering herself to the present. “They’re mine,” she said, her voice unwavering. “But yes, Miles, they’re yours too.”
His knees nearly buckled with the weight of her words, as though the ground beneath him wasn’t solid anymore. Triplets. Three small lives he hadn’t known existed until this moment. He tried to speak, but nothing came. His breath faltered.
“I didn’t know,” he finally managed, his eyes pleading for understanding, for a thread of connection to the life he had unwittingly missed. “I swear, Elena, I didn’t know.”
She watched him, her expression a complex weave of emotions—anger, hurt, resilience, and something else he couldn’t quite name. “I didn’t tell you,” she admitted. “After you left, there didn’t seem much point. I didn’t want them to be a reminder of what you ran from.”
Miles’ eyes pooled with unshed tears. “I can’t change the past,” he said, his voice rough with regret. “But I want to know them, Elena. I want to try.”
Silence stretched between them, a fragile bridge over the chasm of their shared history. She looked down at the stroller, then back up at him, searching for sincerity in his eyes.
“I won’t make promises I can’t keep,” she finally said, her voice gentler now, “but they deserve to know their father if he’s willing to be one.”
Miles nodded, the weight of her words settling heavily in his chest. It was a beginning, a chance he never expected. “Thank you,” he whispered, gratitude and determination mingling in his tone.
Elena stood, adjusting the blankets over the children who had begun to stir. “We’ll see, Miles. Words are easy. It’s actions that matter.”
He watched her walk away, the stroller moving forward with its precious cargo. He felt the weight of time and choices past pressing on him but also a glimmer of hope. The world was as noisy as before, but for Miles, a quiet resolve began to grow. There was a chance to breathe life into something new, a family he never knew he had. And for that, he would try—one step at a time, one day at a time.
