Lorraine kept looking at the children.
She seemed unable to decide whether she should cry or smile.
I understood.
She had just discovered that she had four grandchildren.
Eight years of birthdays had passed.
Eight Christmas mornings.
Eight years of photographs, school memories, and ordinary family moments.
She had missed all of them.
So had Terrence.
But unlike Lorraine, he had made a decision that had started everything.
His fiancée was still standing near the Christmas tree.
Her red dress looked unusually bright against the room's decorations.
She glanced down at the ring box.
Then she looked at Terrence.
"You knew?"
He shook his head.
"No."
The answer came quickly.
She looked at me.
"Did you tell him?"
I held her gaze.
"I tried."
She frowned.
"What does that mean?"
"It means I told him I was pregnant before our marriage ended."
Terrence lowered his eyes.
I continued.
"He didn't believe me."
His fiancée turned toward him.
"Terrence?"
He rubbed his forehead.
"That's not how I remember everything."
I almost laughed.
Not because I wanted to embarrass him.
Because I had spent years remembering every detail of that day.
I remembered where I had stood.
I remembered the expression on his face.
I remembered the words he used.
And I remembered the divorce papers that followed.
"Then tell us how you remember it."
He looked at me.
For a moment, I thought he might finally explain himself.
But he didn't.
He simply looked toward the children again.
Mason had begun examining a small Christmas decoration near the edge of the room.
Wyatt stood beside him.
Delilah was watching Lorraine.
Savannah held my hand.
They were trying to understand the adults around them.
I wanted to make sure they didn't feel uncomfortable.
"Would you four like to sit down?"
Mason nodded.
The children moved toward the nearby seating area.
Lorraine immediately offered them a place beside her.
I watched her carefully.
She was trying.
That mattered.
She had not been the person who walked out of my marriage.
But she was part of the family that had been absent from the children's lives.
And I didn't want to decide what kind of relationship they could have before giving them an opportunity to meet.
Terrence remained standing.
His fiancée finally bent down and picked up the engagement ring box.
She closed it.
Then she placed it on a nearby table.
The small movement caught my attention.
She didn't put the ring away.
She didn't put it back on.
She simply set the box down.
I wondered what she was thinking.
Perhaps she was remembering every conversation she had ever had with Terrence about his previous marriage.
Perhaps she was wondering whether he had told her the whole story.
I couldn't answer those questions.
They belonged to the two of them.
Lorraine sat beside Savannah.
She spoke gently.
"What's your name, sweetheart?"
"Savannah."
Lorraine smiled.
"That's a beautiful name."
Savannah smiled back.
Then Lorraine looked at the other children.
"And you?"
They introduced themselves.
Mason.
Wyatt.
Delilah.
Savannah.
Lorraine repeated each name quietly.
I watched her face.
She seemed to be trying to memorize everything at once.
Terrence finally came closer.
He stopped several feet from the children.
"Mason?"
Mason looked up.
"Yes?"
Terrence hesitated.
Then he looked at me.
I knew what he wanted.
Permission.
Not to become their father in one afternoon.
Not to erase eight years.
Just to speak to them.
I nodded slightly.
He turned back toward Mason.
"How are you, son?"
Mason looked at him.
"I'm good."
There was nothing unusual about the answer.
It was the answer any child might give to an adult they had just met.
But I saw Terrence react.
He seemed to understand that Mason didn't know him.
There was no familiar greeting.
No excitement.
No running into his arms.
Only a polite answer.
Wyatt glanced at his brother.
Delilah watched Terrence quietly.
Savannah moved closer to Lorraine.
Terrence looked at all four of them.
"You're all eight?"
Mason nodded.
"Yes."
Terrence looked down.
I could almost see him doing the arithmetic again.
He knew the dates.
He knew when our marriage had ended.
He knew when I had told him I was pregnant.
There was no escaping the connection.
His fiancée finally spoke again.
"Can we talk somewhere?"
Terrence didn't move.
She looked at the children.
Then at me.
"Privately."
I understood.
This wasn't a conversation that could be settled in front of everyone.
I looked at Terrence.
"That's probably a good idea."
He nodded slowly.
But before he could walk away, Lorraine spoke.
"Wait."
Everyone turned toward her.
She was looking at me.
"Keahu, I need to ask you something."
I waited.
"Why didn't we know?"
I looked at her for a long moment.
Then I answered honestly.
"Because after Terrence left, I had no way to reach him."
Lorraine's expression changed.
I continued.
"I wasn't going to spend my life chasing someone who had already made it clear he didn't want to be part of ours."
She looked toward her son.
Terrence said nothing.
I looked at the children.
They were sitting together now.
Four little faces.
Four lives that had continued without the man who had once refused to believe they existed.
And I realized something.
The most difficult part of that morning wasn't telling Terrence he had children.
It was watching him understand that they had already grown up without him.
Click here to continue reading: PART 7: His Mother Asked Why I Had Stayed Away, and My Answer Forced Everyone to Remember How Our Marriage Really Ended
Eight Years After He Abandoned Me, My Ex-Husband Sent an Invitation That Revealed Exactly What He Still Thought of Me
Part 6 of 20
