Matthew gave a brief laugh and tried to deflect the comment, but before he could, they rounded a bend in the path, and the world shifted. On a wooden bench beneath a wide maple, a woman slept curled slightly to one side, her posture protective, her face drawn with exhaustion. Beside her stood a stroller built for three, and inside it, three infants slept with the untroubled surrender of babies who trusted nothing more than the rhythm of breath. Matthew stopped so abruptly that his mother nearly stumbled. Recognition hit him without mercy. The woman was Paige.
Time did not freeze, but it slowed enough to make every detail unbearable. The distant laughter of children blurred into noise, and the breeze through the leaves felt unreal. Paige had left for Europe after their divorce, determined to build something meaningful on her own terms. Seeing her here, thinner, worn, asleep on a public bench beside three babies, shattered the story he had clung to in order to move on.
