#Chapter 93: Regrets

Edrick

I was passing by Ella’s room when I overheard Moana and Ella talking, and my heart sank a little when I heard Ella’s question.

“Um… Do you think that you and my daddy really will get married one day?” she asked, no doubt because of the children at the orphanage thinking that Moana and I were engaged.

There was a long pause; I almost considered going in there and talking to Ella myself as I wasn’t quite sure how well Moana would handle it, especially after how upset she’d been that morning, but it turned out that I didn’t need to.

“Sometimes things just don’t work out that way,” Moana finally replied. Her voice was soft and gentle.

“Well… Why not?” Ella asked. “In all of my fairytales and princess movies, the boy and the girl always fall in love and get married and live happily ever after.”

Another pause.

“Real life just isn’t always like your fairytales or princess movies,” Moana said after several long moments. “But that’s okay. I promise that we’ll all still have our happily ever after… It’ll just be a little bit different.”

I was a bit taken aback by how well Moana handled the situation. It warmed my heart, honestly, to hear how sweetly she spoke to Ella. She could have easily said something sarcastic or backhanded because of how angry she was with me for what happened that morning, but she didn’t tarnish my daughter’s perception of me. Honestly, did I even deserve that? Sometimes I wondered if Ella should know that her father was… Not the man she thought I was. I couldn’t help but wonder, either, if Ella would always feel a little bitter about my relationship with Moana; especially if she ever found out that her mother wasn’t actually dead.

in the room followed by the sound of

face grim and

was just coming to

now’s your chance.” She then stepped out of my way, avoiding my gaze, and headed toward her room — but I couldn’t contain my frustration any longer, and

behind her as she opened her bedroom door, “I’d like

at the same time I felt as though I had a right to explain myself. She got some seriously wrong ideas about me that

followed and closed the door behind us. “What is it?” she asked as she folded her

to push my

about me this morning that I need to

perfume, then? Or am I not allowed to ask or care,

all, I’m sorry that I fell asleep like that on the couch,” I said. “I had a drink at the bar, and then I finished off that whiskey bottle when I got home, but I was only exhausted… Not drunk.” I really wasn’t drunk that

her frown deepening. I watched her for a moment as she glared up at me. As I stood in front of her, even from a bit of a distance, I realized how small she was despite the air of indignant confidence she was trying to put across. She almost seemed to be unintentionally making herself smaller with her stance and her

stared down at the floor. Admittedly,

“At the bar. I came close, but… I couldn’t do it. I decided against

her arms folded across her chest and now had them hung at her sides, where she was clenching and unclenching her fists. Whether it was out of anger, frustration, hurt, or

been solid and even-toned before, now sounded small and almost childlike. Even in the dim light of her room, I could see

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