Before I could say anything, the sound of small running feet echoed from the corridor.
"Mommy!"
Two little bodies flew into me. One clinging to my waist, the other wrapping tiny arms around my leg.
Behind them, William appeared, sounding a little out of breath. "They wouldn't stop crying," he said. "Begged me to bring them. I'm sorry."
I shook my head. "It's fine. Thank you."
I knelt to their level, heart still hammering from everything that had happened. My arms wrapped around them instinctively, the familiar weight of them made me feel alive, even if just for a second.
"Aunty?" Zeal cried, with Zia following after.
"Aunty is going to be okay," I whispered, tucking Zeal's curls behind his ear. "She's just a little sick right now, but she's strong."
Zayne stood there frozen.
I didn't have to look at him to know he was staring. I could feel it. When I finally glanced up, his expression made my breath catch.
He looked like he'd seen a ghost. His gaze wasn't just on me. It was locked on the twins.
And then something shifted. At first, there was confusion. A flicker in his eyes. Then surprise. Then something heavier... something that tightened his jaw and pulled a crease between his brows.
His eyes moved between them slowly. Back and forth. Again and again. Like he was trying to make sense of what he was seeing-- trying to undo the image with logic, but failing miserably.
And then he saw it.
The familiar tilt of Zia's smile. The exact curve of her cheeks when she pouted, the shape of her nose when she scrunched it, and the unmistakable singular dimple of her left cheek.
And then there was Zeal.
Zayne's breath hitched. His eyes locked on the little boy standing quietly beside me, and he stilled completely. It was like watching someone come face-to-face with a memory they didn't know had a heartbeat.
The resemblance was undeniable. Zeal was him, just smaller. The same sharp, thoughtful gaze. The same lashes. The same unruly hair. Even the way his brows furrowed slightly, like he was thinking far too deeply for someone his age, it was all him.
But the biggest turning point was the deep blue eyes that were now staring at him. The same as his own. It wasn't just a resemblance. It was a reflection.
He looked like he was staring into a mirror and watching it blink back.
Zeal rubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand and tilted his head curiously.
Zayne's lips parted slightly, like he wanted to speak but forgot how.
I could see the moment realization sank in.
Shock melted into recognition. Confusion twisted into disbelief. The lines on his face told the whole story before a single word left his mouth.
He didn't need anyone to say it. The truth was right in front of him.
William followed his stare, then turned back to Zayne with recognition dawning slowly across his face. "Oh…" he said, eyes narrowing. "It's you."
Zayne didn't answer. Didn't blink. Didn't move.
His eyes were still on Zeal, who, unbothered by the strange tension in the air, burrowed his face against my side, sniffling quietly.
Then, Zia looked up, pointed, and announced like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "It's Doctor Hot Chocolate!"
My head snapped toward her. "What?"
William chuckled under his breath. "It's the doctor I told you about. The one we met at the hospital when the little guy had a fever. That's him."
My heart skipped.
Zayne turned to me slowly, like even that simple movement took effort. His expression said everything. He knew. And there was no going back now. Not that there was to begin with.
I stood up, carefully peeling the twins off of me. "We need to talk," I said quietly.
William looked between us. Confused, yes, but not clueless. Something in his eyes told me he had already pieced together more than he was letting on.
"William," I said gently.
"Yeah," he interrupted, already scooping the twins into his arms. "Kids, come on. Mommy will be right back."
Zia clung tighter to my shirt, but he pried her away with ease. "Let's see if they have chocolate here, huh?"
She perked up instantly. "Chocolate?"
"Chocolate," William repeated like it was a magic word, leading them away.
Zayne and I walked out in silence.
Each step toward the car felt heavier than the last. Like I was walking through thick fog. Or maybe quicksand. There was no easy way out of this conversation.
The inside of the car was too quiet.
I didn't realize I was holding my breath until he spoke. "How old are they?"
My hands trembled in my lap, and I curled them into fists to minimize the shaking. "They'll be four in six months." I didn't look at him-- I couldn't.
The silence between us turned louder than the words we couldn't say.
Zayne shifted slightly, his voice rough, laced with all sorts of emotions. "Are they… do they…"
He didn't finish.
I didn't need him to.
"I've only ever slept with one person my whole life," I whispered.
The truth cracked something open in me. The tears came, swift and hot. I didn't bother to stop them this time.
Zayne didn't move. He just sat there, eyes wide, breath uneven, like he was struggling to anchor himself in reality.
A truth like that doesn't land softly. It hits like a car crash. Sudden, sharp, and irreversible.
He leaned back in his seat slowly, his jaw tense, and his hand gripping the steering wheel like it was the only thing holding him together.
For a moment, neither of us said anything. What could we say at such a moment?
Then he turned to me fully. "What happened?"
I didn't answer right away. Because how do you tell someone they've been a ghost in your story for nearly four years? That they left behind more than just memories?
That while they went back to their world of luxury and power, you were learning how to hold two tiny hearts in your hands?
I looked out the window, the hospital lights blurring into soft glows through my tears.
And still, all I could think was How do I tell him?
Where do I start?
How do I explain that a single night rewrote the rest of my life?