At the clinic, Laura’s world transformed. She watched the embryo transfer with tears of awe. “This is it,” the doctor whispered.
Weeks later, the pregnancy test glowed positive. She sank to her knees, laughing and crying at once. Her dream was real.
Months rolled into years. Against all odds, her miracle multiplied: she delivered healthy triplets—two girls and a boy. Sleepless nights turned into playful mornings, lullabies into laughter, exhaustion into joy.
Her living room that once echoed with silence now danced with squeals, crayons, and birthday balloons. She had not just survived—she had flourished.
And Curtis? He knew nothing.
One morning, years later, a cream-colored envelope slid beneath Curtis’s hotel door. The note inside read simply: Come see what you left behind.
He frowned, assuming it was Carol’s dramatic gesture, but curiosity tugged at him. Following the address, he found himself standing before a sleek private jet, the name Bennett Private emblazoned on the side.
Confused, he boarded. His breath caught when he saw Laura, radiant in an ivory suit, seated with calm composure.
“Hello, Curtis,” she said coolly.
He blinked. “Laura? What is this?”
“I thought it was time we caught up,” she replied.
He gestured around. “You travel on private jets now?”
“Occasionally,” Laura said smoothly. “It’s easier with three little ones.”
Curtis froze. “Three… what?”
“Triplets,” she answered evenly. “Two girls and a boy. They’re six.”
