Chapter 2 - THREE LITTLE VOICES
The terminal was crowded, loud, and full of people who seemed to be in a hurry to get somewhere more important.
I moved through the arrivals hall with my tote over one shoulder and my phone in my hand.
Declan walked several feet behind me.
I could feel his attention like a hand between my shoulder blades.
Outside, a black SUV waited near the curb. The rear passenger door opened before I reached it.
Three little girls jumped out.
“Mommy!”
I dropped my bag and crouched just in time.
Maya reached me first, wrapping both arms around my neck. Lucy collided with my shoulder a second later, and Ella hugged my waist so tightly that I nearly toppled backward.
“My babies,” I whispered, kissing their cheeks. “I missed you.”
“We missed you more,” Maya announced.
“That's not possible,” Lucy said.
“It is because I counted,” Ella explained.
I laughed and hugged all three.
Behind them, our driver, Mr. James, collected my bag. He had worked for me for two years and had become an honorary grandfather to the girls.
“Welcome home, Ms. Monroe,” he said.
“Thank you, James.”
Then the air changed.
I looked up.
Declan stood beside the curb, completely motionless.
His eyes moved from one girl to the next.
Maya had his dark eyes. Lucy had his exact dimple. Ella's serious expression was so much like his that my chest tightened.
He took one step forward.
“Cassidy.”
I stood, keeping the girls close.
“Declan.”
He looked at them again.
“How old are they?”
“Four.”
His lips parted.
“All three?”
“Yes.”
“When were they born?”
“October.”
He glanced at his watch, then at me. I could almost see the calculation happening behind his eyes.
Our divorce had been finalized in November, five years earlier. The last time we had been together was in January, during the brief reconciliation he had insisted was private. The girls had been conceived that night.
Declan's face lost its color.
“Cassidy,” he said slowly. “Are they—”
“Don't ask questions you already know the answer to.”
Maya looked up at me.
“Mommy, who is that?”
I brushed a curl away from her forehead.
“Someone I used to know.”
Declan flinched.
Lucy studied him.
“You have the same eyes as Maya.”
“Lucy,” I murmured.
“What?” she asked. “He does.”
Declan lowered himself slightly, trying to meet their gaze.
“Hello.”
Maya hid behind my leg.
Ella didn't.
“Are you a friend of Mommy's?”
Declan looked at me.
“I used to be.”
Ella considered that.
“Then why don't you visit?”
I felt the question land between us.
Declan straightened.
“That's a fair question.”
I opened the SUV door.
“We need to go.”
“Cassidy, please.”
“No.”
“I need to talk to you.”
“You had five years.”
“I didn't know.”
“You didn't ask.”
His expression tightened.
“Please don't punish them for what happened between us.”
I stared at him.
“Don't you dare make this about punishment. I raised them. I protected them. I built a life for them. You don't get to turn up at an airport and act as if the only thing missing from their childhood was your name.”
He looked down.
“I want to know my daughters.”
The word daughters nearly broke my composure.
“Then you should have started by being a man they could safely know.”
I helped the girls into their seats and closed the door.
As James pulled away, I looked through the window.
May you like
Declan was still standing at the curb.
For the first time since our divorce, he looked like a man who had lost something he couldn't buy back.
