“Those children have my eyes,” Damian Beckett said in the middle of the crowded restaurant. “Amelia, tell me right now who their father is.”
The conversation around our table died away instantly, as if someone had turned down the volume in the entire room. Damian stood a few feet away, completely motionless, with Alyssa Perez on his arm and an engagement ring gleaming on her hand. My triplets looked up at him at the exact same time.
Elijah frowned deeply. Kayden gripped his water glass. Atlas, who always spoke his mind, pointed a finger directly at Damian.
“He makes the same face I do when he gets angry,” Atlas said.
I felt the heavy weight of the past close my throat, but I refused to let it show. I took out my phone, started recording quietly, and placed it safely on my lap.
I had not gone to The Copper Bistro in Cherry Creek to meet with my ex-husband. I was there because the head chef wanted to hire my catering company, Three Spoons, to design their new children’s menus. Five years earlier, I had left the Beckett family with only a single suitcase, a high-risk pregnancy, and the absolute conviction that no one was going to rescue me. Now I supported local daycare centers, medical clinics, and two private schools. I was not rich, but every single dollar that came into my bank account had my own name on it.
Damian walked slowly toward us. He was still the exact same man who appeared on the covers of business magazines, wearing an impeccable custom suit, speaking with a confident voice, and carrying a surname that could open any door. However, when he looked down at the children, he seemed to have completely forgotten how to breathe.
“How old are you?” Damian asked, his voice shaking slightly.
“Five years old,” Elijah answered.
The simple words hit Damian incredibly hard. Alyssa went completely pale next to him. She knew the dates very well, since our divorce had been finalized when I was already secretly pregnant.
