The Billionaires Secret Marriage

Henry “Are you at the school yet?” Ernest’s voice booms over the speaker in the car. I’ve been friends with Ernest for over ten years. We met in college abroad, where, kind courtesy of our parents, we both studied business management. That’s what happens when you come from a rich family. He recently reunited with Zelia, his childhood crush, and discovered they had kids together. I was so excited for him, that I volunteered to help with the triplets to give them some alone time. The love they share is something I used to hope for. Then again, maybe not. I’ve already lost that. “Almost there?” I respond while gritting my teeth. It’s that time of year when the traffic’s brutal, and I didn’t leave early enough to beat it. “Why did I even agree to let you pick them up again?” he asks, clearly frustrated. I get it. He’s protective of his kids after missing a decade in their lives. I’d probably be the same way too, if I were in his shoes, but he needs time away with Zelia. Spending time with the triplets... I’m not sure... Soothe me? “Because you trust me?” I reply in a silly voice, causing him to chuckle. “Man… Stop worrying. Enjoy the moments with your wife. I promise to send them home safely. I know I can’t afford any mistakes to happen to them. I mean, if you don’t kill me when something happens to them, you trust Sandra to do it.” “That’s true,” he responds with amusement in his voice. Of course, Sandra, my twin sister—who is yet to know of that fact because I took a sample of her hair without her knowledge—is someone you don't want to cross. She was a military officer before she retired, and somehow, she ended up raising the kids alongside Zelia. It’s complicated. Zelia ran to Japekrom where she met Sandra when she was hiding from her parents, and the kids grew up thinking of Sandra as their aunt. “That girl is something else,” I say as I maneuver my way to the school’s parking lot... “I’ve arrived now, so you can stop worrying,” I tell him. We say our goodbyes and hang up. The school parking lot is chaos. Parents are swarming like ants, kids darting in every direction, and the sound of laughter and shouts ricocheting off the walls of the nearby gym. I check my watch again. Ten minutes late. No wonder Ernest called earlier. Great. Layla, Ethan, and Eliana should have been out ten minutes ago. I offered to pick them up because I love having those kids around me and I also owe Ernest a favor, but I’m quickly starting to regret it. “Hhaaaa” I sigh. I could have been halfway through the mountain of paperwork on my desk by now, or at least nursing a beer. Instead, I’m stuck here, scanning the playground for three familiar heads in the fading light. I spot them finally, but they are not alone. Layla and Eliana are standing with a girl about their age, maybe two or three years younger, probably four. What do I know about kids? The girl is holding onto the hand of a boy who looks nervous. His wide eyes dart around like he’s expecting trouble. And then there’s Ethan, who’s got his arms crossed like he’s ready to fight someone twice his size. What are these kids up to now? I speed up with parking and walk towards them, a bad feeling settling in my stomach. “What’s going on?” I call, stopping just short of the group. Eliana turns first, her brow furrowed. “We couldn’t leave them alone,” she says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Some of the older kids were being mean to them.” “We weren’t being nosy,” Ethan adds, defensive. “No one came to their aid, leaving them completely alone. What were we supposed to do, leave them?” I glance at the other kids. The girl is clutching her brother’s hand so tightly her knuckles are white. The boy looks up at me cautiously, his bottom lip trembling like he’s doing everything he can not to cry again. My heart clenches unexpectedly. “Are you two okay?” I ask, softening my voice. The girl nods quickly. “We’re fine. Thank you,” she says, but there’s a stiffness to her words like she doesn’t quite trust me yet. She straightens her back, trying to seem braver than she probably feels. “They wouldn’t let the bullies take their backpacks,” Layla says proudly, “but we stayed just in case.” “Smart,” I say, though my mind is already spinning. Where the hell are their parents? I glance around the now-empty parking lot. “Is someone coming to pick you up?” I ask the girl. She hesitates, then nods. “Our mom,” she says. “She’s late.” Her brother tugs at her arm. “Mommy’s not coming yet,” he whispers, his voice shaky. “She’s coming. Mom’s been working a lot lately. She’s always planning parties and stuff,” the girl snaps, her cheeks turning red. I look back at Layla, Ethan, and Eliana. They’re watching me like they expect me to fix this somehow. Especially Eliana, giving me that puppy eye I can’t deny. I pinch the bridge of my nose. I’m not cut out for this. “Okay,” I say finally. “Here’s the deal. We’re not sitting here in an empty schoolyard all night. I’ll take all of you to the ice cream shop down the street, and your mom can meet us there when she shows up. "Sound good?” The boy’s eyes light up, but the girl hesitates. “We don’t have any money, moreover our mom asked us to never follow a stranger,” she says, her voice quiet. “Let’s see… The ice cream is on me, and as for your mum, you can call her with my phone to tell her,” I say, trying not to let the frustration creep into my tone. It’s good she taught them to be cautious of strangers, but shouldn’t she be here already? Says the man who was ten minutes late. Maybe I’m not the best one to judge. “Come on, let’s go.” I direct them to sit in the car and caution them. They all sit, and I give my phone to the girl who seems to be warming up to me now to make the call. She punches her mother’s number into my phone and as she talks, I start the car. ........................................... The ice cream shop bustles with families winding down their evenings, the air filled with laughter, clinking spoons, and the sugary scent of vanilla and caramel. Crooked holiday decorations, sparkling lights, and a cardboard Santa hints that Thanksgiving is just around the corner. I find us a place to sit. Layla and Eliana are seated at a booth with the girl who I’ve learned is called Ellie, and Ethan is keeping her brother, Luke, entertained by teaching him how to stack sugar packets into a tower on the opposite side of the same booth. I’m standing off to the side, trying to give them space, but I can’t help glancing over at the table every few seconds. There’s something about the two kids I can’t quite grasp. Maybe it’s how they’re sticking so close to Layla and Eliana as if they’ve decided to trust them completely after just one meeting. Or maybe it’s the way Luke keeps looking at me like he’s studying my face. “Are you their dad?” The question pulls me out of my thoughts. The woman behind the counter is watching me curiously, holding a tray of ice cream cones. “No,” I say quickly. “Just a friend.” She nods, but her eyes linger on me a little longer before she heads back to the kitchen. “Uncle Henry,” Eliana calls, waving me over. “They want to know what flavor you got.” “Mint chocolate chip,” I say automatically, sitting down across from them. Luke wrinkles his nose. “That’s gross.” Ellie elbows him, her face turning red. “Luke, don’t be rude!” I laugh, shaking my head. “It’s okay. Not everyone has good taste.” Luke smiles shyly, and for a second, I forget where I am. His smile is familiar. Uncomfortably so. “We want the turkey sundae,” Eliana declares, and Layla also nods. “She saw Ellie eying that,” Ethan whispers in my ears and I nod, then place the order for it. “Thanks,” Ellie shyly whispers when the server brings the ice cream. She eats it like she hasn’t eaten something like this before, which is strange. This is something even locals buy when it’s Thanksgiving season. Before I can think too hard about it, the bell above the door jingles, and a woman steps inside. She’s out of breath, her coat slipping off her shoulder, and her hair pulled back into a messy bun. Her eyes scan the room, and when she spots Ellie and Luke, relief floods her face. “There’s your mom,” I say, motioning toward the door. I only guessed with the relief on her face when she spotted them. She walks towards us. Ellie and Luke slide out of the booth immediately, running to her with outstretched arms. “Mommy!” “Thank God,” she breathes, dropping to her knees to pull them into a hug. “I’m so sorry, babies. I got stuck at work, then traffic.” She closes her eyes to take them in. “It’s okay, Mommy,” Ellie says, clinging to her while Luke hugs both of them like he’s the only man they need. Where’s their dad? He could have picked them up if she was busy. Don’t do this now Henry. I chastise myself. I stand, intending to let them have their moment, but then she looks up. And everything inside me stops. My heartbeat quickens and for a second I can’t breathe. I just stand there— Frozen. My hands clench into fists, not out of anger but because if I don’t ground myself, I might collapse right here on this sticky tile floor. It’s her. Ashley. I shake my head, close my eyes then open them to make sure my eyes are not deceiving me. Oh God! She’s here and Alive with kids. Two kids. What’s going on? Or is she not the…. No… I inhale sharply, the scent of lavender and vanilla hitting me like a wave. It’s her. It has to be her. But how? The woman I’ve spent six years searching for, grieving for, wishing for. The woman who walked out of my life without a trace. The woman who owns my heart is standing right here. She walks up to me and then smiles at me, polite but distracted. “Thank you so much for staying with them,” she says, her voice warm while clinging to the kids tightly as if afraid something will happen to them. But what I can’t tell. I open my mouth to respond, but no sound comes out. Something is wrong. Her eyes pass over me without a hint of recognition. She couldn’t have forgotten me. Could she? It can’t be… It can’t be that she doesn’t know me right? Is she still angry so she chose to pretend? but that's not right We spent one Easter, one Halloween, one Thanksgiving, one Christmas, and one Valentine together, or should I say two, considering how the second one is the reason we are here today... separated. “Ashley?” I whisper, the name slipping out before I can stop it. There’s a flash of something in her eyes—recognition? Shock? Pain?—but she blinks, and it’s gone. “Yes?” she replies carefully, her tone guarded. “Do I… Do I know you?” she swallows hard, her throat moving with a visible lump. I study her closely. There’s really no recognition in her eyes, but there’s a hesitation as if she’s trying to piece something together. Her laughter just flashed in my mind. I ground myself not to get lost in her memories now. “Of course, not” I manage finally to say, my voice rough. "But…" she says, trailing off, as though trying to piece something together. I swallow the lump in my throat and jump in before she can continue. "You look like someone I think I saw at an event," I blurt out, the lie slipping easily into the air. "I overheard your name and thought it might be you." It’s not entirely untrue. I did see her at an event, but that’s not how I know her name. She’s not buying it. She was always too smart for her own good. “The Duffie Charity gala”, I add, and she nods in recognition. I sigh in relief. “Thank you very much once again Sir.” “Henry… call me Henry” I introduce, hoping to God she remembers the name, but she just nods and then turns to her children. “Come on, kids,” she says, taking their hands. “Let’s go home.” She turns one more time to look at me, then says “Thank you so much for keeping them company.” “No problem. It was my pleasure.” I watch them leave, the weight of everything hitting me all at once. Six years. Six goddamn years. And she doesn’t even seem to know me. “I didn’t want to say it, but I will.” Ethan leans closer, his voice low. “They look like you.”