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Brahms: Really, you’re going to make small talk about my injuries?
Sephie: You’re the one who left without saying goodbye.
Ah, so she’s actually upset about my abrupt departure. Though, we did make sure that the center had a healthy cash flow and Seraphina and the kids had all they needed—including Lucius’s services.
Brahms: I did it to avoid a confrontation. You do realize what you did to me, right? I’m a father, and you never told me.
Okay, maybe I shouldn’t have drop that bomb so fast, but I’m fucking upset about it.
Sephie: I reached out, Brahms. Numerous times. But Roger . . . he was adamant it was best you were kept distant.
My chest tightens, the walls seeming to close in on me. It’s a sensation of drowning in my own emotions—anger, betrayal, regret.
Brahms: You should’ve tried harder. A single word from you would’ve brought me rushing back to you, no questions asked.
I can feel my heart pounding, the blood rushing in my ears. The anger is overwhelming, but beneath it is a sadness, a longing for all the missed moments—for missing her.
Sephie: I fucking tried, Brahms. Even when . . .
The unfinished sentence leaves a heavy silence, making me wonder about the depth of pain she’s been through.
Sephie: How did you find out about them?
Brahms: We’re not discussing them via text.
Sephie: I tried to reach out.
Her words bring a sting of bitterness. She tried?
Brahms: You didn’t try hard enough, and again, I’m not having this discussion via text.
Sephie: I told Roger several times.
I clench my fist, feeling a rush of anger at Roger for keeping this from me.
Brahms: I heard—still it wasn’t enough. And yet, I understand that you’re protecting them from an unstable drunk father. I don’t like it, but somehow, I get it. The situation is familiar, you know? This is why Zane, and of course my family tried to keep you away from your father—why you were sent to boarding school.
Sephie: My father wasn’t that bad.
Brahms: Let me know when you’re ready for the truth.
Sephie: You’re not going to try to take them away from me, are you?
I pause, searching for the right words before I type.
Brahms: I would never hurt you, Seraphina. But I want to be a part of their life. I’m working on myself for me. So I can have a future with them. I hope you make this easy for everyone.
Sephie: What does that mean?
The weight of what I’m about to say settles heavily in my chest.
Brahms: I want us to be a family—we’ll co-parent and somehow raise two happy children.
Sephie: Is that possible?
Brahms: Yes, it’s not like I’m asking you to forgive me and love me again. My only request is to let me be a father to my children and share responsibilities. But we can talk more about it later.
Sephie: I don’t know if they’re ready.
