Elias spent the twenty-four hours between the visits in a frenzy of focused research. He didn't sleep. He wasn't tracking market trends; he was tracking children's preferences. He learned that the wooden trains he'd bought were outdated. He learned that Seth had a mild allergy to peanuts. He learned that Silas, the quiet one, was obsessed with a niche animated series called Astro-Pups.
His staff had bought out every piece of Astro-Pups merchandise in a three-city radius. He didn't want to just play; he wanted to connect.
The second visit on Thursday was at a different neutral location—a high-end, closed-off children's museum. When Kaelen walked in with the boys, her expression was icier than before, her guard strengthened by the fear he'd instilled.
"One hour, Elias," Kaelen stated, placing the timer on the edge of a sensory table. "Rhys and I have agreed to a zero-tolerance policy. One mistake, one emotional outburst, and the visits stop. Permanently."
Elias ignored her threat. He walked straight to Silas, who was clutching his old wooden train.
"Silas," Elias said softly, kneeling down to his level. "I was wrong about trains. They are quiet time. But I brought you something better. Something for an Astro-Pup leader."
Elias opened a large, innocuous box, revealing a meticulously detailed, motorized replica of the Astro-Pup starship. Silas's reserved demeanor fractured completely. His blue eyes widened, and he let out a gasp so genuine it brought a lump to Elias's throat.
"The Comet-Cruiser!" Silas breathed, dropping the wooden train.
Elias had bypassed Kaelen's defenses by knowing something deeply personal about his son.
Seth, instantly jealous, rushed over. "What about me, Mr. Thorne? I'm the fastest!"
"And fast requires fuel," Elias said smoothly, handing Seth a brand new, soccer-themed lunchbox packed with non-allergic snacks Rhys and Kaelen approved. "Your job is to make sure your brother doesn't run out of energy to pilot that ship."
The simple act of being seen and understood instantly bonded the boys to him. They immediately began playing, their voices rising in excitement.
Kaelen watched the scene, her face frozen in shock. He hadn't bought expensive, showy gifts; he'd bought connection. He had spent the last twenty-four hours dissecting her children's inner lives.
"How did you know about Astro-Pups?" she demanded, her voice barely a whisper.
"I learned," Elias replied, standing up to meet her eye. He dropped the formal "Mr. Thorne" facade. "You gave me an hour, Kaelen. I didn't waste it. I'm not here to fight you; I'm here to know my sons."
For the next fifty minutes, Elias was perfect. He engaged, he laughed, and he let Silas take the lead with the spaceship. He even made a point of handing Kaelen a juice box for Seth when the boy looked thirsty, demonstrating that he had mastered the twins' routine better than she expected.
As the timer ticked down to the final minute, Silas looked up at Elias, his expression serious.
"Are you going to be the Astro-Pup captain next time?" Silas asked.
Elias's heart soared. "Only if you show me how to pilot the ship, Commander."
"Okay," Silas said, nodding decisively.
Kaelen intervened, pulling the boys close. "Time to go, boys. Say goodbye to Mr. Thorne."
As she ushered them toward the exit, Elias didn't try to stop her. He watched them go, basking in the small victory.
But as Kaelen guided the boys through the door, she paused. She turned back to Elias, and for the first time since their reunion, the cold mask slipped. Her eyes were clouded with regret, looking past the successful father figure and straight to the betrayal of the past.
"You were always good at research, Elias," she said, her voice strained. "You knew exactly what I needed when we were together, too. But that never stopped you from walking away."
The door clicked shut, leaving Elias alone, the confession echoing in the vast room. The pain of her words cut deeper than any corporate failure. He hadn't just failed to show up for his sons; he had destroyed the one person who truly saw him.