My billionaire ex-husband blamed me for our childless marriage and walked away—eight years later, he entered a restaurant and saw me sitting with twins who had his unmistakable eyes.

Chapter 2

The question hung in the air between us like a held breath.

Eight years old. They’re eight years old. They were eight years old the day you remarried, and six the first time Zara asked me why some families had fathers who lived in the same house, and three the morning Eli looked at a photograph of a man in a suit and said, “That could be my dad,” and I had to leave the room before he could see my face.

I said none of that.

“Dominic,” I said carefully, “this is not the place.”

His eyes didn’t leave mine. “Where is the place? Because I’ve been looking for it for — “