The billionaire was taking his fiancée home — until he saw his ex-wife crossing the pedestrian crosswalk with twins.

When Daniel Harrington saw Eleanor Price again, he was not prepared for the way the moment would fracture his sense of time. It did not announce itself with drama. There was no sharp intake of breath, no cinematic pause in which the world politely waited for him to understand what was happening. It arrived quietly, almost indifferently, as if the past had chosen a moment when he was distracted enough to slip back into his life without resistance.

She stood near Regent’s Canal, one hand resting on the handle of a double stroller, the other adjusting a blanket that had slipped just enough to expose a small sleeping face. Daniel noticed the gesture before he noticed her face. It was precise, practiced, and unconscious, the movement of someone who had learned to anticipate imbalance before it occurred. By the time recognition reached him, it was already too late to pretend this was coincidence.

He pulled the car over without quite remembering deciding to do so.

Eleanor looked up only when he was standing in front of her, his name already forming on his tongue. Surprise crossed her face, brief and controlled, before settling into something calmer, more guarded.