Sophie tugged the rainbow wig snugly over her hair and stepped into the Italian bistro, scanning for a man in a paper hat. That was the plan—they’d dress silly so they could spot each other instantly on their blind date.
In the far booth, she spotted him.
“Hi,” the man smiled, standing. “You must be Sophie.”
“And you must be Nathan,” she replied, matching his grin.
What started as playful banter quickly turned into real chemistry. They joked about their getups, shared pasta, and talked about their lives. Both were single parents to teenage boys, both had lost someone, and both were trying to start fresh.
Then Nathan pulled out his phone and showed her a photo of his son.
“This is Mason. He’s 14, loves painting.”
Sophie’s face fell. “That’s… impossible.”
“What do you mean?” Nathan asked.
She pulled out her phone and showed him a photo of her son, Caleb, in his soccer gear.
The resemblance was shocking—they looked exactly the same. Same smile. Same eyes. Same age.
“What’s your son’s birthday?” Nathan asked.
“April 16,” Sophie answered.
Nathan swallowed hard. “That’s Mason’s birthday too.”
They stared at each other, stunned.
“You adopted, right?” Sophie asked.
“No,” Nathan replied. “I was there when he was born.”
“But… I adopted Caleb. My husband handled everything when I was recovering from surgery. I never saw the papers myself.”
Both fell silent.
“I need to talk to my ex-wife,” Nathan said suddenly. “She’s the only one who might know something.”
He stood and left, leaving Sophie in shock.
Back home, Sophie dug through the attic for answers—old boxes, dusty memories, and finally, a chest of her late husband Eric’s belongings. Inside was a letter.
She opened it, hands trembling.
“Dear Sophie, I’ve been lying to you for a long time…”
