“You’re always running,” Margaret said, linking her arm through his. “You don’t even notice the seasons anymore.”

He nodded. Smiled politely. Checked his watch.

Then he saw her.

Nora Blake. Asleep on a bench. Three infants bundled beside her.

Adrian stopped cold.

“Adrian?” Margaret asked. “What’s wrong?”

He couldn’t answer. His throat closed.

Nora looked thinner. Exhausted. Her coat was too thin for October. One baby whimpered softly, and she didn’t even stir.

Margaret followed his stare. Her hand flew to her mouth.

“Oh my God,” she whispered.

Adrian’s mind raced. Five years. It had been five years since he’d ended things with Nora. Since she’d begged him to choose her. Since he’d told her his life was “too complicated.”

Since she’d disappeared.

Now she was here. With three babies.

The timing clicked into place like a punch to the chest.

“This can’t be real,” he muttered.

But it was. The worn diaper bag. The empty bottle. The way Nora’s arms curled protectively around those tiny bodies even in sleep.

One baby had dark hair. Just like his.

Margaret moved first, steps careful as she approached the bench. She crouched beside Nora.

“Nora,” she said softly. “Honey, wake up.”

Nora jolted awake, eyes wild with panic. She grabbed the babies closer.

Then she saw Margaret. Her face went pale.

“Mrs. Hayes…”

Her gaze lifted. Landed on Adrian.

“What are you doing here?” Nora’s voice shook.

Margaret’s eyes filled with tears. “Why are you out here like this?”

“You need to leave,” Nora said. “Both of you.”

Adrian found his voice. “Nora—”

“No.” She stood, unsteady, clutching one baby to her chest. “You don’t get to do this.”

“Do what?”

“Show up now. Act concerned. You made your choice five years ago.”

Adrian stepped closer. “Are they mine?”

Nora’s jaw tightened. “Does it matter?”

“Yes.”

She laughed bitterly. “Now it matters. Funny.”

Margaret touched Nora’s arm. “Please. Just tell us.”

Nora pulled away. “I tried to tell him. I called. I texted. I went to his office.”

Adrian’s stomach dropped.

“Your assistant said you were in meetings,” Nora continued, voice breaking. “Your mother told me to stop being dramatic. And you—” She looked directly at him. “You told me I was trying to trap you.”

The memory hit him like ice water. He’d said that. In his office. Cold. Certain.

“You said you’d ruin me if I kept pushing,” Nora whispered. “So I left.”

Margaret turned to Adrian, horror in her eyes. “You didn’t.”