My Ex-Husband Invited Me To Christmas To Flaunt His New Bride—Until A Military Chopper Dropped Me Off With The Quadruplets He Claimed I Invented!

Tristan looked up, his eyes bloodshot, desperate. ""And me? Grace... can I... can we talk? Can I come to Boise?""

The four boys turned their heads in unison, looking at the man who shared their DNA. There was no hatred in their eyes; there was simply no connection. To them, Tristan Holloway wasn't a monster; he was just an overdressed stranger who had made a very foolish mistake.

Mason stepped toward him, keeping his hands casually in his parka pockets.

""You told Mom she made us up,"" Mason said simply. ""You told your friends we weren't real so you wouldn't have to be a dad.""

""Mason, I was wrong—I was so stupid, I didn't know—"" Tristan choked out, reaching down toward his son.

Mason took one step back, out of arm's reach. ""You can come to our games if Grandma brings you. But you don't get to act like our dad just because you figured out we're real. Our dad would have checked on us eight years ago.""

The finality in the eight-year-old boy's voice hit harder than any court ruling or military demotion ever could. Tristan lowered his hand, his head sinking back into his chest, totally defeated.

I checked my watch. ""The flight crew is waiting, boys. We have a forty-minute transit back to the airfield, and you have school on Monday.""

""Can Uncle Dave let us look at the night vision goggles again?"" Liam asked eagerly, his eyes lighting up.

""If you finish your seatbelt checks without arguing,"" I replied with a smile.

We turned toward the Great Hall's double doors. Evelyn stood up and walked us to the threshold, her hand resting gently on Caleb’s shoulder for just a moment—a gesture filled with regret, but also the fragile seed of something new.