We close Elena's door and stand in the hallway. I can feel Isabella watching me.
"Are you okay with all that?" she asks quietly.
"She called me Daddy."
"I'm sorry. I've tried to explain that you're not her father, but she's three. She doesn't really understand—"
"There’s no need to apologize. I don't mind."
She goes quiet. "You don't?"
"No." I turn to face her. "I know I'm not her father. I know Draco was. But..." I struggle for the words. "Is it wrong that I want to be? That I wish I was her real father?"
Isabella's eyes fill with tears. "No. It's not wrong."
"Even though I killed him?"
She steps closer, taking my hands. "Draco was her biological father. But he was never going to be her daddy. Not really. He would have hurt her eventually. Broken her the way he broke me."
"And you think I won't?"
"I know you won't." She says it with such certainty. "Because you're a good man. Whatever you were before, whoever you were—right now, you're a good man. You're good to her. Good to me. You work yourself to exhaustion to provide for us. You protect us. You—" Her voice breaks. "You're everything I ever wanted for her. For us."
I pull her into my arms, holding her tight. "I don't deserve you. Either of you."
"Yes, you do."
We stand there for a long moment. Then she pulls back, looking up at me with those warm brown eyes.
"Come to bed," she says.
"In a minute. I need to..." I gesture vaguely. "Process all this and what it means."
She nods, understanding, and goes to our room. When did it become our room?
I check the locks on the doors. Check the windows. An old habit that I can't shake. Making sure we're secure. Making sure nothing can get in.
Then I stand in the dark kitchen, looking out at the farm bathed in moonlight.
I have a family now. A home. A life.
It's built on lies and violence and a body at the bottom of a ravine.
But it's mine. Just like they’re mine.
And I'll do whatever it takes to keep them.
Even if that means staying in the dark about who I really am. Even if that means never remembering my past. Maybe some things are better forgetting.
I turn off the lights and head to the bedroom. Isabella is already in bed, waiting for me. I undress and slide in beside her, and she immediately curves into me, her head on my chest.
"Did you have a good day?" she murmurs.
"The best."
"Even with Elena calling you Daddy?"
"Especially because of that."
