Six months after our divorce, I received an unexpected call. What the doctor told me changed everything.

At the center of it all sat a development agreement worth nearly $940 million.

My pen hovered just inches above the signature line.

Suddenly, none of it seemed important.

“I’m sorry,” I finally managed to say. “Did you say my son?”

There was a brief silence on the other end.

Then the doctor answered carefully.

“Yes. His mother is Clover Sterling.”

My hand went still.

The conference room seemed to fade around me.

Clover.

My ex-wife.

The woman I hadn’t spoken to since our marriage ended six months earlier.

The woman I had spent half a year convincing myself had chosen a future that no longer included me.

And now a doctor was telling me she had just welcomed my son.

A son I hadn’t even known was coming.

I pushed my chair back from the table.

Only one question mattered.

“Is Clover all right?”

I didn’t ask about the contract.

I didn’t ask how this could possibly have happened without me knowing.