“The thing where you pretend you’re asking an innocent question.”
I sighed. “Fine.”
She laughed. “What do you want to know?”
I hesitated, then asked, “What’s Miles’s last name?”
Maddy blinked and told me. The room seemed to tilt slightly, because it was a name I hadn’t expected to hear again.
I spent the rest of the afternoon telling myself I was being ridiculous. People shared names. Families overlapped.
Coincidences happened.
Then, just as Maddy was getting ready to leave, I asked one more question. “What’s Miles’s father’s name?”
Maddy looked surprised. “Jack.”
I closed my eyes. Of course it was.
When I opened them again, Maddy was watching me carefully.
“What is going on?”
I considered lying.
Instead, I sat down. And for the first time in years, I told my daughter about Jack. Not everything. Just enough. How we’d met. How we’d planned a future together. How he disappeared from a café 20 years earlier and never came back.
By the time I finished, Maddy looked stunned. “Wait.” She pointed toward the door. “Miles’s dad?”
I nodded. “The same Jack.”
“You’re serious?”
“Unfortunately.”
For several seconds, neither of us spoke. Then Maddy did something I hadn’t expected. She laughed. Not because it was funny, but because it was absurd.
“Mom.”
“I know.”
“No, seriously.”
“I know.”
“My boyfriend’s father is your first love?”
I rubbed my forehead. “Apparently.”
The situation was ridiculous. And somehow it became even more ridiculous over the following months, because Miles wasn’t going anywhere. The relationship grew serious. Family dinners became normal, birthdays became normal, and Sunday visits became normal.
And every time I saw him, I caught another glimpse of the young man I’d once loved. Not enough to hurt. Just enough to remind me.
The strangest part was that Miles had no idea.
