Alejandro’s head snapped toward the sound. There she was. Isabella. Six years had passed, but he would have recognized her voice anywhere. Her hair was tied back carelessly, her clothes simple—nothing like the elegant dresses she used to wear beside him at corporate galas. But it wasn’t her appearance that made his heart slam against his ribs.
It was the three boys around her.
Triplets. Identical. And unmistakably his.
The same striking green eyes. The same sharp jaw. Even the stubborn cowlick he used to fight every morning. The world around him blurred.
One of the boys—the one in a rocket T-shirt—noticed him staring.
“Mom, that guy’s looking at us funny.”
Isabella looked up. Their eyes locked. Surprise flickered across her face, then fear. She instinctively drew the boys closer.
Alejandro stepped forward, breath shallow. “Isabella…” His voice cracked. “Those kids…”
She said nothing, her eyes blazing.
“They’re mine,” he whispered—not a question, but a realization crashing down on him.
After a tense pause, she scribbled something on a receipt and pressed it into his chest.
“Tomorrow. Noon. Harbor Café. Don’t follow us.”