The Children He Never Knew

Part 2: The Father Who Came Too Late

At six the next morning, Adrian Moretti was already at North Harbor Medical Center.

He hadn’t slept.

He had spent the entire night studying the photographs of Sophie and Noah, memorizing their tiny faces as if doing so could make up for the eight months he had missed.

Dr. Ethan Walsh met him outside the neonatal follow-up clinic.

“Your children are healthy now,” the doctor explained. “They were born prematurely, but they’ve made remarkable progress. Sophie is a little more delicate than her brother, and Noah has a habit of grabbing everything within reach.”

Adrian managed a faint smile.

“What about Claire?”

“She was exhausted after delivery. She experienced complications and needed several weeks to recover. But she handled everything herself.”

The doctor’s expression hardened.

“Mr. Moretti, I don’t know what happened between you and your wife, but she came here alone. She had no one to drive her home, no family waiting outside, and no husband to call.”

Adrian lowered his eyes.

“I know.”

“No, I don’t think you do.”

Dr. Walsh handed him a folder containing the twins’ medical photographs.

“Your daughter cried whenever she was separated from her mother. Your son had difficulty gaining weight during his first weeks. Claire barely slept because she insisted on caring for both babies herself.”

Adrian stared at the photographs.

“I missed everything.”

“Yes,” the doctor replied quietly. “You did.”

Later that morning, Marcus arrived with another folder.

“Sir, I found Claire’s current employment information.”

Adrian looked up.

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“Where is she?”

“She works as a registered nurse at Lakeside Children’s Clinic. She’s renting a modest apartment on the north side. But there’s something else.”

Marcus hesitated.

“What?”

“She’s submitted a request to transfer her nursing license to another state. She’s also made inquiries about relocating to Boston.”

Adrian’s stomach tightened.

“When?”

“Three weeks ago.”

He looked at the photographs again.

“She’s leaving.”

“It appears so, sir.”

Adrian stood.

“Prepare the car.”

“Where are we going?”

“To see my children.”

Marcus paused.

“Does Mrs. Moretti know you’re coming?”

“No.”

“Perhaps you should call first.”

Adrian looked at him.

“You’re right.”

For once, he didn’t issue an order.

He picked up his phone and called the clinic.

A receptionist answered.

“Lakeside Children’s Clinic. How may I help you?”

“My name is Adrian Moretti. I’m the father of Sophie and Noah Moretti. I’d like to arrange a visit with their mother.”

There was a brief silence.

“I’m sorry, sir. Mrs. Moretti has requested that all visits be arranged through her directly.”

Adrian swallowed.

“Could you please tell her I called?”

“I can pass along the message.”

He ended the call.

For the first time, he understood that being their father didn’t automatically give him the right to walk into their lives.

An hour later, his phone rang.

Claire.

He stared at her name for several seconds before answering.

“Claire.”

“Don’t come to my apartment.”

Her voice was calm, but distant.

“I wasn’t going to.”

“Good.”

“Can we talk?”

“No.”

“Please. I need to see Sophie and Noah.”

“They’re sleeping.”

“I just want to meet them.”

Silence followed.

Then Claire spoke.

“You had eight months to meet them, Adrian.”

His throat tightened.

“I didn’t know.”

“You didn’t know because you never bothered to check.”

“I received the messages. Someone marked them as read, but I never saw—”

“Stop.”

Her voice trembled.

“Do you know what it felt like to sit in a hospital bed, holding two newborn babies, wondering whether their father even knew they existed?”

Adrian closed his eyes.

“I’m sorry.”

“I don’t need your apology. I needed you when I was carrying them. I needed you when I was terrified of losing them. I needed you when Sophie stopped breathing properly during her first night.”

His face went pale.

“What?”

“She was premature, Adrian. She needed oxygen. I sat beside her incubator for eleven hours.”

He gripped the edge of his desk.

“Claire…”

“And while I was praying that our daughter would survive, you were attending charity dinners with Vanessa.”

He had no answer.

Finally, Claire said, “You can meet them. But not because you have money, not because you’re a Moretti, and certainly not because you suddenly feel guilty.”

“What do I have to do?”

“Learn to respect their mother.”

The call ended.

Adrian remained motionless.

Then he quietly told Marcus, “Cancel every meeting today.”

“Sir?”

“I have two children to meet.”

At three that afternoon, Adrian arrived at Claire’s apartment.

He carried no expensive gifts, no jewelry, and no entourage.

Only a small bag containing two stuffed animals.

Claire opened the door.

She looked thinner than he remembered, her dark hair tied loosely behind her head. She wore a cream sweater and black trousers.

But her eyes were different.

They no longer searched his face for affection.

“Come in,” she said.

Adrian stepped inside.

The apartment was small but immaculate. A double stroller stood beside the sofa, and tiny clothes hung neatly beside the window.

Then he heard a giggle.

A little boy crawled across the living-room rug.

Adrian stopped breathing.

Noah.

His son had dark hair, round cheeks, and bright gray eyes.

Behind him, Claire carried a little girl wearing a pale pink dress.

“Sophie,” she whispered, adjusting the baby’s blanket.

Adrian’s eyes filled immediately.

“They’re beautiful.”

Claire didn’t respond.

Noah noticed the stranger and crawled closer.

Adrian slowly lowered himself onto one knee.

“Hello, little man.”

Noah stared at him.

Then he grabbed Adrian’s expensive watch.

A broken laugh escaped Adrian.

“Strong hands. Just like your grandfather.”

Sophie looked at him from her mother’s arms.

For a moment, their eyes met.

Adrian reached out, but Claire instinctively stepped backward.

“Not yet.”

He immediately withdrew his hand.

“Of course.”

They sat together for nearly an hour.

Adrian watched Claire feed Sophie, change Noah’s diaper, and sing softly when the little girl became restless.

She did everything naturally.

He realized he didn’t know how she preferred to hold Sophie, which bottle Noah liked, or what made either baby laugh.

He knew nothing.

When it was time to leave, Adrian placed the stuffed animals on the table.

“Thank you for letting me meet them.”

Claire nodded.

At the door, he turned around.

“Claire, I want to be involved. I’ll do whatever you allow.”

She looked at him for a long moment.

“Then start by coming back tomorrow. At the time you promise.”

Adrian nodded.

“I will.”

For the first time, Claire didn’t tell him to leave forever.

But she didn’t smile either.

And Adrian understood that this was only the beginning.