I woke before the alarm on Saturday.
For a while, I lay still and listened to the house.
The heating system clicked.
A car passed outside.
Somewhere down the hall, a floorboard creaked as one of the children turned in bed.
Nothing about the morning felt important.
That almost made it harder.
I had expected to wake with a clear sense of purpose, as if ten years of waiting would somehow arrange themselves into courage.
Instead, I felt tired.
I got up and made coffee.
The mug I used was chipped along the rim, and I had meant to replace it for months.
I held it in both hands while I watched the light grow outside the kitchen window.
Then I checked my phone.
Lucas had sent a short message.
"Everything remains arranged. I'll see you this evening."
I replied that we would be there.
Noah appeared a few minutes later.
He was already dressed, though the event wasn't until the evening.
"You know we have the whole day, right?" I asked.
"I wanted to make sure everything was ready."
He had placed his notebook beside his schoolbag.
I pointed toward the table.
"Breakfast first."
He sat down.
"Do you think we should bring identification?"
I looked at him.
"For what purpose?"
"In case someone asks who we are."
I sat across from him.
"Lucas has the necessary documents. We won't need to show everyone our personal information."
"All right."
He seemed satisfied.
Then he asked whether the company had a public history of its growth.
I told him I didn't know.
He went quiet, considering something.
"Maybe I should ask Dad about that."
The word came out naturally.
Neither of us moved.
Noah looked at me.
"Is it strange if I call him Dad when I've never met him?"
I shook my head.
"You can call him whatever feels right to you. You don't owe him a particular word."
He looked relieved.
"I'll decide when I see him."
"That's fair."
After breakfast, he went back to his room.
I spent the next hour doing chores I could easily have left until Sunday.
I changed the sheets in my bedroom.
I wiped the kitchen counter.
I sorted the mail into piles.
The work gave my hands something to do while my mind returned to the same questions.
Would Ethan recognize the resemblance immediately?
Would he deny it?
Would he try to speak to the children before he spoke to me?
Would he even believe the evidence?
I couldn't answer any of those questions.
I had no way of knowing what kind of man he had become when he wasn't standing beneath studio lights.
The interview had shown me a polished version of him.
It hadn't shown me whether he could face a truth that damaged his carefully maintained image.
At noon, Sophie came into the kitchen carrying her dress.
"Can you check it one more time?"
I took it from her.
There was nothing wrong with it.
I examined the seams anyway, then handed it back.
"You're all set."
She smiled.
"Do you think Dad likes blue?"
"I don't know."
"That's okay. I like it."
She carried the dress back to her room.
I stood at the kitchen counter, thinking about how much I didn't know.
I didn't know Ethan's favorite food anymore.
I didn't know whether he still drank his coffee black.
I didn't know how he spent his mornings or what he did when he couldn't sleep.
I didn't know whether he had ever looked at an old photograph of us.
I didn't know whether he had wondered where I went after the divorce.
For ten years, I had built a life that did not require those answers.
Now I was going to stand in front of him and learn what he did with the truth.
In the afternoon, Lucas called to confirm the final timing.
He reminded me that we would arrive at eight forty-five.
Ethan was scheduled to begin his address at eight thirty.
"We'll have the documents with us," he said. "You won't need to carry everything yourself."
"Thank you."
"One more question. Have the twins asked anything else?"
"Some practical questions. Noah wants to know what he'll say."
"And Sophie?"
"She wants to look nice."
Lucas gave a small laugh.
"That sounds like a reasonable plan."
"It does."
When we finished, I sat on the sofa and looked around the room.
The twins' drawings were attached to the refrigerator.
A pair of muddy shoes sat near the front door.
A stack of books waited beside the television.
This was the life I had built.
It wasn't the life I had imagined when I married Ethan, but it belonged to me.
I had learned to stop measuring it against the things I lost.
I didn't need him to validate the years I had spent raising our children.
I needed him to stop pretending those years had never happened.
At five, I started getting ready.
I showered, dried my hair, and put on the dark dress I had chosen.
I kept my jewelry simple.
When I looked in the mirror, I saw the woman who had survived the divorce, the pregnancy, and the early years of raising twins alone.
I also saw the woman who was still angry.
Both were true.
I didn't try to hide that from myself.
Noah emerged from his room wearing a neatly pressed shirt and dark trousers.
He adjusted his glasses in the hallway mirror.
"Is this formal enough?"
"Yes."
He tugged at one cuff.
"Good."
Sophie came out a few minutes later in her blue sparkly dress.
She had brushed her hair and put on the shoes she had been testing all day.
She turned once in front of us.
"Well?"
Noah looked her over with exaggerated seriousness.
"Acceptable."
She threw a cushion at him.
I laughed.
The sound surprised me.
For a moment, the tension eased.
We ate a light dinner before leaving.
I made sure the children had eaten enough, even though Sophie was too excited to finish everything on her plate.
Noah checked his notebook.
I checked my bag.
Then I checked the bag again.
The parentage documents were with Lucas.
I had my phone, my keys, and the small wallet I carried everywhere.
Nothing else was needed.
At the front door, Sophie took my hand.
"Are you nervous?"
"Yes."
She squeezed my fingers.
"Me too."
Noah stepped beside us.
"We should leave now if we're going to arrive on time."
I looked at him.
"You're right."
I turned off the lights and locked the door.
The click of the lock sounded ordinary.
That was what I held on to as we walked to the car.
We were still a family.
We were still the same three people who had eaten breakfast together that morning.
Whatever happened at the gala, that part could not be taken away.
I started the engine.
The twins fastened their seat belts.
Then we pulled away from the curb and headed toward the city.
Click here to continue reading: PART 7: On the Drive Downtown, My Children Asked About the Man They Had Inherited So Much From but Never Known
The Night I Heard My Ex-Husband Tell the World He Had Never Been a Father
Part 6 of 15
