Now that Ella had left for the day, one thought echoed off the walls of my apartment. I paced around my living room, the skyline glittering outside, my stomach twisted with nerves.
I have to tell Leo and Gina everything.
They deserved to know about the twins—and about Ella, the woman I’d chosen. It was like I told her. No more hiding. Even if I knew this could blow up in my face.
Ella left an hour ago, pressing a quick kiss to my cheek, voicing her support. “You handle your kids,” she’d said softly, a flicker of worry in her eyes. “I’ll handle ours.”
I couldn’t blame her. The potential fallout with Leo had weighed on us since she confessed he was the asshole ex who’d hurt her. I refused to drag her into a confrontation that might explode.
So it fell to me. I’d invited Leo and Gina for a last-minute brunch, off our usual schedule. Predictably, they asked if I was okay. I will be, I told myself grimly, setting out pastries and fresh fruit on the dining table. Now it was set for a conversation that might tear my family apart.
Gina and Leo arrived in a brisk swirl of tension. Gina wore a casual sweater, hair in a messy bun, to-go box of coffee in hand. Leo looked oddly at ease—like he’d woken up on the right side of the bed for once.
Guess I’ll ruin that today. Father of the year, folks.
“What’s going on, Dad?” Gina asked, scanning my face as she stepped in.
“Yeah, you okay?” Leo added, more neutral than usual. “You never do random brunch calls. Everything is schedules with you.”
“I’m fine,” I lied, motioning for them to follow me. “But I…have something I need to talk to you two about.” My attempt at casualness fell flat, and I saw them both stiffen with apprehension. “Grab some brunch and we’ll sit and talk.”
We ended up in the dining area, pastries untouched. Gina eyed me warily. Leo stood with arms crossed, brow creased. I forced a steady breath. Just do it.
“You’re making us nervous, Dad,” Gina said. “Just spit it out.”
“Like a Band-Aid,” Leonardo added.
“If you’re eating Band-Aids, you’re doing something wrong.”
“Dad!” Gina playfully barked and giggled. “Just tell us.”
“There’s no easy way to say this. Before I say it, I want you to know that none of this was planned—”
“You did something unplanned?” Leonardo cut in, one brow raised. “Since when?”
“Since last summer…” I raked my fingers through my hair. “I met a woman then, and…” How do I say this while minimizing the mental scarring? “We had a fling.”
They exchanged a glance. Gina said, “Well, that’s great, but I’m not sure why you’re telling us now.”
“Unless it’s gotten serious.” Leonardo’s eyes went flat as he folded his arms over his chest.
“It has,” I said delicately.
Gina beamed and her voice shot high. “You’re seeing someone?”
“I am—”
She smacked Leonardo’s shoulder, but his icy gaze didn’t change. She asked him, “What’s the matter with you? We’ve been saying he needs to start dating.”
He chucked his chin up at me. “There’s more. There’s always more, isn’t there, Dad?”
“There is. The summer fling…she got pregnant.”
“What?” Gina whispered in a gasp.
“I have twins,” I said bluntly, voice pitched low. “Infant daughters, almost three months old.”
For a moment, silence reigned. Gina’s jaw dropped. Leo’s eyes went wide before his expression hardened. “You got some random summer fling pregnant?”
“I met her on vacation, and things…you know how it goes. I didn’t know until recently that she was pregnant.”
Gina set her coffee down, shock etched on her face. “Dad, this is…insane. You never said anything—”
“Because I only found out about them a few months ago,” I insisted quietly. “And I needed to be sure of everything before talking to you two.”
Leonardo’s eyes flashed. “So you’re a father again, out of nowhere?”
My stomach knotted. “Yes. And there’s more. The mother—her name is Ella.”
“And?” he prompted.
I braced myself, focusing on him. “She’s…your ex. The one who—who left because you body shamed her. Mariella Green.”
His face went pale, then dark with fury. “The same Ella I told you about?”
“Yes.”
Gina’s hand flew to her mouth. “Oh my God.”
A thick silence fell. Leonardo stared at me, betrayal stamped on every line of his face. It felt like an eternity before he spoke. His voice went raw. “You’re telling me you fathered kids with my ex?”
“It wasn’t intentional. We didn’t know who the other one was before we hooked up. But I love her now. And the twins—they’re everything.” I forced a calm note. “I want you both to be part of their lives, if you can handle it.”
Gina’s gaze darted between us, horrified. “Leo…”
He let out a ragged exhale. “I can’t…I can’t believe this.” Without warning, he stood up fast enough that his chair fell behind him. He stormed out, the apartment door slamming.
“Dad?” Gina whispered, eyes wide, as if uncertain whether to chase him.
I felt numb, grief rolling in my chest. “Go. I’ll be okay.”
She hesitated, then squeezed my hand. “I’m so sorry,” she breathed. “He’ll come around, I’m sure.”
I nodded wearily, watching her hurry after him. The brunch I’d prepared sat untouched—pastries growing stale, fruit losing its shine. I sat there, hollow, mind replaying Leo’s shock and anger. At least it’s out in the open.
But the raw ache of his abandonment cut deeper than I’d expected.
Eventually, I cleaned up the table in a daze, tossing pastries in a container, dumping untouched coffee. My phone stayed silent, no calls from either of them. When I finally forced myself to text Gina, she replied that Leonardo had taken off, ignoring her too.
Great.
The emptiness of my apartment pressed on me, the hush more oppressive than comforting. I wanted to call Ella and let her know what happened, but the thought of hearing her voice also stung—she’d want to comfort me, or worse, apologize when she has nothing to apologize for.
I made it as far as the den before the weight of everything struck and forced me to sit on a leather armchair that faced a modest fireplace, rarely used because I spent most of my life at the hospital. But now, I needed warmth, something to chase away the chill. I flipped the switch on the gas fireplace, watching the flames flicker to life.
Slumping into the armchair, I raked a hand over my face. Leo walked out without a word. Guilt, anger, sorrow—all warred inside me. I had to do this. The twins are my second chance at fatherhood, and I won’t hide them.
My gaze fell on a glass-fronted cabinet where I kept a few bottles of good scotch for special occasions. This didn’t feel like a celebration, but I needed something to blunt the edges of my emotions. With a sigh, I rose, grabbing a tumbler and pouring two fingers of aged scotch. The amber liquid glinted in the firelight.
Sinking back into the chair, I let out a bitter chuckle. “Cheers to honesty,” I muttered, taking a sip that burned down my throat. Fuck, that stings. But maybe I deserved a little sting.
My phone vibrated once on the side table, and I tensed, hoping it was Leo or Gina. But the screen showed a hospital group text about scheduling changes. Not now. I silenced it, focusing on the quiet flicker of flames.
One crisis at a time, Ella had said before. She was right, but tonight I had no illusions about the magnitude of this crisis.
My stomach churned with the weight of it all—my career, my kids, my future with Ella. If I caved, tried to hide them again, I’d lose everything that mattered, and I wouldn’t be the man they needed me to be.
Minutes blurred, and the scotch still burned. I forced myself not to pour a second round—wallowing in alcohol wouldn’t fix anything. The fire crackled, warm against my skin, reminding me I still had a home, a place to gather the people I loved…if they’d come.
The memory of Gina’s worried eyes spurred a flicker of hope—she’d calm Leonardo down eventually, or at least keep him from doing something drastic. And maybe in time, he’d realize I hadn’t done this to hurt him.
Or maybe not. The ache in my chest deepened. I can’t control his reaction.
I closed my eyes, leaning my head back against the chair. In the darkness behind my eyelids, I pictured Ella’s face—her feisty grin, the way she calmed the twins, her unwavering stance by my side.
Eventually, I stood, placing the half-drained scotch on the mantel. I turned off the fireplace, letting the room plunge into a dim hush. My phone still sat on the side table, dark. No new messages. Which was good and bad.
The second chance I’d been given with these twins felt bittersweet now, overshadowed by the fear that I’d lost my son. But honesty was the only way forward. I squared my shoulders, heading to my bedroom to gather myself, prepare for another day of navigating hospital demands, fatherhood, and a wounded adult son who might not forgive me.
My chest still ached, but beneath the sorrow was a steady determination. I’d stand by this family—my family—no matter what. Because I owed it to the twins, to Ella, and yes, even to Leonardo, to be the father I should’ve been all along.
And if that meant a lonely night with a bottle of scotch, so be it.
