Seven years after my divorce from Hannah, I finally found the courage to stand outside her door on Christmas Eve.

I had not gone there expecting my life to change.

I only wanted to admit something I should have admitted years earlier: I had been wrong.

But when the door opened, I saw a little boy standing behind Hannah.

He had the same blue-gray eyes I saw every morning when I looked in the mirror.

I stared at him, unable to speak.

“How old is he?” I finally asked.

Hannah looked at me for several seconds before quietly answering.

“Seven.”

The number seemed to echo in my head.

Seven years.

Seven years of a life I had never known existed.

Then Hannah handed me a letter.

Then Hannah handed me a letter… and what it revealed changed everything I thought I knew about the past.
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