“But we were told—”
“That the chances were low.”
Not impossible.
The two words remained unspoken.
Alexander leaned back.
It was almost absurd.
He had controlled schedules.
Canceled treatments.
Manipulated appointments.
Protected himself against a future he feared.
And life had quietly happened anyway.
“Bennett wasn’t with me because he was treating me,” Claire said. “He came because he felt guilty.”
“For what?”
“For not recognizing what you were doing sooner.”
Alexander stared at the medical file.
“He blamed himself?”
“Partly.”
“He shouldn’t.”
Claire looked at him.
“No.”
The single word carried more meaning than an entire accusation.
Alexander closed the folder.
“The bleeding?”
“The twins survived.”
“I can see that.”
“But there were months when we didn’t know if they would.”
He felt his chest tighten.
“Were they born early?”
“Six weeks.”
Alexander shut his eyes.
He imagined Claire in a hospital.
Alone.
Two tiny babies in incubators.
Machines.
Doctors.
Fear.
“Was anyone with you?”
“My sister came.”
Alexander looked surprised.
“Emma?”
Claire nodded.
He had not spoken to Claire’s younger sister since the divorce.
Emma had once teased him mercilessly during holidays.
He had liked her.
He doubted she liked him now.
“And Bennett visited,” Claire added.
Alexander looked at the photograph again.
“That’s why he was there.”
“Yes.”
He hesitated.
“Why didn’t you contact me when things became dangerous?”
Claire’s expression changed.
“Would you really like the answer?”
“Yes.”
“I was afraid.”
Alexander went still.
“Of me?”
“Of what would happen.”
“I would never have hurt you.”
“I didn’t think you would.”
She shook her head.
“I was afraid you would decide the children were yours and therefore everything about them belonged to you.”
Alexander said nothing.
Because three years earlier, she might have been right.
Not because he would have taken the babies from her.
But because he had believed money, lawyers and influence could solve almost anything.
He might have arrived at the hospital with specialists.
Security.
Plans.
Decisions.
He might have turned Claire’s most frightening days into another situation he controlled.
“I understand,” he said.
Claire seemed surprised.
“You do?”
“I’m beginning to.”
The shop fell quiet.
Upstairs, footsteps crossed the ceiling.
One of the twins laughed.
Alexander looked upward instinctively.
Claire noticed.
“They ask questions about their father.”
His head turned.
“What do you tell them?”
“That families look different.”
“That’s all?”
“They’re two.”
Alexander nodded.
Then Claire said, “Leo asked about you after you left.”
His heart seemed to stop.
“What did he say?”
“He wanted to know whether the man with the big car was coming back.”
Alexander smiled before he could stop himself.
“And Lily?”
“She asked if your car was bigger than a dinosaur.”
He almost laughed.
“Is it?”
“I told her no.”
“Good.”
A small silence formed between them.
Not comfortable.
But not hostile either.
It was the first silence between them that felt like something might still exist beyond regret.
Claire stood.
“I can’t promise you anything.”
“I know.”
“But I’ve been thinking.”
Alexander waited.
“You can visit.”
He stared at her.
“Here?”
“For now.”
“When?”
“Saturday morning.”
“That’s two days.”
“Yes.”
“What time?”
“Ten.”
“I’ll be here at nine.”
“No.”
“Ten.”
He nodded.
“Ten.”
“And Alexander?”
“Yes?”
“You come alone.”
“No assistant. No driver waiting outside. No security.”
“I understand.”
“No gifts.”
He frowned.
“None?”
“None.”
“What am I supposed to bring?”
