So I walked away. It was easier to live with hope than to face the truth. And she was the most brutal truth I had to face.
I made my choice.
I swallowed the words I never said.
A year later
January brings snow, covering the Ozark woods in a pale white sheet. People forget. Tragedy fades here, buried under weather and routine.
But I didn’t forget.
Regret lives with me every day.
I walk slowly through the cemetery. Snow crunches softly beneath my boots. It’s the only thing I hear, except for the tiny breaths she takes against my chest.
I think we are the only ones still alive among the dead.
If I remember correctly, her grave is near the small church on the right side of the grounds. The path feels longer than it should, but eventually I find it.
Emily Beckett.
The name is carved into cold stone.
I lower her gently to the ground. Her small hands reach out, touching the surface of the stone. She smiles, curious, dragging her palm along the letters until the cold bites her skin. She pulls her hand back and lifts it into the air, showing me how it stings.
I smile.
“Emma,” I whisper. “Does it hurt?”
I kiss her tiny fingers.
She nods.
I lift her back into my arms. She settles against my chest, and a tear slips down my cheek.
“I came to say goodbye,” I say at last. “I wanted you to meet Emma.” A quiet laugh breaks through. “I wanted to tell you I failed to be the man you deserved. But I wanted to promise I’ll be the dad she deserves.”
I rehearsed these words all night, repeating them in my head until they felt real. But standing here, staring at her name, every sentence drains away.
“I don’t remember what I wanted to say,” I murmured with a sigh.
I take a breath.
Emma slaps my cheeks gently. Her small fingers are cold, and a daisy is clenched between them.
“I guess I wanted to say you were right,” I said softly. “Even monsters like me deserve a second chance. Not to live a better life, but to fix the mistakes I’ve made.”
I lean down and kiss Emma’s forehead.
“She taught me what love means,” I say quietly. I smile, but it hurts. “She taught me that I was loving you too.” My voice shakes. “And I forgive you. Not because you did something wrong, just so you can move on.”
The words catch in my throat. I swallow hard.
“And I am sorry,” I whisper. “If I had a time machine, I would change everything. But knowing you, you are the only person who ever made me believe time was valuable.” My eyes burn. “And now, seeing Emma, seeing how fast she’s growing, I know time is something we don’t have.”
I look at her again. At her blonde hair. At her jade green eyes.
“She’s ours,” I say.
