The traffic was heavier than I expected.
Red lights stretched across the road, and the glow from shop windows slid over the windshield as we moved through the city.
Sophie watched the buildings pass.
Noah sat beside her with his notebook closed on his lap.
I kept both hands on the steering wheel.
Nobody spoke for the first few minutes.
Then Sophie leaned forward slightly.
"Mom?"
"Yes?"
"What was Dad like when you first met him?"
I glanced at her in the rearview mirror.
The question took me back further than I wanted to go.
"He was confident," I said. "He knew what he wanted, and he worked hard for it."
"Was he funny?"
"Sometimes."
Noah looked up.
"What did you like about him?"
I thought about the question as we waited at a traffic light.
"I liked how determined he was. When he cared about something, he gave it his full attention."
Noah's expression changed.
"That sounds familiar."
I knew what he meant.
I looked at him through the mirror.
"Yes. It does."
Sophie rested her chin on the back of the seat.
"Did he love you?"
The light turned green.
I drove forward before answering.
"I believe he did, at one time."
"Then why did he send you away?"
There was no simple answer that would make sense to a ten-year-old.
I could explain the arguments.
I could explain how Ethan's priorities had changed.
I could tell her that love was not always enough to make a marriage work.
But the truth was less tidy.
"He made a choice that hurt me," I said. "And he didn't try to repair what he had broken."
Sophie looked out the window.
"That sounds lonely."
"It was."
Noah opened his notebook, then closed it again.
"Did he ever try to contact you afterward?"
"No."
"Not once?"
"Not once."
He stared at the page in front of him.
I knew he was trying to fit that fact into a world where adults were supposed to take responsibility for their choices.
I couldn't help him make it fit.
Some things did not become reasonable simply because someone explained them.
We drove past a row of restaurants.
The streets were bright with evening traffic, and people moved between parked cars and open doors.
Sophie asked whether the gala would have a dance floor.
I told her I wasn't sure.
"Will there be music?"
"Probably."
"Good."
She sat back.
"I hope it's not too loud."
Noah gave her a sideways look.
"You said you wanted a big event."
"I said I wanted to wear my dress. I didn't say I wanted to lose my hearing."
He shook his head.
I smiled at them.
Their ordinary conversation eased something in my chest.
I had worried that telling them about Ethan would make the evening feel too heavy for them.
It had, in some ways.
But they were still children.
They could move from a difficult question to a joke without feeling they had betrayed the seriousness of the moment.
I wanted to learn from that.
A few minutes later, Noah spoke again.
"What if he doesn't believe us?"
I tightened my grip on the steering wheel.
"Lucas has the documentation."
"But what if Dad says it isn't enough?"
"Then we'll deal with that when it happens."
Noah frowned.
"I'd prefer to have a plan."
"I know you would."
He looked down at his notebook.
I kept my voice steady.
"We can prepare for what we know. We can't prepare for every possible thing he might say."
He considered this.
"That is an inefficient situation."
"It is."
He seemed to accept my answer.
When we reached the area near the event venue, the buildings became taller and the traffic slowed.
Cars were stopping near the entrance to a large hotel where guests were arriving in formal clothes.
Men in dark suits stepped out of vehicles.
Women adjusted their coats before walking toward the doors.
The place looked exactly like something Ethan would choose.
Expensive.
Carefully arranged.
Designed to make everyone inside feel that they had entered a world where nothing happened by accident.
I pulled into a nearby parking area and stopped the car.
For a few seconds, I didn't move.
Sophie looked toward the hotel.
"Is that where it is?"
"Yes."
She took a breath.
Then she smoothed the front of her dress.
Noah opened his notebook one last time.
I turned toward him.
"You don't have to ask every question tonight."
"I know."
"You don't have to prove anything."
He looked at me.
"I know that too."
"Then what do you want from him?"
Noah was quiet for a moment.
"I want to know whether he cares that we exist."
The answer hurt because it was so simple.
I reached over and touched his shoulder.
"Whatever happens tonight, you are loved. You have always been loved."
He nodded.
Sophie leaned forward between the seats.
"Me too?"
I turned and kissed her cheek.
"Especially you."
She smiled, though her fingers were twisting the edge of her dress.
I checked my phone.
Lucas had sent a message saying he was inside and ready to meet us.
I replied that we had arrived.
Then I looked at the twins.
"Before we go in, I want to make one thing clear."
They both listened.
"If either of you wants to leave, tell me. You don't have to stay because you think I need you to."
Sophie nodded.
Noah said he understood.
I took my bag and stepped out of the car.
The evening air was cool against my face.
I walked around to help Sophie out, then waited while Noah joined us.
For a moment, the three of us stood beside the car.
I looked at them together.
Noah had Ethan's eyes and the same serious expression.
Sophie had his nose and the faint crease that appeared when she was concentrating.
Their resemblance was impossible to ignore once you knew where to look.
I wondered whether Ethan would see it immediately.
Then I stopped wondering.
We had not come to ask his permission to exist.
We had come because he had denied something that was true.
I took each child's hand.
Together, we walked toward the entrance.
Click here to continue reading: PART 8: At Eight Forty-Five, I Walked Through the Gala Doors With Two Children Who Carried the Face of the Man on the Stage
The Night I Heard My Ex-Husband Tell the World He Had Never Been a Father
Part 7 of 15
