Morning light streams through the floor-to-ceiling windows, painting everything in shades of gold and warmth.
The penthouse is alive with the chaos I’ve come to love.
The sound of little feet padding across the hardwood floors.
The unmistakable thump of a toy being dropped.
The high-pitched giggle that could only belong to Lily.
I’m standing in the kitchen, my hands wrapped around a mug of coffee I haven’t touched, staring at nothing.
My reflection stares back at me from the polished surface of the refrigerator.
I look tired.
I look scared.
I look like a woman standing on the edge of something she can’t control.
“You’re going to burn a hole in that mug if you keep staring at it.”
I blink.
Emily is leaning against the kitchen island, her arms crossed, her expression knowing.
She showed up an hour ago, claiming she wanted to help with the twins.
I know the truth.
She’s here to make sure I don’t fall apart.
“I’m fine,” I say.
“You’re a terrible liar.”
I set the mug down.
“I know.”
The sound of footsteps thunders down the hallway.
Lucas bursts into the kitchen first, his backpack already slung over one shoulder, his dark hair sticking up in every direction.
He has his father’s eyes.
The same deep, intense darkness that used to make my heart race and my stomach drop.
But on Lucas, those eyes are full of light.
Full of curiosity.
Full of everything Elijah never was.
“Mommy!
Emily!
I’m ready for school!”
I manage a smile.
“Did you brush your teeth?”
“Yes.”
“Did you eat breakfast?”
“Emily made me pancakes.”
I glance at Emily.
She shrugs.
“He was hungry.”
“Thank you.”
Lily appears behind her brother, moving with the deliberate grace of a seven-year-old who knows exactly how adorable she is.
Her hair is a mess of tangles, her pajama top is on backward, and she’s wearing one pink sock and one purple sock.
She looks like a hurricane wrapped in a blanket.
“I want pancakes too,” she announces.
“You’re going to be late for school.”
“I don’t care.
Pancakes are more important.”
I can’t help it.
I laugh.
The sound feels foreign, like it belongs to someone else.
Someone who isn’t terrified of what tonight might bring.
“Fine.
Sit down.
I’ll make you pancakes.”
The kitchen descends into chaos.
Pancake batter splatters across the counter.
Lily insists on helping, which means more batter ends up on her than in the bowl.
Lucas reads the back of the cereal box out loud, his voice monotone and serious.
Emily tries to make coffee but can’t find the filter.
And I watch them.
All of them.
My little family.
The world I built from nothing.
I think about tonight.
The fashion show.
The moment I’ve been working toward for seven years.
The moment that might change everything.
And I think about him.
Elijah.
The man who bought a building across from my venue.
The man who doesn’t know about the children sitting at my kitchen table.
The man who would burn the world down if he found out.
I push the thought away.
I can’t afford to think about him.
Not now.
Not when my children are looking at me with those trusting eyes.
“Mommy?”
I look up.
Lucas is watching me, his head tilted, his brow furrowed in the way it does when he’s trying to solve a puzzle.
“Why are you nervous?”
I freeze.
I didn’t realize I was fidgeting.
I stop playing with my hair and force my hands to still.
“I’m not nervous,” I say.
“I’m excited.”
Lily snorts.
“You’re lying.
You always play with your hair when you lie.”
This child.
This impossibly perceptive child who sees through every single one of my walls.
“Excited is a kind of nervous,” I try.
“Nope.” She shakes her head, her tangled hair flying everywhere.
“Excited is when you jump up and down.
Nervous is when you pull your hair.
You’re pulling your hair.”
I sigh.
There’s no point arguing with her.
She’s too smart for her own good.
She gets it from me.
“Okay,” I admit.
“Maybe I’m a little nervous.”
Lucas sets down the cereal box.
“Why?”
I hesitate.
How do I explain this to them?
How do I tell my children that their father might be in the audience tonight?
That the man who abandoned us might be watching their mother’s greatest triumph?
“Mommy has to do something hard tonight,” I say carefully.
“Something that might be scary.”
Lily’s eyes widen.
“Are you going to fight a monster?”
I laugh.
A real laugh this time.
“Something like that.”
Lucas stands up and walks over to me.
He’s so serious for a seven-year-old.
So intense.
So much like his father in the worst ways and the best.
“You’re the strongest person I know,” he says.
My eyes burn.
I blink rapidly, refusing to let the tears fall.
“Thank you, baby.”
He wraps his arms around me.
His small body presses against mine, warm and solid and so impossibly precious.
I bury my face in his hair and breathe him in.
Lily joins us.
She wraps her arms around both of us, squeezing so tightly I can barely breathe.
“You’re going to be okay,” she says.
“You’re always okay.”
I hold them both.
I hold them so tightly I’m afraid I might break them.
But I can’t let go.
I can’t.
“I love you,” I whisper.
“More than anything.
More than everything.”
“We know,” Lucas says.
“You tell us every day.”
I laugh through my tears.
“I’ll tell you every day for the rest of your lives.”
The bus arrives.
The twins gather their backpacks and head for the door.
They wave at me through the window.
Lily blows a kiss.
Lucas gives me a thumbs up.
And then they’re gone.
The door closes.
The silence rushes in to fill the space they left behind.
Emily is still in the kitchen.
She hasn’t moved.
She’s just watching me with that knowing look.
“You’re going to be okay,” she says.
“I know.”
“Do you?”
I meet her eyes.
“No.
But I will be.”
She nods.
“That’s the answer I was hoping for.”
I turn back to the window.
The bus is pulling away.
My children are disappearing into the morning.
I think about tonight.
The lights.
The cameras.
The crowd.
And him.
Elijah Martinez is going to be in that audience.
He’s going to see me.
He’s going to see the woman he threw away.
And I have no idea what I’m going to do when I see him.
The morning stretches on.
I go through the motions.
Shower.
Dress.
Makeup.
Perfect.
Untouchable.
But I can still feel the fear.
The old, familiar fear that has lived in my chest for seven years.
The fear that he’ll find me.
That he’ll find them.
That he’ll take everything I’ve built.
I push it away.
I have to.
The car is waiting downstairs.
The venue is waiting.
The audience is waiting.
Everything is waiting for me.
I take a breath.
I square my shoulders.
I walk out the door.
“Mommy!”
I stop.
I turn around.
Lucas and Lily are standing in the hallway.
They’re supposed to be at school.
They’re supposed to be learning and playing and being normal children.
“Mommy,” Lucas says again.
“We forgot something.”
I kneel down.
“What did you forget?”
Lily steps forward.
She presses something into my hand.
A small piece of paper, folded into a careful square.
“It’s a good luck note,” she says.
“We made it at school.
We were going to give it to you tonight.
But we wanted you to have it now.”
I unfold the paper.
Inside are two drawings.
One of a stick figure with long hair and a crown.
The other of a stick figure with short hair and a cape.
“One of them is you,” Lucas says.
“We didn’t know which one you’d like better.
So we made both.”
I can’t speak.
The words are stuck in my throat.
“We love you, Mommy,” Lily says.
“We know you’re going to be amazing.”
I pull them both into my arms.
I hold them so tightly my arms shake.
“I love you,” I whisper.
“I love you so much.”
“We know,” Lucas says.
“You tell us every day.”
I laugh.
I cry.
I do both at the same time.
“Go back to school,” I say.
“Be good.
I’ll see you tonight.”
They run back down the hall.
Their laughter echoes behind them.
I look at the drawings in my hand.
The stick figure with the crown.
The stick figure with the cape.
They believe in me.
They believe I’m strong enough to face anything.
Maybe I am.
Maybe I’ve always been.
The car ride to the venue is a blur.
I don’t remember the traffic.
I don’t remember the streets.
I only remember the feel of that paper in my hand.
The weight of their love in my heart.
Tonight, I’m going to face him.
Tonight, I’m going to show him exactly what he lost.
And when it’s over, I’m going to come home to my children.
The children who believe I’m strong enough to fight monsters.
I think about the woman I used to be.
The invisible wife.
The unwanted woman.
The broken thing.
She’s gone.
She died somewhere in the years between then and now.
And tonight, I’m going to show the world exactly who I’ve become.
The venue looms ahead.
The lights are already on.
The crowd is already gathering.
My hands are shaking.
But my heart is steady.
I’m ready.
I’m ready for everything.
I’m ready for him.