Three Little Words

The sharp cry of a baby jolted Reeva Clarke awake, her heart racing as she instinctively threw off the covers. The house was quiet except for the rhythmic hum of the heater, but her mind remained hyper-alert, already tuned to the needs of her children. She glanced at the baby monitor on her nightstand, the glowing screen confirming what her ears had registered—Noah, her youngest, was awake and not happy about it.

She reached the nursery in seconds, her socked feet gliding across the hardwood floor. The room was bathed in the soft glow of a moon-shaped nightlight, casting shadows on the pale blue walls. Reeva scooped Noah up from his crib, cradling his tiny body against her chest. His cries softened immediately, replaced by sleepy whimpers.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" she murmured, bouncing him gently. "Bad dream?"

The answer was an indignant sniffle, followed by the telltale wrinkling of his little nose. Reeva chuckled softly. "Or maybe just hungry." She grabbed a prepped bottle from the mini-fridge tucked into the corner of the nursery, silently thanking past-Reeva for her foresight.

As she fed Noah, her gaze wandered to the framed photos on the wall. Three identical faces, each beaming with infectious joy, stared back at her. Noah, Caleb, and Liam—her miracle triplets. They were her greatest achievement, her greatest joy, and often her greatest challenge.

Tonight, though, her thoughts drifted to someone else entirely: Julian Kole.

It had been four years since their paths had crossed, a fleeting encounter that had left her with more than just memories. Julian had been charming, magnetic even. The kind of man who could make a woman forget the world with a single smile. But that night had been all they'd had. No calls, no texts, no explanations. And then, months later, she'd discovered she was pregnant—not with one baby, but three.

She'd made the choice to keep them, to raise them on her own. Julian had no place in their lives, and she had every intention of keeping it that way. But fate, it seemed, had other plans.

Julian Kole stood outside Reeva's modest house, his heart pounding in a way he wasn't accustomed to. He wasn't a man prone to nerves. In the boardroom, on the golf course, or even at the occasional high-stakes poker table, Julian was unflappable. But tonight, as he prepared to knock on the door of a woman he hadn't seen in 2 years, he felt distinctly out of his depth.

He'd found out by accident. A mutual acquaintance had mentioned Reeva in passing, her name sparking a memory that had lingered like smoke. Julian hadn't thought much of it until the same acquaintance had let slip about the kids. Three of them.

His kids.

The idea had hit him like a freight train. Julian had never considered himself father material—he was too busy, too selfish, too everything his own father had been. But the thought of three little boys out there in the world, his blood running through their veins, had ignited something primal in him. He had to see them. He had to know.

And now he was here, standing on the porch, the words he'd rehearsed over and over evaporating like mist. He raised his hand to knock, then hesitated. What if she slammed the door in his face? What if she refused to let him meet them? What if…

Before he could second-guess himself again, the door swung open. Reeva stood there, her hair tousled, her expression shifting from confusion to shock to anger in the span of a heartbeat.

"Julian?" Her voice was sharp, her grip tightening on the doorframe.

He swallowed hard, meeting her gaze: "Hi, Love."

"Hi, Love." Hearing him call her that made her feel so emotional.

Julian Kole. The name, like a phantom limb, sent a jolt of pain through her. Julian Kole, the man standing before her, the man who had shattered her heart two years ago, was undeniably back. Reeva blinked, disoriented, as if emerging from a dream. He was as breathtaking as she remembered, a masterpiece of male physique. Tall and athletic, a towering 1.90 meters of honed muscle encased in a sleek black suit, he exuded an aura of effortless power. His jet-black hair, styled to perfection, didn't have a single strand out of place.

Reeva felt a flutter in her stomach, a traitorous response to the familiar sight of him. Her pulse quickened, a frantic drumbeat against her ribs. His gaze, those piercing green eyes, the same captivating shade as her sons' eyes, held hers captive. The memories came flooding back, a tidal wave of bittersweet emotions threatening to drown her. The joy of their night together, the crushing pain of his betrayal, the lingering ache of loss.

Thinking of her sons, their innocent faces, their dependence on her, brought her back to reality. Julian Kole was back in her life, and with him, a torrent of unresolved feelings, a Pandora's Box of emotions she had painstakingly tried to seal shut. She took a deep breath, trying to steady the tremor in her hands, to quell the storm raging within her. This was not the time to crumble, to let the past consume her. She had three little boys depending on her, three innocent souls who needed their mother to be strong.

For a long, agonizing moment, they simply stared at each other, the air thick with unspoken words, unanswered questions, and the ghosts of their past. The silence stretched on, heavy and suffocating, until finally, Julian, his voice rough with emotion, uttered the only words that seemed to escape his lips, "We need to talk."

Reeva's grip on the doorframe tightened as Julian's words hung in the cool night air. A flood of emotions churned within her—anger, disbelief, and something else she didn't want to name. She'd imagined this moment a hundred times over the years, but nothing could have prepared her for the reality of Julian Kole standing on her doorstep.

"You have some nerve showing up here," she said, her voice low and steady despite the storm raging inside her. "What do you want, Julian?"

Julian's jaw tightened, his usually confident demeanor faltering. "I know about the boys, Reeva. I know they're mine."

The air between them crackled with tension. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a deafening rhythm she feared he might hear. She began to speak, but the words caught in her throat. Instead, she stepped inside, inviting him with a gesture. This was a conversation too intimate, too charged, for their neighbors to witness.

They sat down in the living room, the air thick with unspoken words. Dust motes danced in the single shaft of afternoon sunlight piercing through the grimy windowpane. Reeva offered Julian a coffee, but he sullenly declined, his jaw clenched. She needed to buy some time before broaching this difficult subject. The weight of his gaze, heavy and expectant, pressed down on her. So she ducked into her kitchen, the small, American-style space a welcome refuge.

The kitchen, though compact, was surprisingly efficient. White subway tiles, slightly chipped around the edges, lined the walls. A vintage stove, its chrome gleaming despite years of use, hummed softly. The aroma of freshly ground coffee, a comforting counterpoint to the tension in the living room, filled the air. As she busied herself, the rhythmic clinking of mugs and spoons a soothing counterpoint to the silence, she felt Julian's gaze, charged with palpable tension, burning the back of her neck.

Finally, the coffee was ready. With a deep breath, she returned to the living room, the small kitchen a receding island of calm. She sat down opposite Julian, the worn floral armchair sinking beneath her weight. Plucking up her courage, she cleared her throat and said, "You've found it, so what? You think you can just waltz back into my life and play daddy?"

Julian flinched, the uncharacteristic vulnerability in his eyes catching her off guard. "I'm not here to disrupt your life, Reeva. I need to be a part of theirs. They deserve to know who I am."

"Who you are?" she repeated, her voice rising. "You're a stranger, Julian. You wasn't there for two years. They don't know you. What do you think you can offer them now. You weren't there when I needed you the most."

Julian's face tightened, a flash of guilt crossing his features. "I know, and I'm sorry. But I'm here now, and I want to make things right."

Reeva stood up, her emotions boiling over. "You think it's that simple? You think you can just show up and everything will be fine? You have no idea what it's been like, raising three boys on my own."

Julian stood as well, his voice rising. "I know I messed up, Reeva. But I'm trying to fix it."

" You missed everything" Reeva's voice was sharp, her anger palpable.

Julian's eyes flashed with frustration. "And whose fault is that? You never told me, Reeva. You never gave me a chance."

Reeva's breath caught, the truth of his words hitting her hard. She had made the decision to keep him out of their lives, to protect her boys from the pain of his absence. But now, faced with his determination to be a part of their lives, she couldn't deny the complexity of the situation.

"I did what I thought was best," she said, her voice trembling. "I didn't want them to get hurt."

Julian's expression softened, his anger giving way to a deep sadness. "I understand that. But they're my sons too, Reeva. I deserve a chance to know them, to be a part of their lives."

Reeva looked away, tears stinging her eyes. She wanted to protect her boys, but she also knew that keeping Julian away wasn't the answer. They deserved to know their father, and Julian deserved a chance to prove himself.

Julian ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in his every movement. "I am a powerful man. They deserve to benefit from my name and my position in Seattle. I want to try, for them and for you".

Reeva blinked, the last two words hitting her like a punch to the gut. For you. She shook her head, forcing herself to stay focused. "This isn't about me, Julian. It's about them. And you have no idea what it takes to be a parent."

"Then teach me," he said, his voice steady now, his gaze unwavering. "Give me a chance, Reeva. I'm not asking for forgiveness. Just a chance to do right by them."

Her breath hitched, the sincerity in his voice catching her off guard.

"We'll see," she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. "But this isn't a promise, Julian. You have a lot to prove."

"I understand," he said, relief flickering in his eyes. "Thank you".

Reeva, her voice trembling slightly, explained that she needed time to process everything. "This is a lot to take in," she said, her gaze fixed on the floor. "I need to think about what this means for me, for the children..."

Julian, his features etched with a mixture of frustration and concern, sighed. "I understand," he said, his voice softer than before. "But this isn't something we can put on hold indefinitely, Reeva."

She nodded, her eyes finally meeting his. "I know. I just... I need some time."

He studied her face, searching for any sign of hesitation, any indication that she might be pulling away. Finally, he conceded. "Alright," he said, "but please don't take too long."

Reeva smiled, a small, strained smile. "I won't."

He stood up, towering over her. " Here's my card, my number's on it, you can contact me when you're ready."

She walked him to the door, the silence between them heavy with unspoken emotions. At the threshold, he turned back to her. "Good night, Love," he said, his voice husky with emotion.

Reeva's heart skipped a beat. "Good night, Julian."

He lingered for a moment, his eyes searching hers, then finally turned and left. Reeva watched him go, the sound of his footsteps fading down the street. She leaned against the doorframe, her hand pressed against her chest, feeling a strange mix of relief and dread.

She turned and went back inside, her mind swirling with questions she didn't have the answers to. As she leaned against the closed door, she couldn't help but wonder if she was making the biggest mistake of her life—or giving her sons the chance they deserved.