Chapter 6 - THE LETTERS HIS MOTHER BURIEDNobody moved.
The music had stopped.
The waiters stood motionless beside their serving carts.
Five hundred guests watched Ethan Sullivan kneel in front of two children who looked so much like him that nobody needed an explanation.
Lily's question still hung in the air.
If you're our dad, why didn't you want us?
Ethan opened his mouth.
No sound came out.
I knew that feeling.
I had experienced it ten years earlier, when he dropped thirty dollars at my feet.
The shock of realizing your entire life had just changed.
"Sweetheart," he finally whispered, "I didn't know."
I felt my hands turn cold.
There it was.
The answer I had feared.
The answer I had expected.
The answer he might actually believe.
Noah frowned.
"You didn't know we were born?"
Ethan shook his head.
"No."
"But Mom told you she was pregnant."
A terrible silence followed.
Ethan looked up at me.
I met his eyes.
"Yes," I said. "I did."
He closed his eyes.
I continued quietly.
"And after you accused me of cheating, I sent letters. I called. I even sent photographs from the hospital."
His eyes opened.
"Photographs?"
"Yes."
"I never received photographs."
I took a slow breath.
"That doesn't change the fact that you rejected me when I told you I was pregnant."
His expression crumpled.
"I know."
It was the first time he'd admitted it without defending himself.
Then Margaret Sullivan stepped into the aisle.
"Enough!"
Every head turned.
She approached us with a smile that looked painfully forced.
"Ethan, darling, you're making a spectacle of yourself."
He rose slowly.
"Mother."
Margaret looked at me.
"Claire, surely you understand this isn't the place for your private grievances."
I looked down at my children.
Lily was trembling.
Noah's jaw was clenched.
I had promised them that we could leave whenever they wanted.
So I turned toward Olivia.
"Take them to the private lounge."
Ethan took a step forward.
"Wait—"
I raised my hand.
"Don't."
He stopped.
"You've waited ten years to meet them," I said. "You can wait another few minutes while I make sure they're okay."
He looked at the twins.
Then nodded.
Olivia led them toward a side corridor with our security escort.
Lily glanced back once.
Ethan lifted a hand.
She didn't wave.
That hurt him more than anything I could have said.
Margaret grabbed Ethan's arm.
"Darling, listen to me."
He pulled away.
"Did you know?"
Her eyes widened.
"Know what?"
"About Claire's children."
She looked around at the crowd.
"This is hardly appropriate."
"Did you know?" he repeated.
Vanessa hurried toward us.
"Ethan, please. Everyone's watching."
He turned sharply.
"Then let them watch."
A murmur swept across the room.
Vanessa lowered her voice.
"You can't possibly believe those children are yours based on their appearance."
Ethan stared at her.
"You knew Claire was pregnant."
"We all knew she claimed to be pregnant."
He flinched.
Margaret stepped closer.
"Claire was involved with another man. You remember."
Ethan looked at her.
"Who?"
Margaret blinked.
"What?"
"The other man. Tell me his name."
She said nothing.
"You told me there was an affair. Vanessa told me there was an affair. For ten years, I've repeated that story to myself. So tell me his name."
Vanessa crossed her arms.
"His name isn't important."
Ethan laughed bitterly.
"Then where did he live?"
Neither woman answered.
"Did anyone ever see him and Claire together?"
Margaret's lips tightened.
"You're emotional."
"No. I think I'm finally asking questions I should have asked ten years ago."
I stood a few feet away, listening.
Part of me wanted to enjoy watching them unravel.
But I couldn't.
Not while my children were sitting in another room wondering whether their father was ashamed of them.
I stepped forward.
"Ethan, this doesn't need to happen in front of five hundred people."
He looked at me.
"Can we speak privately?"
"Rebecca needs to be present."
"Fine."
"And Gabriel."
He nodded.
"Anyone you want."
Margaret immediately protested.
"Absolutely not."
Ethan turned.
"Mother, you're not invited."
Her face went pale.
Gabriel arranged a private conference room on the hotel's executive floor.
Rebecca came with me.
Ethan entered several minutes later.
He looked as though he'd aged ten years since stepping onto the stage.
His bow tie hung loose around his collar.
His hands trembled.
He sat across from me.
For a long moment, neither of us spoke.
Then he whispered, "Twins."
I looked away.
"A boy and a girl."
"How old?"
"Ten."
"When were they born?"
"October seventeenth, 2016."
He covered his face.
"My God."
I watched him carefully.
"Why?"
He looked up.
"What?"
"Why did you tell the interviewer you wished you had children?"
His eyes filled.
"Because I did."
"You had them."
"I know that now."
"No, Ethan. You knew I was pregnant."
He swallowed.
"I thought—"
"You thought I cheated."
"Yes."
"Did you ever ask me who I'd supposedly cheated with?"
"No."
"Did you ever ask for a paternity test?"
He shook his head.
"Did you ever call me after you threw me out?"
His eyes dropped.
"No."
I felt something inside me settle.
For years, I'd imagined confronting him.
I'd pictured shouting.
Crying.
Demanding explanations.
But now, sitting across from the man who had once held my entire heart, I felt strangely calm.
"Then whatever your mother did afterward, Ethan, you still made your own choice."
A tear slipped down his cheek.
"I know."
He looked at Rebecca.
"Can I request a DNA test?"
Rebecca nodded.
"Claire has already agreed in principle, provided the children are protected and the process is handled privately."
He turned toward me.
"Thank you."
I shook my head.
"Don't thank me. They're not evidence in a corporate dispute. They're children, and their wellbeing comes first."
He nodded.
"Of course."
Rebecca opened her briefcase.
"There's another matter."
She placed copies of Eleanor's documents on the table.
Ethan stared at the first envelope.
Then the second.
Then the third.
His face changed.
"What is this?"
"Letters Claire sent after the divorce," Rebecca explained.
He picked up the hospital announcement.
The photograph inside showed Noah and Lily wrapped in matching white blankets.
Their names were written beneath the picture.
NOAH JAMES BENNETT — 6 LBS, 4 OZ.
LILY GRACE BENNETT — 5 LBS, 13 OZ.
Ethan pressed the photograph between shaking fingers.
"These are my children?"
I nodded.
He stared for a long time.
Then a sob escaped him.
He bent forward, clutching the photograph.
I looked away.
Not because I pitied him.
Because I remembered taking that picture.
I remembered being too weak to stand after an emergency delivery.
I remembered asking a nurse to help position the babies.
And I remembered writing Ethan's address on the envelope, still believing that seeing their faces might bring him back.
"Ethan," Gabriel said quietly, "there's more."
He handed him the memorandum signed by Margaret.
Ethan read it.
His face hardened.
"She intercepted them?"
"That is what the document indicates," Gabriel replied.
Ethan continued reading.
"She told me Claire was trying to extort money."
I stared at him.
"Did she?"
He nodded miserably.
"She said your attorney had demanded millions in exchange for keeping quiet about the pregnancy."
Rebecca leaned forward.
"Claire never authorized any such demand. We will need to investigate whether documents were fabricated."
Ethan looked at me.
"I thought you wanted to ruin me."
I laughed once.
It sounded terrible.
"Ruin you?"
He flinched.
"I was working six nights a week to pay for diapers. I had two premature babies who needed regular medical care. I was trying to keep a roof over our heads."
His face crumpled.
"And you thought I had time to ruin you?"
He closed his eyes.
"I'm sorry."
Those words were ten years late.
But I couldn't deny how badly I had once wanted to hear them.
Downstairs, Vanessa was losing control.
She paced inside a private dressing room while Margaret stood near the window.
"This is your fault," Vanessa hissed.
Margaret turned.
"My fault?"
"You assured me those letters were gone!"
"They were supposed to be."
"Well, clearly someone kept copies."
Margaret gripped her handbag.
"Eleanor Hayes."
Vanessa's eyes narrowed.
"That old woman?"
"She was the only person with access."
Vanessa pulled out her phone.
"We need to find out exactly what Claire knows."
Margaret shook her head.
"It's too late."
"Don't say that."
"Vanessa, Ethan saw the children. He believes they're his."
"Then we'll make him doubt it."
Margaret stared at her.
"How?"
Vanessa smiled coldly.
"DNA tests can be manipulated."
"No."
"Medical records can disappear."
"No!"
Vanessa stepped closer.
"Do you suddenly have a conscience?"
Margaret's face twisted.
"Those are my grandchildren."
Vanessa laughed.
"You didn't care about them ten years ago."
Margaret looked away.
"That was different."
"How?"
"We were trying to save the company."
Vanessa leaned closer.
"Exactly. We were saving the company. And if Ethan finds out how we did it, everything falls apart."
Margaret looked terrified.
"What do you want?"
Vanessa opened her purse.
Inside was the small flash drive.
"I want Claire to disappear again."
Upstairs, Ethan was still staring at the newborn photograph.
Then his phone vibrated.
An unknown number had sent him a video.
The message read:
Before you believe Claire, watch what she did ten years ago.
He pressed play.
A younger Claire appeared on the screen.
She was sitting at a table, crying.
A man's voice asked, "So you're admitting Ethan isn't the father?"
The younger Claire lowered her head.
Then a distorted voice replied:
"No. He isn't."
Ethan went completely still.
My stomach dropped.
Because the woman on that recording had my face.
May you like
But the voice answering the question wasn't mine.
And I knew exactly who had arranged it.
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