PART 3:

” Charlotte laughed without humor. “For how long, Jackson? A week? A month? Until the next billion-dollar opportunity comes along?” She ran her hands through her hair, a gesture of frustration he remembered well. The twins need consistency. They need a father who’s actually present. Before Jackson could respond, a cry came through the baby monitor.

Charlotte closed her eyes briefly. “Your son has your timing,” she said, rising wearily. “Let me,” Jackson offered, but the uncertainty in his eyes was obvious. “Have you ever changed a diaper, Jackson?” Charlotte asked, already heading toward the stairs. He hadn’t, of course, and they both knew it. Another stark reminder of how unprepared he was for fatherhood, how much he had to learn.

When Charlotte returned with a freshly changed and still fussing Ethan, Jackson was walking Abigail around the kitchen, awkwardly patting her back as she began to whimper. “They’re hungry,” Charlotte explained, taking Abigail from him and settling on the couch with practiced ease.

She positioned both babies for feeding, a feat of multitasking that left Jackson in awe. “How do you do this alone?” he asked, the full weight of her daily reality finally hitting him. “I hired a night nurse for the first month,” Charlotte replied. “Your money is good for something, but she left last week and I haven’t had more than three consecutive hours of sleep since.

” Jackson watched her with their children, her exhaustion evident but her tenderness unwavering. He thought of his pristine penthouse, his private jet, his corner office with views of the harbor, all the trappings of success that suddenly seemed hollow. “Move in with me,” he blurted out. “The penthouse has plenty of room.

” “No,” Charlotte cut him off firmly. “This is their home. This is where they feel secure.” “Then I’ll move in here,” Jackson countered, surprising himself with how easily the solution came. “I’ll convert the home office into a nursery for Ethan. The guest room can be mine.” Charlotte stared at him, clearly shocked by the offer.

“You can’t just upend your life like that. You have a company to run.” “I have children to raise,” Jackson replied, the words feeling right as they left his mouth. “And Diane can handle the day-to-day operations for a while.” “Until when?” Charlotte challenged, shifting Abigail slightly. “Until you get bored with 3:00 a.m. feedings and endless diaper changes? Until you realize that building sandcastles with toddlers doesn’t give you the same rush as closing a multi-million dollar deal?” Her words cut deep because the fear behind them was justified. Jackson had

never shown himself to be anything but ambitious, driven by the next goal, the next acquisition, the next milestone. “I don’t know how to prove to you that I’ve changed,” he admitted, “but I know that seeing them, seeing what I nearly threw away, has changed something fundamental in me.

” A tense silence fell between them, broken only by the soft sounds of the twins. Finally, Charlotte spoke, her voice tired but resolute. “You can stay in the guest room for 2 weeks,” she said. “No assistants, no housekeepers, no escaping to the office when things get hard. Just you, me, and two infants who don’t care about your net worth.” “Thank you,” Jackson said, relief washing over him.

It was a test, and they both knew it. A chance to prove that the man who had built an empire could learn to build something far more precious. “Don’t thank me yet,” Charlotte warned, a hint of her old humor breaking through. “You haven’t experienced their synchronized midnight screaming sessions.” For the first time in what felt like years, Jackson smiled a genuine smile.

“I faced hostile takeovers and market crashes. How bad can it be?” Charlotte’s answering laugh told him everything he needed to know about the challenge ahead. And strangely, Jackson Reed found himself more eager for this challenge than any business venture he’d ever pursued. By the end of his first week living in the guest room, Jackson Reed had discovered humility in ways his Ivy League education and meteoric business rise had never taught him.

His custom suits hung untouched in the closet, replaced by jeans and t-shirts perpetually spotted with spit-up. His precisely scheduled days had dissolved into the chaotic rhythm of infant needs. His hands, once occupied with signing contracts and shaking on deals, now changed diapers, prepared bottles, and rocked babies with increasing confidence.

The twins were teaching him what truly mattered, one sleepless night, one tiny smile, one peaceful moment at a time. “You’re getting pretty good at that,” Charlotte commented as she entered the nursery where Jackson was successfully changing Ethan’s diaper, a task that had once seemed more daunting than negotiating with Chinese investors.

Jackson secured the diaper with a triumphant smile. “I’ve always been a quick study. Charlotte leaned against the doorframe watching him with an expression he couldn’t quite read. Over the past week, the ice between them had begun to thaw, giving way to a cautious warmth. They moved around each other with growing ease, partners in the overwhelming job of caring for two infants, if not yet partners in the way they once had been.

“The Jackson Reed I knew would never have believed this scene,” Charlotte said, a hint of wonder in her voice. “Fortune 500’s most ruthless CEO singing lullabies at 3:00 in the morning.” Jackson winced at the magazine title he’d once worn as a badge of honor. “I’m learning there are more important metrics for success.

” Later that evening, after the twins were asleep, momentarily at least, Jackson and Charlotte sat at the kitchen table with mugs of tea, the closest thing to a break they’d had all day. Charlotte scrolled through her phone while Jackson reviewed emails on his tablet, though with significantly less urgency than he once would have.

“Your board is getting restless,” Charlotte noted, holding up her phone to show a business news headline. “Horizon stock dips as Reed’s extended absence raises questions.” Jackson sighed, setting down his tablet. “Martin’s been calling daily, so has Diane.” “The Berlin deal is stalling without my direct involvement.

” “And?” Charlotte prompted, studying him carefully. “And they’ll have to wait,” Jackson replied firmly. “The Berlin acquisition will still be there in a few weeks. These moments with the twins won’t.” Charlotte’s expression softened slightly. “You surprise me, Jackson. I didn’t think you could step away from Horizon, even temporarily.

” “Neither did I,” he admitted. “But holding them that first day in the courthouse, it was like seeing in color after years of black and white.” He met her gaze directly. “I built Horizon thinking it was what would define my life. I was wrong.” The moment stretched between them, fragile and hopeful, until Charlotte’s phone rang.

She glanced at the screen and frowned. “It’s Dr. Winters,” she said, referring to the twins’ pediatrician. “At this hour?” Jackson felt a flicker of worry as she answered. Charlotte’s expression grew serious as she listened, occasionally asking questions. When she hung up, her face was pale. “What is it?” Jackson asked, immediately alert.

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