The Proposal I Was Never Sure I Wanted

By six o’clock that Friday evening, Grant Hollowell’s future had already been arranged for him.

His charcoal suit had been delivered from a tailor on Chicago’s Oak Street. His grandfather’s silver cuff links rested perfectly beneath his sleeves. Inside the breast pocket of his jacket was a diamond ring chosen after three meetings with a private jeweler and several quiet conversations with his mother.

At eight, Grant was expected to ask Camille Redford to marry him during a private reception at the Hollowell family’s glass rooftop garden overlooking Lake Michigan.

Everyone important would be there.

His mother. Camille’s parents. Several board members. Two senior partners from Redford Capital.

The marriage would strengthen a business partnership that both families had been building for years.

There was only one problem.

Grant respected Camille, but he had never loved her.

He had learned long ago that men born into families like his were expected to treat personal happiness as negotiable.

That evening, he had almost convinced himself he could do it.

Then he walked into the restroom of the restaurant downstairs.

Four little boys in matching navy sweaters stood near the sinks, trying to dry their hands beneath an automatic dryer that seemed determined not to cooperate.

They looked about six years old.

Grant smiled briefly and stepped toward the mirror.

Then one of the boys pushed his dark hair away from his forehead with two fingers, tilted his head, and rubbed the back of his neck.

Grant froze.

Another boy did exactly the same thing.

Then the third.

Then the fourth.

Grant stared at their reflections.

His father had teased him about that habit since childhood. Whenever Grant felt nervous, he pushed his hair back before touching the left side of his neck.

One of the boys noticed him watching.

“Why are you staring at us?”

Grant blinked.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

The boy narrowed his gray eyes.

“You do the neck thing too.”

Grant slowly looked at himself in the mirror.

Same gray eyes.

Same narrow chin.

Same slight crease beside the left cheek when they smiled.

Even their eyebrows reminded him of photographs taken when he was a child.

The tallest boy offered his hand with surprising confidence.

“I’m Miles. Those are Mason, Micah, and Milo. We’re brothers.”

Grant shook his tiny hand automatically.

“All the same age?”

Miles grinned.

“We’re quadruplets.”

Grant felt something tighten in his chest.

“Where’s your father?”

The boy’s smile faded.

“We don’t have one.”

Grant swallowed.

“And your mother?”

Miles pointed toward the restaurant.

“She works here.”

Grant followed the direction of his finger.

And six years disappeared in a single heartbeat.

The Woman I Thought Had Left Me

Tessa Marlowe stood beside the service station wearing a black apron over a simple blue blouse.

Grant recognized her immediately.

The soft brown hair was shorter now. There were tired lines around her eyes that had not existed when they were twenty-six. But she still had the same hazel-green eyes and the small crescent-shaped scar near her right eyebrow.

Grant had once known every expression on that face.

He had once believed he would grow old beside her.

Then she vanished.

At least, that was what he had been told.

A restaurant supervisor stood across from Tessa, speaking in a low but firm voice.

“I’m sorry, but the staff room cannot be used overnight.”

Tessa lowered her voice.

“I understand. I only need a few hours. The temporary housing office said they can place us tomorrow morning.”

“I wish I could help, but I can’t make an exception.”

Grant barely heard the rest.

Tessa looked toward the restroom and saw him.

Her face changed instantly.

Shock.

Then fear.

Then something colder.

“Boys, get your coats.”

Grant stepped forward.

“Tessa.”

She moved between him and the children.

“Not here, Grant.”

Outside, Chicago’s February wind rushed between the downtown buildings. Two faded travel bags sat near the restaurant’s side entrance.

Grant looked at them, then at the four children.

“Where are you staying tonight?”

“That isn’t your concern.”

“You have four children standing outside in winter.”

Her eyes flashed.

“I’ve managed without your concern for six years.”

The sentence struck him harder than he expected.

Grant reached into his wallet and removed a key card.

“I have an apartment in River North that I barely use. It’s empty. Take the boys there tonight.”

Tessa shook her head immediately.

“No.”

“I’m not asking for anything.”

“You Hollowells never give something without wanting something back.”

Before Grant could answer, Micah tugged gently at her sleeve.

“Mom, I’m really tired.”

Tessa closed her eyes.

That was enough.

She accepted the card.

When Grant’s driver opened the SUV door, she stopped beside him.

“Do not mistake this for permission to enter our lives.”

Grant looked past her at the four boys climbing into the vehicle.

“I’m not asking for permission yet.”

His voice softened.

“I’m trying to understand why four children I’ve never met look exactly like me.”

Tessa’s face became unreadable.

She entered the SUV without answering.

Grant stood on the sidewalk for several seconds.

Then he pulled out his phone.

“Daphne, cancel tonight’s announcement.”

His executive assistant went silent.

“The proposal?”

“Everything.”

“Grant, there are more than sixty guests upstairs.”

“Send my apologies.”

“Your mother is going to call you immediately.”

Grant looked at the SUV disappearing into traffic.

“I know.”

Two Completely Different Stories

Grant lasted less than an hour before going to the apartment.

He had promised himself he would leave Tessa alone until morning.

He could not.

When he entered, two boys were asleep beneath blankets on the large sectional sofa. The other two sat on the rug building a tower from wooden blocks the concierge had found in a storage closet.

Tessa stood in the kitchen holding a mug with both hands.

She looked exhausted.

“You said no questions tonight.”

“I know.”