A multimillionaire waited for an Uber when he spotted his ex, whom he hadnt seen in six years, holding hands with two children who looked just like him. He wasnt prepared for what would happen next.
They stood by the kerb outside a bookshop in the city centre, fiddling with matching navy-blue caps and laughing at some private joke. Both had the same sandy blond hair, the same tiny dimple on the left cheek, the same restless energy hed had at their age. They looked about five or sixstill young enough to dash everywhere instead of walking.
Michaels Uber app showed his driver arriving in three minutes. He checked the map on his phone, then glanced back at the children.
Then she stepped out of the bookshop.
Sophie.
For a moment, Michael thought his eyes were playing tricks. He hadnt seen her in six years, not since that frosty November morning when theyd parted ways. She wore a cream jumper and dark jeans, her hair slightly shorter but still that soft brown he remembered. She looked older, but in the way of someone whod grown into themselvessteadier, more rooted.
And when she reached for the childrens hands, something tightened in Michaels chest.
The Uber alert chimed. Two minutes.
He could leave. Step into the car, head to his meeting, and pretend this moment never happened. But his feet stayed planted.
Sophie noticed him as she adjusted the younger boys backpack strap. Her eyes widenednot in shock, more like recognition edged with hesitation.
Michael, she said carefully.
Sophie. His throat went dry. Hello.
The children stared at him, curious. The older one tilted his head. Whos that, Mum?
*Mum.*
The word hit harder than he expected.
This is an old friend, Sophie said after a pause. Michael, these are my sons, Oliver and Harry.
Both gave him a little wave. Oliver, the elder, had Michaels exact eye colourgrey with a thin green ring. Harry had his nose. Michael told himself he was imagining things, but the resemblance was too stark to ignore.
They seem like good lads, he said, voice steadier than he felt.
Thank you. Sophie smiled, though it didnt reach her eyes.
A silence followedlong enough for the air between them to thicken with six years of unspoken words.
So you live around here? Michael asked, more to keep her there than out of curiosity.
Not far, she replied. We moved back about a year ago.
The Uber icon showed the driver turning onto the street.
Michael hesitated. He wanted to ask about the children, about their father. But the last time theyd spoken, *he* had ended things. Back then, hed been too focused on building his business, too convinced love and ambition couldnt coexist. Now, a multimillionaire with a lavish flat but no one waiting in it, the choice seemed far less clear.
The boys were distracted by a passing dog, giving Michael a moment alone with Sophie.
They seem He trailed off. Happy. Thats good.
They are, she said softly. Weve managed.
He nodded, though part of him burned to ask more.
The Uber pulled up. The driver rolled down the window. Michael?
He glanced at the car, then back at Sophie. She held the boys hands again, ready to leave.
It was nice seeing you, he said.
You too. She tightened her grip on her phone.
He climbed into the Uber, but as it pulled away, he turned. The children were watching the car, and for a fleeting moment, Harrys crooked grinidentical to the one in Michaels old family photosmade his chest ache.
He had no idea this brief encounter would unravel a truth capable of rewriting the last six years of his life.
**Part Two The Truth**
Michael hadnt planned to see Sophie again. But life, in its messy unpredictability, cares little for plans.
Three days later, as he left a café, someone called his name. Sophie stood across the street, a shopping bag in hand. The boys werent with her.
Got a minute? she asked.
They ended up on a bench in the park, the bag at her feet. No small talk this time.
I should explain, she began. About the boys.
Michael braced himself. Sophie, you dont owe me
Theyre yours, Michael.
The words hit like a punch. For a second, all he heard was the distant hum of traffic.
He 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 this kind of life.
Michael stared. I never got anything. No calls, no emails.
Her brow furrowed. I used your old work address.
I sold that company a month after we broke up. Changed everything.
They 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.
Michael exhaled sharply, his mind flooded with all hed missedfirst words, first steps, birthdays. Two whole childhoods he never knew were his.
Oliver and Harry, he repeated slowly, savouring the names in a new light. Theyre my sons.
Sophie nodded.
For the first time since their breakup, she didnt seem guarded. Just tiredlike someone whod carried too much alone for too long.
Michael leaned forward, elbows on knees. I want to be part of their lives.
She studied him. Its not that simple. They dont know who you are not like that. Andtheyre everything to me.
Im not trying to take them, he said firmly. I just cant walk away. Not now.
Her expression softened slightly, though uncertainty lingered. Wed have to take it slow.
I can do slow, he said. But I cant do nothing.
They talked for another hour, piecing together a fragile plana lunch the following week, for now just Mums friend Michael. No big reveal until the boys were ready.
As they parted, Sophie looked at him with something close to relief. Youve changed, she said.
Maybe. Or maybe I finally figured out what matters.
That evening, in his flat overlooking the city, Michael sat in silence, replaying the day. For years, hed believed success meant building something from nothing. But now he knew the truth: the most important thing hed ever build hadnt even started yettwo children, and a second chance.
