On the plane, the billionaire spotted his former girlfriend a few rows ahead, sitting with two twin children — and both kids bore an uncanny resemblance to him.
Advait Roy, a self-made billionaire in his thirties, rarely traveled on commercial flights. But today was an exception. A last-minute technical issue grounded his private jet, forcing him to accept a first-class seat to ensure he wouldn’t miss the opening keynote at an international tech conference.
Advait cared little for comfort — champagne, spacious seats, serene cabin — but he disliked sharing even limited space with strangers. Settling into seat 2A, he opened his laptop and finalized his notes. Just as the doors were closing, a late passenger caught his eye.
A woman entered, holding a designer diaper bag, calm yet slightly nervous. Her long black hair and poised, graceful demeanor stirred memories Advait had long buried.
It couldn’t be… but it was.
Ishita Mehra.
His former girlfriend, who had disappeared from his life five years ago without a word.
Before he could process her presence, two small children — about four years old — followed behind her. One held her hand, the other clutched a teddy bear. They were identical twins and, shockingly, looked just like him.
Advait’s heart raced.
Ishita took seat 2B, directly next to him, completely unaware of his presence, busy tending to the children as they climbed into 2C and 2D.
It wasn’t until the plane was taxiing that their eyes met. Time seemed to stop.
“Advait?” she whispered.
He blinked. “Ishita… I… didn’t expect you here.”
Her presence, and the children, overwhelmed him. Same dark hair. Same eyes. Same dimple on the left cheek. Same little habits when nervous — habits Advait himself had as a child.
“We need to talk,” he said.
Ishita nodded, cautious and guarded.
Once the plane was airborne and the twins had dozed off watching cartoons, Advait leaned closer.
“They’re mine?” The words weren’t a question.
Ishita exhaled slowly. “Yes.”
A storm of emotions hit him: shock, betrayal, confusion — and, amid it all, awe.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he demanded.
Ishita pursed her lips. “Because you had already made your choice, Advait…”
“You were pregnant when I spoke about my career change, and you knew I had no time for… children or family responsibilities. You left anyway,” she said, her voice tinged with bitterness.
Advait almost shouted but restrained himself. “I said I wasn’t ready then! I never said I’d never be ready! And… you were pregnant? You knew?”
She looked away, staring at the empty sky. “I tried to tell you. That night, you were celebrating funding for your new company. You were so absorbed in your ambitions that you barely noticed me. When I tried to speak, you brushed it off and gave me a gift, calling it a symbol of our ‘future’ — which you had already discarded in your mind.”
He remembered that night. His ambition had built a wall, and Ishita had been left outside it.
“Why did you disappear without a trace, without a word?” His voice cracked.
“You had only one passion then: building Advait Roy’s empire. You weren’t ready to be a father, and I didn’t want to burden you. I wanted my children to have a father who wanted them, not someone who saw them as an obstacle,” Ishita’s voice was sharp now. “I thought raising them alone, away from someone who might never embrace them, was the only way.”
Advait shook his head slowly. “These are my copies. How could you think that way?” His hands gestured wildly in despair. “I’m seeing them for the first time, and I’ve missed four years! Birthdays, first words, first steps… how could you take all that from me?”
Tears welled in Ishita’s eyes. “You had already left me, Advait. I only physically removed myself. I gave you the freedom you wanted. I knew once you saw them, you’d love them, but I feared you’d be a father too busy with your empire to truly be there. I wanted to give them a full life.”
“Tell me their names,” he whispered.
Ishita glanced at the sleeping twins. “That’s Ayaan,” she said, pointing to the boy in 2C, “and Aryan.”
Advait gripped the armrest. Names starting with ‘A,’ like him. These children were part of his DNA, his very existence — and he was only seeing them now.
“I made a terrible mistake,” he said, his voice hardening. “But you can’t expect me to sit back. I am a billionaire. I can change your lives forever. I won’t let you run away again. I will give them my name.”
Ishita laughed, a small, bitter sound. “They have Mehra. That’s enough. I am raising them. I’m not selling my children to you.”
The space between them was barely the length of a cocktail napkin, but their world had shifted — five years of silence, deceit, and now two innocent children had changed everything.
“Where are you going now?” Advait asked.
“I’m taking them to my parents’ place,” Ishita said firmly, focusing on the kids.
Advait’s security team discreetly tracked their movements. A private car awaited, and he personally ensured the twins were safely seated.
Aryan, curious, asked, “Uncle, are you very rich?”
Advait smiled. “Yes, very rich.”
Ayaan asked, “Do you have lots of chocolates?”
Advait chuckled. “I have all the chocolate in the world — whatever you want.”
Ishita remained silent, caught between anger and fear. Advait, calm now, had regained control.
Once settled, he presented a temporary agreement to Ishita: a trust fund of millions for Ayaan and Aryan, full responsibility for their education, health, and future, and guaranteed regular weekends.
“You cannot keep them out of my life,” he said. “This is not charity. This is my duty.”
Over the following weeks, Advait’s priorities shifted dramatically.
Time with family: He cut down international business trips, ensuring meetings never ran past 5 PM. Every Tuesday evening, he took Ayaan and Aryan to the park.
Investments: He poured into education and child-care tech.
Home: He purchased a luxurious apartment for Ishita and the twins, living nearby himself.
Relationship repair: Ishita remained wary but watched him evolve into a patient, dedicated father, reading bedtime stories and answering endless questions.
One Saturday night, Ishita visited their apartment. Advait, watching her, admitted:
“I’ve chased only money all my life. Now I realize I almost lost what is truly priceless. These children made me a man, Ishita. I am no longer just a billionaire.”
The old distrust began to dissolve. A new, complex bond emerged — one grounded in love, trust, and two precious children who had brought them back together.