Chapter Thirty Five

Jake.

My heart is hammering so hard I’m afraid they’ll hear it. The little boy on Kyla’s lap lets out another burst of laughter, and it rattles through me, unsteadying me more than any fight ever has. He’s got her smile, that radiant curve that lights up her whole face but when I look closer, something twists inside me.

Because he’s got my eyes. He looks just like me when I was a kid. 

I blink, rub at my chest like I can scrub the thought away. No. That’s impossible. It has to be impossible.

But I can’t shake it. The way his curls fall, the shape of his nose, the spark of mischief in his expression. It’s like looking at an old photograph of myself at five years old. My mother used to joke that she had to write my name on everything because the resemblance between me and my younger pictures was too strong to ignore. And this boy this boy looks like he’s stepped right out of my childhood.

I force a smile, swallowing the rising tide of confusion. The last thing Kyla needs is me unraveling in front of her kids. They deserve peace. They deserve joy, not more chaos.

I step into the room slowly, softening my voice. “Hey there.”

Two little heads swivel toward me. Chanel, the girl, blinks with curious brown eyes so much like Kyla’s it makes my chest ache. Elias, the boy, tilts his head and studies me with unfiltered boldness. Kids don’t hide what they feel the way adults do.

Kyla stiffens, just for a second, before she smooths her expression. She is trying to play it calm, but I see the flicker of panic in her eyes. She hadn’t expected me to walk in like this.

I put the bag down gently on the table by the window, my movements deliberate, careful, like I’m handling glass. Then I crouch a little to their level. “You must be Chanel and Elias.”

The girl nods slowly, then leans back against Kyla’s side, protective in a way that’s too grown up for her age. The boy grins. “That’s us! Who are you?”

My mouth goes dry. Who am I?

I clear my throat. “I’m Jake. I’m.. a friend of your mom’s.”

The word tastes strange. Friend. It feels like a lie and a truth at the same time.

The boy’s brows shoot up. “Mommy, is he really your friend?”

The way he says Mommy slices through me. I glance at Kyla, and she’s frozen for half a heartbeat before she nods. “Yes, baby. He is, he is Mommy’s friend.”

I smile for their sake, but inside I’m reeling. My friend? After everything that passed between us the nights, the confessions, the raw vulnerability she showed me last night that’s all I am? Or is that all she wants them to know?

Elias studies me with unnerving intensity, then blurts out, “He looks like me!”

Chanel rolls her eyes. “You always think everyone looks like you.”

But I can’t laugh. Because he is right. He does look like me. Too much. My chest tightens as if invisible hands are squeezing the air out of my lungs.

I force myself to sit on the edge of the visitor’s chair, keeping my smile gentle. “Well, you have got a sharp eye there, Elias. I think you might be onto something.”

He beams, and my heart stutters again.

Meanwhile, my brain won’t stop spinning. Why didn’t Kyla tell me she had children? Did she think I’d walk away if I knew? Did she not trust me enough? And more than that, why does this boy look like me?

I try to ground myself in the moment, listening as Elias jabbers about pancakes Mara made, while Chanel shyly shows me the picture she drew for her mother. But beneath every word, every laugh, the questions pound at me like war drums.

Kyla’s watching me carefully. I can feel her eyes tracing my every reaction, trying to gauge if I’ll break. She doesn’t realize I already am.

I steal glances at her when the kids aren’t looking. She’s radiant with them, softer than I’ve ever seen her, her hands instinctively smoothing their hair, her eyes lighting up at their stories. It hits me hard this is her world. These two little souls are the reason she’s survived everything.

And I wasn’t prepared for it.

“Jake?”

Chanel’s small voice pulls me back. She’s staring at me, curious and cautious. “Are you gonna help Mommy get better?”

Something lodges in my throat. I want to tell her yes, I’ll do everything in my power to make sure their mother is safe, healed, whole. But the weight of my confusion presses down on me.

“I will try my best,” I say softly. “That’s what friends are for, right?”

She nods, satisfied, and leans back against Kyla again.

But the word won’t stop echoing in my head. Friend. Friend. Friend.

I can’t sit here much longer. The air feels too thin, the questions too loud. Every time Elias looks at me, I see my younger self staring back. Every time Kyla avoids my eyes, I feel the gap between us widening, thick with secrets.

I push myself to my feet, forcing another smile for the kids. “It was really nice to meet you both. You have got a wonderful mom.”

Elias grins and waves like we’ve known each other for years. Chanel offers me a shy smile. My heart twists.

“I’m going to step out for a bit,” I murmur, my eyes flicking to Kyla’s just long enough for her to see the storm I’m holding back. “I will, I will be back.”

Before she can respond, I turn and leave the room, the walls closing in on me with every step down the hallway.

Because the truth is, I don’t know how to breathe around this revelation.

And I don’t know what it means that when I looked at her son, for one terrifying moment, I thought I was looking at my own son. 

And their names, Chanel and Elias, we always talked about naming our kids Elias and Chanel.