These are my children,” she said, changing the subject abruptly, as if it were her way of reclaiming power over the conversation. Her gaze softened as she glanced down at the stroller. “They are my life now.”

He nodded, looking at the tiny faces peeking out from the blankets. “They’re beautiful,” he said, his voice choked with an emotion he couldn’t fully articulate.

“Thank you,” she replied, her tone softening for the first time. The wall around her heart was fortified by years of hurt, but even a fortress had its windows.

There was a silence, a fragile pause in their conversation where the world continued its dance around them. The city life buzzed, but in their small pocket of existence, time seemed to slow.

“What are their names?” he asked, his curiosity genuine.

“Olivia, Emma, and Lucas,” she replied, with a mother’s pride that shone through her guarded demeanor.

“Beautiful names.” He smiled, a small gesture that felt like a tentative step towards reconciliation.

“Thank you,” she said again, but the word carried a different weight this time—less formal, more conversational.

He took a deep breath, summoning the courage to ask the question that had been gnawing at him since he saw her. “Is there any chance I could be a part of their lives? Even in the smallest way?”

Elena hesitated, caught off guard by the vulnerability in his request. A part of her wanted to reject him outright, to shield her children from any potential disappointment. But another part remembered the love they once shared and wondered if people could change.

“I don’t know,” she said finally, honesty lacing her words. “It’s not just about me anymore. It’s about them, their needs, their happiness.”

“Of course,” he agreed, his eyes earnest. “I would never want to disrupt their lives. I just… want a chance to know them. And maybe, in time, to earn your trust again.”

She looked down at her children, her heart tangled with emotions she hadn’t expected to feel. The decision wasn’t simple, wasn’t easy, but it was hers to make.