5 Years Later, I Returned With His Heirs

The twins were restless. 

Bill pulled his seatbelt, and Luke Jr. had chocolate smeared on his shirt from the flight. A long-haul travel with two five-year-old boys was exhausting.

Not much had changed about Z City International since I left five years ago. It was the same polished marble, filtered air, and controlled chaos. 

"Mama, I'm hungry," Bill said.

"Soon, baby."

I was looking for our driver when I saw my ex-husband, Luke Anderson, standing near the arrival gate, phone to his ear. He looked exactly like he had five years ago. He wore a tailored suit, radiating complete authority with his carriage.

I should have turned around and taken the twins back through security, caught the next flight out, and maintained the distance I'd spent five years building.

Instead, I froze.

He turned. Our eyes met across thirty feet of airport terminal. He lowered the phone slowly, his expression one of surprise and confusion. 

Then he walked toward me.

"Mara."

"Luke."

We were like acquaintances who had lost touch, not two people who were once married.

His attention dropped to the twins. I felt the exact moment he registered their presence – two small boys clinging to my sides, staring up at the stranger with identical expressions of curiosity.

"You have children."

"Yes."

Luke's gaze moved between the boys before he asked. "How old are they?"

"Five."

"We should go," I said. "Our driver's waiting."

"Mara, wait."

"There's nothing to wait for. We're here on business. I didn't come looking for you."

"But you're here. In Z City."

"It's a big city, Luke. People live here. People visit. It doesn't mean anything."

His jaw tightened. "Five years. Five years of silence, and you just show up."

"I didn't show up. I'm passing through the same airport you happen to be in. That's not a reunion. That's a coincidence."

"Is it?"

"Yes."

I pulled the twins closer, preparing to leave. Luke stepped into my path.

"Don't," I said quietly. "Don't make this something it isn't."

"What is it, then? What am I supposed to think when you vanish for five years and reappear with …" He stopped himself, glanced at the twins, and lowered his voice. "We need to talk."

"No, we don't."

"Mara!"

"We're divorced, Luke. We are done talking about anything when I signed the papers. Whatever you think you're owed, you're not."

"Five minutes," he said. "Please."

The plea nearly undid me. Luke Anderson didn't beg. Didn't ask. He decided, and the world rearranged itself accordingly.

But he was asking now.

"No." I kept my voice steady. "I'm not doing this. Not here, not now, not with them present."

I gestured to the twins without looking away from Luke's face.

"Then when? Where?"

"Never. Nowhere. We're done, Luke. We were done five years ago."

"You left without an explanation."

"I left divorce papers. That was explanation enough."

"It wasn't. You can't just ..."

"I can. I did." I stepped around him, twins in tow. "Goodbye, Luke."

"Mara!"

I increased my pace as I walked through the terminal, past security, toward the exit where our driver should be waiting. My hands shook as my heart hammered. But I didn't look back.

We made it to the car before Luke Jr. asked, "Mama, who was that man?"

"No one, baby. Just someone I used to know."

"He looked sad."

I hadn't come back to Z City to reconcile. Hadn't come back to explain or apologize or let Luke Anderson's questions reshape my carefully rebuilt life.

I came back for business. For the assets my family had stolen, for the company I'd built abroad, for meetings that would establish me as someone who mattered in this city.

The hotel suite was perfect with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the business district. The twins had a separate bedroom with ample space to relax after a twelve-hour travel.

I got the boys settled with tablets and snacks, then stood at the window looking out at Z City's skyline. Five years away from this city, building myself into someone who no longer needs protection, rescue, or anyone.

My phone buzzed. Unknown number.

We need to talk. Name the time and place. – L

I stared at the message. Typed and deleted three different responses before settling on:

No.

His reply came instantly.

Please.

There it was again. That word he never used, offered like currency I was supposed to accept.

I turned off my phone.

Luke Anderson could keep whatever he wanted to discuss, questions he had about where I'd been or why I'd left or what came next.