There was no denying it.
99.999%.
There was no way Sylvia could refute the result now.
He had imagined this mont countless tis of what it would feel like to finally know the truth. But now that it was here, he didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or scream.
His twins. His children.
Ro leaned back in the chair, exhaling shakily as he pressed a hand over his mouth.
"All this ti..." he muttered, his voice cracking. "All this ti, she kept this from ..."
Dr. Felize gave him a sympathetic look before quietly excusing herself, leaving him alone in the room.
Silence settled around him.
"H-hahaha... ha..."
Ro let out a soft, bitter laugh, one that quickly turned into a deep sigh.
"Sylvia... what have you done to ?" he whispered.
He stared at the paper again, his hands trembling. He didn’t know whether to be happy because at last, he had a right to his children—or to grieve for the years that had been stolen from him.
Years he could never get back.
He stood abruptly, pacing the floor.
"Why didn’t she tell ?" he muttered under his breath. "Did she really think I wouldn’t care? That I wouldn’t want them?"
His jaw tightened, his chest burning as a deep ache spread through him.
He rembered Sylvia’s betrayal from the past — the night she chose another man and left without a trace.
There had been no sign that she was pregnant back then... unless she had purposely hidden it from him.
If she had only told him and if she had given him a chance he might not have locked her away in that condo out of desperation, or let her run off with Greece.
Maybe he would’ve taken her far away instead, away from everyone, and built a family of their own.
But that never happened.
Instead, Sylvia vanished, leaving him with nothing but anger and questions. And worst of all, she ran away with another man.
Ro’s hands curled into fists. Did she really hate him that much, that she couldn’t even let him be the father of their children?
But now, seeing her again after six years... seeing her raise their kids alone... he couldn’t help but wonder how hard it must have been for her to raise twins all by herself.
And where was that man now, the one she had run away with? Why wasn’t he by her side anymore? None of it made sense.
Just thinking about that man reignited the fury in his chest, but this ti, he forced himself to let it go. Because none of that mattered now.
What mattered was that he was a father—a father to Sylvia’s twins. Their twins.
And for that, he was willing to forget everything, the pain, the betrayal, the years of resentnt. He would throw it all away if it ant he could be part of their lives.
He would never let his children live feeling incomplete when they deserved a father—when they deserved to know him.
He was willing to give them everything they needed, to give them the life they deserved.
His grip on the paper tightened once more, his jaw set with resolve.
He had hated Sylvia for so long, but now, all that hatred was tangled with longing and sothing else he couldn’t quite na.
"If I go to her now..." he murmured. "will she even let see them? Or will she push away again?"
Fear gnawed at him, a kind of fear he had never known before. He had faced business rivals and enemies, but none of that terrified him as much as the thought of facing Sylvia—and their twins.
He took one last look at the paper, his eyes softening, before carefully folding it and slipping it into his pocket as if it were the most fragile thing he owned.
"Alright," he whispered to himself. "If I have to start over, I will. For them."
As Ro stepped out of Dr. Felize’s office, he unexpectedly bumped into a man, causing a few fruits to tumble out of the basket the man was carrying.
His eyes followed the apples rolling across the floor before he bent down, intending to pick one up but the man quickly stopped him.
"Don’t bother picking that up. It’s already dirty."
Ro looked up, and his gaze t the man’s serious face.
For a mont, he froze, caught off guard by the stranger’s presence. The man looked foreign—tall, well-built, with a calm yet commanding aura that drew attention effortlessly. There was sothing about him that felt oddly familiar.
"Sorry," Ro muttered, straightening up. "Didn’t an to bump into you."
The man let out a faint sigh, adjusting his grip on the basket. "It’s fine," he replied simply. Then, without another glance, he turned as if to leave.
Ro’s brows furrowed.
"Wait-!" he called out before he could stop himself. "Have we t before?"
The man paused mid-step and glanced back at him. For a brief mont, his expression was unreadable and cold. Then, a faint, knowing smile curved his lips.
"No," he said evenly. "I believe this is our first ti seeing each other."
And with that, the man walked away, leaving Ro standing in the hallway, confused and unsettled by the strange encounter.
Ro’s gaze followed the man until he disappeared into one of the hospital rooms.
Why does he feel so familiar? Ro wondered, trying to recall where he might have seen that figure before, but nothing ca to mind.
Sighing heavily, he shook his head and forced himself to shrug it off. "I’m probably just overthinking..." he muttered under his breath.
He continued walking toward the exit, but as he passed through the hospital lobby, he suddenly stopped.
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a woman rushing toward the doors—her shoulders trembling, tears streaming down her face.
His heart skipped a beat.
"Sylvia...?" he whispered.
Without hesitation, he followed her, pushing through the doors and searching for the woman outside. But there was no one there. The woman was gone.
He blinked twice, his chest tightening. Maybe his mind was playing tricks on him.
It’s just stress, he told himself. And Sylvia’s the only thing he’s been thinking about since he got that result.
Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that what he saw was Sylvia.
But Sylvia had no reason to be at the hospital. It was impossible.
He rubbed a hand over his face, trying to clear his thoughts, before finally deciding to head to his car. Yet as he walked, the image of the crying woman lingered stubbornly in his mind along with the mory of the strange man with the familiar figure.
***************
"Hey, look at Ro, man... don’t you think he’s acting strange today?"
Calyx muttered before leaning closer to Alfonso to whisper.
"What do you an?" Alfonso asked, glancing toward Ro, who sat at the far end of the table, a half-empty bottle of whiskey beside him.
"Look at him, bro. You know he’s a lightweight and can easily get drunk, but look at him now. He’s already on his fourth bottle and he’s still not drunk. Don’t you think it’s weird? What if... what if this isn’t Ro we’re drinking with, but Greece?"
Calyx whispered, though not quite low enough because Ro could still clearly hear him.
Ro, on the other hand, didn’t react. He simply kept his eyes on the glass in his hand, swirling the amber liquid before taking another slow sip. He didn’t even flinch.
They were at a high-end bar, one of his usual spots whenever he wanted peace or in this case, an escape.
After the paternity results, the weight pressing on his chest had grown unbearable, and the only thing he could think of was to call his friends for drinks.
"Oh, look at him, guys!" Calyx said again, half-laughing. "That’s his fourth bottle already. He’s downing whiskey like it’s water! Are we sure this is Ro sitting with us and not Greece?"
"Tsk. Stop saying weird things, Calyx," Alfonso replied, giving him a look. "Can’t you see how he’s glaring at us? That’s definitely Ro. You can’t mistake that cold stare for anyone else."
Calyx lifted his hands defensively. "I know, I know. But still—it’s giving chills, man. You think this has sothing to do with Sylvia again? Every ti he’s like this, she’s always the reason.." Calyx whispered, making Alfonso chuckle.
"I think so too. Maybe Sylvia dumped him again. That’s why he called us here."
Ro’s eyes flicked sharply toward them, his stare so cold that Alfonso imdiately straightened in his seat.
Alpheus and Dave, seated across from them, exchanged glances, trying not to laugh at the mont.
"She didn’t dump ," Ro said flatly, setting his glass down with a clink. "That’s not why I called you guys."
His tone made the group fall silent. Even the music from the bar seed to fade into the background.
He leaned back in his chair, exhaling deeply as he stared at the swirling whiskey in his glass. His voice was lower when he spoke again.
"I just... needed to clear my head."
Alpheus leaned forward slightly. "What happened this ti, Ro?"
Ro’s thoughts drifted back to the paternity test result now sitting inside his coat pocket—the truth that had shaken his world.
He looked up at his friends, his eyes tired. "I found out sothing today," he said quietly. "Sothing that changes... my entire world."
The others exchanged uneasy glances.
"What do you an?" Dave asked carefully.
Ro took another long sip before answering. "I had a paternity test done."
That caught everyone’s attention.
Calyx blinked. "Wait—paternity test? As in, for...?"
Ro’s lips curled into a faint, humorless smile. "For the twins."
A beat of silence followed before Alfonso spoke again. "Wait—don’t tell ..."
Ro’s gaze hardened as he t their eyes, his next words coming out low but clear.
"They’re mine."
The table fell completely silent. The laughter and teasing, all of it vanished.
Ro’s friends exchanged glances. They already knew the twins were his, but in Ro’s case, he needed proof to make himself eligible as their father.
Ro just poured himself another drink, watching the whiskey rise inside the glass.
For the first ti that night, his friends didn’t stop him. They all knew the truth had shaken him to his core—and no amount of alcohol could drown that kind of pain.
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