Now it carried something else.
Something almost sacred.
Family.
A word I’d never thought I could say without my guilt flaring in my chest.
Yet here it was. Louder than my demons. Louder than the past.
A celebration born from ash and mistakes.
And she, our little girl, was the loudest light of all.
That’s when I realized that there were many sinful things in life.
The promises we never meant to keep. The games we played. The lies we sharpened until they tasted sweet. The desires we buried deeply enough to forget until they crawled back, begging to be fed.
But when all of it came to the surface, when our sins breathed and spoke and stared us in the eye, there was only one thing left to ask for.
Mercy.
I’d found mine in my wife and daughter.
And I would burn in it, live in it, and drown in it.
Pour toujours.À la vie, à la mort.
THE END.
