**Diary Entry**
I was waiting for an Uber when I saw hermy ex, whom I hadnt laid eyes on in six years, holding hands with two children who looked exactly like me. I never expected what came next.
They stood on the pavement outside a bookshop in the city centre, fiddling with matching navy-blue caps and laughing at some private joke. Both had sandy blond hair, the same dimple on their left cheeks, and that restless energy I remembered from my own childhood. They couldnt have been more than five or sixstill young enough to dart about instead of walking properly.
My Uber app said the driver would arrive in three minutes. I checked the map, then glanced back at the children.
And then she stepped out of the shop.
Emily.
For a second, I thought my mind was playing tricks. I hadnt seen her since that grey November morning when wed said goodbye. She wore a cream jumper and dark jeans, her hair slightly shorter but still that soft chestnut I remembered. She looked oldernot in a weary way, but settled, as if life had grounded her.
When she reached for the boys hands, something tightened in my chest.
The Uber alert chimed. Two minutes.
I could leave. Get in the car, head to my meeting, and pretend this never happened. But my feet stayed rooted.
Emily noticed me as she adjusted the younger boys rucksack strap. Her eyes widenednot with shock, but recognition mixed with hesitation.
James, she said carefully.
Emily. My throat went dry. Hello.
The boys studied me curiously. The elder tilted his head. Whos that, Mum?
*Mum.*
The word hit harder than I expected.
An old friend, Emily answered after a pause. James, these are my sons, Oliver and Henry.
Both gave small waves. Oliver, the elder, had my eyesgrey with a faint green ring. Henry had my nose. I told myself I was imagining things, but the resemblance was impossible to ignore.
They seem like good lads, I said, forcing steadiness into my voice.
They are. Emily smiled, though it didnt reach her eyes.
Silence settledlong enough for the air between us to thicken with six years of unspoken words.
So you live around here? I asked, more to keep her there than out of real curiosity.
Not far. We moved back about a year ago.
The Uber icon showed the driver turning onto the street.
I hesitated. I wanted to ask about the boys, about their father. But the last time wed spoken, I was the one who ended things. Back then, Id been obsessed with building my business, convinced love and ambition couldnt coexist. Now, a multimillionaire with a penthouse but no one to come home to, the choice didnt seem so clear.
The boys were distracted by a passing dog, giving me a moment alone with Emily.
They look I trailed off. Happy. Thats good.
They are, she said softly. Weve managed.
I nodded, though part of me burned with questions.
The Uber pulled up. The driver rolled down the window. James?
I glanced at the car, then back at Emily. She had the boys hands again, ready to leave.
It was nice seeing you, I said.
You too. She tightened her grip on her phone.
I got in the car, but as we drove off, I turned. The boys were watching, and for a brief moment, Henrys lopsided grinidentical to the one in my childhood photosmade my chest ache.
I had no idea that fleeting encounter would unravel a truth capable of rewriting the last six years of my life.
**Part Two The Truth**
I didnt plan to see Emily again. But life, messy and unpredictable, doesnt care much for plans.
Three days later, I was leaving a café when I heard my name. Emily stood across the road, a shopping bag in hand. The boys werent with her.
Got a minute? she asked.
We ended up on a park bench, her bag at her feet. No pleasantries this time.
I owe you an explanation, she began. About the boys.
I braced myself. Emily, you dont
Theyre yours, James.
The words hit like a punch. For a second, all I heard was the distant hum of traffic.
I blinked. I what?
After we split, I found out I was pregnant. I tried calling, but your number had changed. I emailed, but you never replied. I thought youd made it clear you didnt want that kind of life.
I stared. I never got anything. No call, no email.
Her brow furrowed. I used your old work address.
I sold that company a month after we broke up. Changed everything.
We sat in silence, crushed by the weight of six lost years.
I didnt know how to find you, she said quietly. And I wasnt going to chase someone whod already left.
I exhaled sharply, my head spinning with all Id missedfirst words, first steps, birthdays. Two whole childhoods I never knew were mine.
Oliver and Henry, I repeated slowly, tasting their names anew. Theyre my sons.
Emily nodded.
For the first time since our split, she didnt seem guarded. Just tiredlike someone whod carried too much alone for too long.
I leaned forward, elbows on my knees. I want to be part of their lives.
She studied me. Its not that simple. They dont know who you arenot like that. And Ive been their only parent. Theyre everything to me.
Im not trying to take them, I said firmly. I just cant walk away now.
Her expression softened slightly, though uncertainty lingered. Wed have to take it slow.
I can do slow. But I cant do nothing.
We talked for another hour, piecing together a fragile planlunch next week, just as Mums friend James. No big revelation until the boys were ready.
As we parted, Emily looked at me with something close to relief. Youve changed, she said.
Maybe. Or maybe I finally realised what actually matters.
That night, in my penthouse overlooking the city, I sat in silence, replaying the day. For years, Id thought success meant building something from nothing. Now I knew the truth: the most important thing Id ever build hadnt even started yettwo children, and a second chance.
