Chapter Fourty One

Jake

I close the bedroom door gently behind me, but the sound still feels too loud in the silence between us. My pulse hammers in my ears, my jaw locked so tight I can barely breathe. She wanted to talk, Kyla finally wanted to talk and I walked out.

Like a coward, I knew exactly what she wanted to say, but I am not ready for it to be real. 

But I couldn’t stay in there, not with the weight of her eyes on me, not with questions screaming inside my head so loud I couldn’t hear anything else.

The kids’ laughter echoes down the hallway, bright and chaotic. Their footsteps pound against the floor as if this house has always been theirs. For a moment, I stand there, staring into the dark stretch of the corridor, and the truth slams into me like a freight train.

They look like her. Both of them. The eyes, the smile, the spirit it’s all Kyla.

But the boy, Elias.

I swallow hard, my chest tightening until it feels like I can’t breathe. He looks like me. The same sharp nose I had as a kid, the same stubborn chin. I see flashes of old photographs, myself at his age, grinning with scraped knees and untamed hair. It’s like looking into a mirror I never knew existed.

I push the thought down. I can’t, won’t let myself go there yet.

“Jake! Jake, come see!” Elias’s voice barrels down the hall, and before I can brace myself, a small hand grabs mine. His fingers are warm, sticky with excitement. He tugs at me like I have always been his, like there’s no hesitation in trusting me.

“Look! This is my room!” he said jumping up and down

He drags me into one of the guest bedrooms, his chest puffed with pride. He’s already claimed the bed, bouncing on it with wild energy. “It’s perfect, right? Do you think I can put my toys here? And maybe a desk, like in those cartoons? What do you think?”

My throat tightens. Words feel like foreign objects lodged in my mouth. I should say something, anything, but my voice is stuck.

“It’s, yeah,” I manage finally, my voice rough. “It’s a good room Elias.”

His grin widens, and he bounces again, laughing. “I knew you would like it!”

The simplicity of his joy, his acceptance, it guts me. Kids are supposed to doubt strangers. They are supposed to cling to their mother’s side, wary of men they don’t know. But he doesn’t look at me like I’m a stranger.

He looks at me like I’m supposed to be here. Like we have known each other his whole life. 

“Jake, Jake!” Chanel’s voice calls from the other side of the hall. A second later she appears, her curls flying around her face. “Come see my room! It’s prettier than his, I promise!”

She grabs my other hand without hesitation, tugging me toward the opposite room. Suddenly, I’m being pulled in two directions, their little voices filling every corner of the house, their laughter ringing in my ears.

It’s overwhelming.

It’s terrifying.

And it’s beautiful in a way that makes my chest ache.

Chanel drags me into another guest room, already halfway through decorating it in her head. “I want pink curtains here,” she says seriously, pointing to the window. “And maybe a little table for tea parties. Can we do that? Can we have tea parties?”

Her eyes sparkle up at me, hopeful, trusting. I can’t breathe.

This is too much. Too fast. Too close to the truth I’ve been avoiding since the moment I saw them at her hospital bed.

“Sure,” I whisper, though the word feels like a lie. “We will see.”

She beams, clapping her hands before darting across the room, her laughter trailing behind her.

Elias is already shouting something about building a fort. The two of them collide in the hallway, their voices overlapping, tangling into pure joy.

And me?

I stand in the doorway, my chest splitting open.

Because in their faces, in their energy, in the way they fill this house like it’s always belonged to them, I see everything I didn’t know I was missing.

I see my family.

I see a life that could have been mine if things hadn’t shattered the way they did.

And most of all, I see the one truth I have been trying to deny since the second I laid eyes on them.

They are mine.

They have to be mine.

The boy’s resemblance isn’t just coincidence. The timing, the look in Kyla’s eyes when I saw them together, it all lines up. And yet she never told me. She kept this from me. Just like she let me mourn her for five years thinking she is dead. 

Well now I know why she never reached out, but why? 

A flash of anger burns hot in my chest, but it fizzles almost as quickly as it comes, drowned by something stronger. Fear.

“Jake, come play!” Elias calls, his voice bright, his arms already full of pillows as he prepares for battle.

I step into the hall slowly, watching them run wild, their laughter echoing through the country house that suddenly feels alive again.

My heart twists, torn between the instinct to run and the urge to stay right here forever.

I knew i couldn't avoid finally having that talk with Kyla, but I was going to avoid it for as long as I possibly could. I was too furious at her to talk to her, no matter her reasons. 

Keeping my children away from me for five years, robbing them of a father, how could I get past that.