It was modest.
Warm.
Alive.
Children’s drawings covered the refrigerator.
Two backpacks hung beside the front door.
Science books sat stacked on the dining table.
Dinosaurs.
Planets.
Volcanoes.
Astronauts.
There was no luxury.
But there was love.
“The boys are asleep,” Emma said as soon as he stepped inside.
“You don’t wake them up.”
Nathan nodded.
“You don’t ask them questions.”
Another nod.
“And you don’t stand there looking guilty so I’ll feel sorry for you.”
Nathan lowered his eyes.
Emma stood between him and the hallway like a wall.
“How long have you been investigating me?”
“It wasn’t like that.”
“Don’t insult me.”
He swallowed.
“I asked for basic information.”
“Basic?” she snapped. “My address? My school? My debts? My children’s schedules?”
“Our children.”
Emma’s eyes turned cold.
“No.”
The word hit harder than a slap.
“Not yet.”
She folded her arms.
“You don’t get to disappear for five years, throw money around like some billionaire savior, and then show up calling yourself a father.”
“I know.”
“No, Nathan. You don’t.”
Her voice cracked for the first time.
“You’re trying to understand five years in five days.”
Nathan sat on the edge of the couch.
He didn’t feel worthy of touching anything else.
“I thought I was helping.”
“You were controlling.”
The room fell silent.
He glanced at a drawing on the refrigerator.
Three stick figures held hands.
Mom.
Ethan.
Noah.
No dad.
Not even an empty space where one should have been.
Just three.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked.
Even before the words left his mouth, he knew they were unfair.
Emma laughed bitterly.
“I found out I was pregnant three weeks after I left.”
Nathan closed his eyes.
“At first, I thought maybe life was giving us another chance.”
She paused.
Then continued.
“Then I remembered what you said the night we ended things.”
Nathan felt sick.
