They were busy fighting over who got the biggest piece of roast potatoes.
Samuel asked Adrian:
“Do you have a dog?”
Adrian blinked.
“No.”
“You should get one.”
Daniel laughed.
“You don’t tell grown-ups what to do.”
Samuel shrugged.
“He asked.”
For the first time that evening, Adrian smiled.
A real smile.
And I saw it.
The boys saw it too.
Something changed.
Adrian kept looking at them.
Not staring anymore.
Studying.
Learning.
Ethan noticed.
“Why do you keep looking at us?”
The table went silent.
Adrian put down his fork.
“Because you remind me of someone.”
“Who?”
Adrian looked at me.
Then back at Ethan.
“Me.”
The boys laughed.
“No way.”
“Yeah,” Daniel said. “Mom says we’re all different.”
Adrian smiled sadly.
“You are.”
Then Samuel asked:
“Are you our dad?”
The room became completely silent.
I closed my eyes.
This was the moment I had feared.
Adrian looked at me.
I nodded.
He turned toward Samuel.
“Yes.”
Samuel stared at him.
Then looked at his brothers.
“So you’re Dad?”
Adrian swallowed.
“Yes.”
No one spoke.
Then Noah asked:
“Why didn’t you come before?”
Adrian couldn’t answer.
That question came from an eight-year-old.
But it carried eight years of silence.
Finally, Adrian said:
“Because I made a terrible mistake.”
Noah frowned.
“What kind?”
Adrian looked at me.
“The kind that can hurt people for a very long time.”
Ethan studied him.
“Are you sorry?”
Adrian nodded.
“Every day.”
Ethan thought about it.
Then he picked up a potato.
“Okay.”
Adrian looked surprised.
“Okay?”
“You said you’re sorry.”
“That doesn’t fix it.”
“I know.”
The boy shrugged.
“But it’s Christmas.”
I almost cried.
Page 6
Later that night, Vanessa found me alone in the kitchen.
She closed the door behind her.
“I owe you an apology.”
I looked at her.
“For what?”
“For the invitation.”
I waited.
She took a breath.
“When Adrian told me about you, he made it sound very different.”
“I imagined he did.”
“He said you claimed he was the father.”
“I didn’t claim anything. He was my husband.”
She nodded.
“I know.”
“What changed?”
She looked down.
“I saw the boys.”
Silence.
Then she whispered:
“Adrian lied to me.”
I didn’t respond.
“He told me the pregnancy was complicated.”
I looked at her.
“He told me there was never proof.”
“That isn’t true.”
“I know.”
