“How old are they today,” Oliver asked at last, his voice rough.
Marlene drew in a breath. “They turned five, sir.”
The words landed like a stone. Five years. Five birthdays. He had missed every one of them. He had been present only as a photograph and a financial provider, a name on legal documents and school forms. He set the leather folder of contracts on the grass and slowly crouched to the boys’ level, uncertain if he had earned the right to be there.
“May I stay,” he asked quietly.
Marlene nodded, relief softening her expression. “It is their birthday. They deserve their father.”
Aaron took a cautious step forward. “Are you really Dad,” he asked in a small voice.
Something inside Oliver cracked open. “Yes,” he said. “I am. And I am sorry that I was not here.”
Lucas sniffed and glanced at Marlene. “Miss Marlene said you work very far away,” he said.
Oliver met her eyes and understood that she had protected his image, painting him as a distant hero instead of an absent parent. Gratitude mixed with shame in his chest.
Ethan suddenly declared, “Then you have to sing too. Loud. Wishes only work if everyone sings.”
Noah nodded seriously in agreement, frosting still on his lips.