As he approached Kyra’s tombstone, his pulse quickened. A man—tall, stout, and appearing to be in his late fifties—stood near the grave. The stranger, wearing an Irish cap, leaned down to brush dust off the epitaph: “A twinkle in our eyes & hearts is now in the skies. In Loving Memory of Kyra Fox.”
Jordan’s eyes narrowed. Who is this man, and why is he here? He didn’t recognize him from Kyra’s funeral or any moment in their shared past. His stomach knotted as he stepped forward, determined to find out.
“Amen,” the man whispered with a lopsided smirk, finishing the sign of the cross before turning to face Jordan. A glint of eagerness flickered in his eyes as he extended his hand for a handshake—only to withdraw it as soon as his gaze landed on the babies.
Jordan felt his chest tighten. Something about this encounter unsettled him.
“You must be Jordan Fox,” the man said, his voice eerily calm. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. I knew you’d come today, so I waited. I’m Denis…from Chicago…an old friend of Kyra’s.”
Jordan frowned. Kyra had never once mentioned a friend named Denis from Chicago.
“Nice to meet you, Denis,” Jordan replied cautiously. “But I don’t believe we’ve met before. I’ve never been to Chicago, either.”
Denis let out a small chuckle. “No, we haven’t met before. I just arrived in Manhattan recently… I came here for an important reason.” He hesitated, eyes flickering toward the babies in the stroller. “Would you mind if I…took a closer look at them?”
Jordan’s grip on the stroller tightened. He wasn’t about to trust his children with a stranger.
Denis took his silence as a refusal but leaned forward anyway, peering into the stroller. His face softened as he took in the sight of the babies.
“They’re angels,” Denis murmured. “Look at them—chestnut hair, long lashes… They have my eyes, my nose… my features.”
Jordan’s patience wore thin.
“Alright, Denis,” he said, his voice hardening. “Who exactly are you, and why are you here?”
Denis took a deep breath before saying the unthinkable.
“Mr. Fox, I know this might sound impossible, but… I’m the real father of these babies. And I’ve come to take them back.”
Jordan felt his blood freeze. His fingers clenched the stroller handle so tightly that his knuckles turned white.
“EXCUSE ME?” he snapped, barely resisting the urge to punch the man. “You’ve lost your mind. Get the hell out of here before I call the cops.”
Denis, unfazed, continued.
“Please, just listen,” he pleaded. “I know this is difficult to process, but I made a terrible mistake in the past. I want to correct it before it’s too late. I’m offering you $100,000—more if you need. Take the money, and let me take the babies.”
Jordan recoiled in disgust.
“You think you can just buy my kids?” he spat. “You’re insane!”
Denis sighed. “I know more about Kyra than you do. She loved disco, rode motorcycles, and adored French cuisine—Soupe à l’oignon and crème brûlée were her favorites. She had a peanut allergy and a burn scar on her right thigh.”
Jordan’s breath hitched. The burn scar. Kyra had never mentioned it to anyone, yet this man knew. His stomach churned. Could Denis be telling the truth?
Had his entire marriage been a lie?
A Love Built on Deception
The memories came flooding back.
It was the spring of 2016 when Jordan first saw Kyra at the bar where he worked. She was radiant, loud, the life of the party. He fell for her instantly, but she never looked at him that way.
Until the night she got her heart broken.
Drunk and sobbing, she had begged Jordan to take her away from the club. He didn’t hesitate. One thing led to another, and before he knew it, Kyra had confessed her love for him.
Two weeks later, she claimed she was pregnant with his triplets.
Jordan had been shocked. It happened too fast. But he loved her—so he married her. She had never introduced him to her family, claiming they were dead. He believed her.
Now, it all made sense.
She needed someone to father another man’s children.
And he had fallen for it.
The Decision That Changed Everything
Back in the present, Jordan drove home, his mind a storm of emotions. He looked at his triplets sleeping peacefully in their crib.
Denis’s words echoed in his head.
“Take the money and give me the babies.”
His fingers trembled as he reached for the business card Denis had given him. His mind raced. Could he really let them go? Could he live without them?
The next morning, he made his decision. He picked up the phone and called Denis.
“Mr. Roberts,” Jordan said firmly. “I’ve made up my mind. I cannot give up the babies.”
Denis’s voice wavered. “But they’re mine… I have a right to them.”
Jordan’s eyes welled up as he watched his sons stir in their sleep.
“A father isn’t the one who creates life,” he whispered. “A father is the one who raises them.”
Denis fell silent.
“These children are my world,” Jordan continued. “I don’t care if we don’t share the same blood. I won’t trade them for any amount of money.”
Tears welled in Denis’s eyes. “I just… I just wanted to be a part of their lives.”
Jordan exhaled deeply. “Then be their grandfather. Be in their lives. But I will always be their father.”
For the first time since they met, Denis smiled.
“I would like that, Mr. Fox. I would like that very much.”
Jordan set the phone down and looked at his children, his heart swelling with emotion.
He had been deceived. Lied to. But in the end, none of it mattered.
Because love was stronger than blood.