"When were you going to tell me I'm a grandmother?" Christopher looked up from his newspaper. He looked at his mother with irritation. "Hi, Mom, I'm fine. Thanks for asking.
His mother, a formidable woman with a steely gaze, ignored his attempt to deflect. "Don't mess with me, Christopher," she said firmly. "Answer my question."
"Mom, I didn't know Jeremy had a child," he stammered, grabbing his coffee. "I'm going to call him to congratulate him."
"I am not speaking of your brother," interrupted his mother, in a shrill voice. "I'm talking about you."
Christopher choked on his coffee, spitting and coughing. "What are you talking about, mom?" he asked, wiping his mouth with a towel.
Her mother put a small photo out of her purse. "Don't you know?" she asked, her voice dripping with a mixture of amusement and disbelief.
He shook his head, completely confused.
His mother opened the album, revealing two identical children who were watching him. Two cherubim faces, with eyes of the same shade of emerald green as him.
"Who... Who are they? Christopher stammered, his voice trembling.
The amusement in his mother's eyes disappeared, replaced by a look of stern disapproval. "The children of a certain Amanda Clarke," she said, her voice high-pitched.
Christopher felt a jolt, a sudden, chilling realization. Amanda Clarke. This name resonated in the recesses of his memory, a ghost of a past that he thought he had buried deep inside him.
His mother's next words struck him like a physical blow. "You have to marry her," she said, her voice leaving no room for discussion.
"What?" exclaimed Christopher, his voice rising. "Marry her? Where did you find this photo?"
Her mother sighed, a weary sound. "Do you know Cora, my friend? The one who runs this foundation for the unemployed?
Christopher nodded vaguely.
"Well, to handle all the appointments and interviews, she hired a virtual assistant. And that's Amanda. Apparently, during a video conference, the baby started crying, and the young woman apologized and went to pick him up. It was then that Cora noticed the resemblance with you. She asked a few questions, and Amanda mentioned that she had twins and that their father was not involved.
A wave of nausea washed over Christopher. "And then?" he asked, his voice barely whisper.
"Then," said his mother, her voice hardening, "I hired a private detective."
Christopher felt a cold fear creep into his bones. He had underestimated his mother. He had always underestimated her.
Christopher took a deep breath, the weight of the situation weighing heavily on his shoulders. He could not ignore it. He could not pretend that it did not exist. They were his children, and he had a responsibility to them, whether he wanted to or not.
"I'll take care of it, Mom," he said, his voice firm, though a tremor ran through him. "I'll manage."
His mother studied him attentively, looking for a glimmer of doubt, a hint of weakness. But Christopher met her gaze, his expression resolute. He wouldn't let her down. He would not let his children down. He would face it, whatever the cost.
Christopher leaned against the balcony railing, a glass of whiskey in his hand, staring at the city lights. The night was quiet, but his thoughts were anything but calm. Amanda's face haunted him, her laughter, her smile, the way her eyes sparkled when she talked about things that were important to her. He took a long sip of whiskey, hoping to drown out the memories, but they returned with implacable force.
Two years had passed since that night, but guilt hung over him like a heavy chain. Christopher had never been one to have relationships. His life was a whirlwind of business meetings, flights, and fleeting connections, and he loved it that way. It was easier to keep people at a distance than to let them see the man behind the polite exterior. But Amanda had been different.
The first time he'd seen her in this bar, he'd felt an inexplicable attraction, a gravity that made it impossible to look away. Christopher had been intrigued, then captivated by her, and before he knew it, he was showing up, drawn to her like a moth by a flame.
The memory of their discussions resurfaced, vivid and bittersweet. He had felt something that night, something real, something he hadn't allowed himself to feel in years. It scared him. When they met in his room, he had convinced himself that it was just another fleeting encounter, but deep down, he knew that was not the case.
The next morning, he panicked. Christopher Kole did not make any attachments. His life was not built for them. He had told himself that he was doing Amanda a favor by rejected her. But the look in his eyes when he had told him that he was not looking for anything serious, he still haunted him.
Christopher put the glass down and rubbed his face with one hand. He didn't expect to see her again, let alone find out he had children. This revelation had taken his mind away. He had spent years convincing himself that his choices did not leave scars, that the walls he had built around him protected him. But now, those walls looked like a prison, and the weight of his past decisions weighed on him like never before.
He didn't know how to be a father. He didn't even know if Amanda would let him try. She had every reason to keep him at a distance. But he couldn't leave, not this time. He had to make things right, not only for his boys, but for himself.
He had made mistakes, but he was not the same man he was two years ago. He was ready to fight for a place in their lives, even if it meant facing Amanda's anger, her pain, her mistrust.
The lights of the city dimmed as he looked into the night, his mind racing with thoughts about the future. For the first time in years, Christopher Kole wanted something he couldn't buy, charm or negotiate. He wanted to be a father. And maybe, just maybe, he wanted to win Amanda's forgiveness.