She swallowed hard, her chin lifting slightly in that defiant way I used to love. “Yes. They’re yours. This is Leo, and this is Sam.” She tightened her grip on their hands. “But you don’t need to worry about it, Ethan. We’re fine. We’re doing just fine.”

Fine. She was counting pennies for a cinnamon roll while I was about to close a nine-figure deal. The contrast made me physically nauseous.

“Clara, please,” I said, my voice cracking. “Let me buy them breakfast. Please. Just… let’s sit down for five minutes.”

She looked like she wanted to run, but Sam tugged at her hand, his little stomach letting out an audible growl. Defeated, she nodded slowly. We sat in the corner booth. I ordered everything the cafe had—eggs, bacon, pancakes, fresh juice. When the food arrived, the boys ate like they hadn’t seen a full meal in days. Clara didn’t touch her food. She just watched me, her posture rigid, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked, keeping my voice low so the boys wouldn’t hear.

“You made your priorities clear, Ethan,” she said softly, but the words cut like glass. “The day I found out I was pregnant was the same day you missed my father’s funeral because you had a networking event. I knew if I told you, you’d throw money at the situation and hire nannies to raise them while you conquered the world. I wanted to raise a family. I didn’t want to raise board members.”

Tears stung my eyes. Every word was entirely true. I had been a monster. I had traded the only person who ever truly loved me for a bank account. And looking at Leo and Sam, laughing as they covered their faces in syrup, I realized exactly what that trade had cost me.

I had missed their first steps. Their first words. I had missed two and a half years of being a father.

Suddenly, my phone began to vibrate violently against the wooden table. The caller ID flashed: David, my lead attorney. It was time. The buyers were at the office. The papers were printed. If I didn’t walk through those doors in the next ten minutes, the merger would collapse. The deal that would cement my legacy, the deal I had sacrificed my marriage for, was waiting.

Clara looked at the phone, then at me. She offered a sad, knowing smile. “You should get that. We need to get going anyway. Thank you for breakfast, Ethan.” She started wiping the boys’ faces with a napkin, preparing to disappear back into the crowd, out of my life again.

I looked at the flashing phone. I thought about the corner office, the stock options, the Forbes features. Then I looked at Sam, who had stopped eating and was offering me a piece of his bacon with a sticky little hand.

I picked up the phone and answered.