Page 88 of Triplet Trouble For My Billionaire Boss

“And then Evelyn said we could pick one snack each,” Robbie says, his voice rising with excitement. “I picked the dinosaur gummies. You know, the ones with the blue T-Rexes?”

“Good choice,” I say, smiling. “Did Evelyn pick a snack too?”

Robbie nods emphatically. “She got pretzels. But not the twisty ones—the little sticks.”

I chuckle, finishing the last bite of my toast. Robbie’s stories remind me of how much I’ve missed in his life, how many moments like this I’ve let slip by. Annie’s voice echoes in my mind:He’ll think it’s his fault. He’ll think he wasn’t enough for you, when the truth is, you just didn’t show him that he was.

Not if I can help it.

After breakfast, I help Robbie get ready for school. He chatters as we head upstairs, his energy boundless. I guide him through the process of brushing his teeth and fixing his hair, though his cowlick refuses to cooperate.

By the end, we’re both a little frustrated—me because I’ve never done this before, and him because I’m supposed to be the one who helps him, but instead, he’s the one helping me.

His school uniform is a little wrinkled from the effort, and he frowns as I try to smooth it out.

“Do I look okay?” he asks, his voice tinged with worry.

“You look great,” I assure him, straightening his tie and his button-up. “Handsome as ever.”

He grins, the worry melting away. “Thanks, Dad.”

Ellis meets us by the front door, his expression as composed as always. He holds Robbie’s backpack in one hand and a neatly folded jacket in the other.

“Ready for school, Master Robbie?” Ellis asks.

“Yup!” Robbie chirps, grabbing his bag.

I kneel to his level, adjusting the strap of his backpack. “Be good today, okay? Listen to your teacher and don’t forget to tell me about your day when you get home.”

His eyes light up. “Are you going to be here?”

“Yes, buddy,” I say, my voice soft. “I’ll be here.”

Robbie’s grin widens, and he throws his arms around my neck in an impulsive hug. The unexpected warmth of it catches me off guard,but I return it, squeezing him tightly. When he pulls back, his face is flushed with happiness, and something deep in my chest twists.

“Okay, I’ll tell you everything!” he promises, his voice full of enthusiasm.

Ellis steps in smoothly, gently guiding Robbie toward the door. “Come along, Master Robbie. We don’t want to keep the car waiting.”

“Bye, Dad!” Robbie calls over his shoulder as he bounces down the steps, his little legs barely able to keep up with Ellis’s strides.

“Bye, Robbie,” I reply, my voice quieter now. I linger in the doorway, watching until the sleek black car pulls away, carrying my son toward another day at school. The sight leaves me feeling oddly hollow, as though some vital piece of the morning has gone with him.

For a moment, the house feels unbearably quiet. I turn back toward the kitchen, the faint aroma of breakfast still lingering in the air. Evelyn is bustling around, cleaning up with the practiced efficiency of someone who’s been running this kitchen for years.

“Mr. Wagner,” she says without looking up, her tone respectful but brisk. “Would you like me to pack a lunch for you today?”

“No, thank you,” I say, glancing at the spread still laid out on the table. My eyes land on a plate of French toast, golden and flaky. “Leave this out for a few minutes. I’m going to take some things.”

“For the office?” she asks, already reaching for a container.

“No. Do we have a tray?”

That earns me a glance, one brow slightly raised, but Evelyn wisely doesn’t comment.

She’s too professional for that, though I can almost hear the unspoken thoughts swirling in her head. Instead, she turns, opens a cupboard and hands me a tray, her lips pressed into a polite smile.

“Thank you,” I say, and she inclines her head, already returning to her work.

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