Chapter 6 - SHATTERED ILLUSIONS
Sebastian arrived exactly at 4:00 PM on Wednesday. He looked entirely out of his element standing in the hallway of my middle-class apartment building, holding three identical teddy bears and looking like he was about to face a firing squad.
I opened the door, motioning for him to come in. The smell of baked ziti filled the apartment. The triplets were in the living room, building a massive fortress out of couch cushions and blankets.
When they saw him, the playing stopped immediately.
Ethan, ever the protector, stepped in front of his siblings, eyeing Sebastian warily. Sophie clutched her favorite blanket, while Lucas tilted his head, studying the tall man in the doorway.
"Hi," Sebastian choked out, his voice cracking. He awkwardly lowered himself to one knee so he was at eye level with them. He set the bears gently on the floor. "I brought you these."
Lucas was the first to step forward. He picked up one of the bears, inspecting it carefully. "Is it my birthday? Mommy only gets us new toys on our birthday or Christmas."
Sebastian swallowed hard, looking up at me with tears pooling in his eyes. I gave him a small, encouraging nod.
"No, it's not your birthday," Sebastian said gently, his voice shaking. "It's just... a gift. Because I've missed a lot of them. And I wanted to make up for it."
"Why did you miss them?" Sophie asked, peering out from behind Ethan. "Were you lost?"
Sebastian let out a broken, tearful laugh. "Yes. I was very lost. For a very long time. But I found my way back."
We sat down on the floor with them. I explained, in the simplest, gentlest terms possible, that Sebastian was their father. That he hadn't known about them, but now that he did, he wanted to be a part of their lives. The children absorbed the information with the surprising resilience that only five-year-olds possess. There was no dramatic crying, no anger. Just a lot of innocent, piercing questions.
"Do you know how to build a pillow fort?" Lucas asked, breaking the tension.
"I'm an architect by trade," Sebastian smiled, wiping a tear from his cheek. "I think I can manage."
For the next two hours, I watched my ex-husband crawl around on the floor, laughing and playing with the children he had been denied. It was a beautiful, heartbreaking sight. For a brief moment, the anger receded, replaced by a profound sadness for what could have been.
But reality has a way of crashing the party.
While Sebastian was washing his hands before dinner, his phone—left on the kitchen counter—lit up. It was a text from Olivia.
The caterer for the charity gala just canceled. Your mother is furious. Tell me you aren't with that woman right now.
I stared at the screen, an idea forming in my mind. A dangerous, explosive idea. The Carter Foundation's Annual Charity Gala was the biggest social event in Chicago. Hundreds of the city's elite, politicians, and media would be there. It was Eleanor Carter's crown jewel.
When Sebastian came back into the kitchen, I handed him his phone. "Olivia is looking for you. The caterer for your mother's gala canceled."
Sebastian frowned, looking at the text. He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don't care about the gala. I need to figure out how to break things off with Olivia without my mother starting World War III."
"Don't break it off yet," I said quietly.
He looked at me, bewildered. "What? Hannah, she threatened you. I know you said she came to your shop. I can't marry her. I can't even look at her."
"I know," I replied, a steely resolve settling over me. "But your mother sent me a letter yesterday. She threatened to take the children. She threatened to ruin my business. She thinks she holds all the cards." I stepped closer to him. "Hire Little Harvest Kitchen to cater the gala."
Sebastian's eyes widened. "Hannah... my mother will publicly humiliate you. It's a trap."
"Let her try," I said, my voice cold as ice. "It's time they learned that the woman they threw away five years ago didn't just survive. She learned how to fight. Put me in that room, Sebastian. Let me cater the event."
May you like
He stared into my eyes, searching for any sign of hesitation. He found none. Slowly, a smirk—the old, arrogant Sebastian smirk I used to love—spread across his face.
"Consider it done."
