  James

  

      I lean back on my chair exhausted. I didn't get any sleep thinking about what happened yesterday.

  

      "DON'T HURT MY MOM!"

  

      Seeing the kids in person hit home. They looked big yet so small.

  

      I smile remembering the little boy earnestly attacking me to protect Catherine. My boy. An unfamiliar rush of what could only be fatherly pride warms my heart. Which of the boys is he? Arabic or Albinrion?

  

      My thoughts then turn to the other little boy and the beautiful girl pulling on Catherine. The whole bunch has the protective streak.

  

      I open one of my drawers, pulling out the kids' photos from the PI's report.

  

      My kids. And you've missed eight years of their life. You dare call yourself their father?

  

      I shake my head at the thought. Stop. Don't go there. It's too late though as dread weighs my heart.

  

     

  Catherine's POV

  

      After talking to James at his office, I went to lunch as scheduled. The lunch was arranged by Monica, who called to tell me that she would be bringing a friend.

  

      When I got to the café, I asked the waiter for a table reserved for Ms. Woods. Woods was Monica's surname. The waiter took me to my seat, and I saw that there was already a man sitting there. It was Felix, Tracy's father. I was a little surprised. Was he the friend Monica said on the phone? What a coincidence. I went up and asked, "Hello, Sir! Do you remember me? I'm Adela's mother."

  

      He smiled at me, reached out, and kissed the back of my hand. "Of course. How could I forget such a beautiful lady? Tracy talks about you all the time. I didn't know you were the friend Monica mentioned."

  

      "Where's Monica? Why isn't she here?" He was sitting alone in his seat. I didn't see 

  Catherine's POV

  

      Coming out of the café, Monica kept whispering to me that she was sorry, "I didn't know. It was so coincidental."

  

      "Well, who would have thought of that? You don't have to be sorry, Monica, really." I let the children get in the car first and stood next to the car to chat with her for a while. I didn't want her to think too much.

  

      Monica was a person who cared about her friends a lot. She would probably feel guilty about something like that for a long time.

  

      I gently patted her shoulder. "It's OK. I mean it. Would you like to ride with me? I can take you home."

  

      "It's fine. I drove here. Let's meet for coffee sometime."

  

      "OK." I watched her leave. She walked a few steps and still turned to look back at me. I took out my phone and sent her a message: "Really, Monica. Let it slide."

  

      After sending the 

James
  
      I lean back on my chair exhausted. I didn't get any sleep thinking about what happened yesterday.
  
      "DON'T HURT MY MOM!"
  
      Seeing the kids in person hit home. They looked big yet so small.
  
      I smile remembering the little boy earnestly attacking me to protect Catherine. My boy. An unfamiliar rush of what could only be fatherly pride warms my heart. Which of the boys is he? Arabic or Albinrion?
  
      My thoughts then turn to the other little boy and the beautiful girl pulling on Catherine. The whole bunch has the protective streak.
  
      I open one of my drawers, pulling out the kids' photos from the PI's report.
  
      My kids. And you've missed eight years of their life. You dare call yourself their father?
  
      I shake my head at the thought. Stop. Don't go there. It's too late though as dread weighs my heart.
  
      Suddenly, the intercom buzzes. "Excuse me Sir, sorry to disturb but an Archt. Smith

Chapter 15