The Day Our Promise Breaks

Chapter 242

"No need. Charlie was already laid to rest a while ago." Charles' voice was hoarse with a heavy heart. Just mentioning it made his chest tighten painfully. "And I, her father, only found out yesterday..." He choked up. "I failed Charlie!" His eyes welled with tears again.

Last night, he knelt by Charlie's grave, whispering apologies over and over. But what good was it? Charlie was gone, and he could never make things right with

her.

Dahlia, seeing Charles' anguish, sat beside him on the hospital bed. She took his hand gently, her own eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Charles, you have to let yourself grieve," she said softly. "I know losing Charlie is tearing you apart, but she loved you so much. She wouldn't want you to torture yourself like this. It would break her heart."

"Charlie wouldn't be heartbroken; she'd blame me and hate me." Charles' voice cracked, his eyes stinging with emotion. They say men don't cry easily, but the loss of his daughter cut him deeply.

"No, how could Charlie ever blame or hate you? You didn't visit her grave because you didn't know..." Dahlia insisted, trying to console him.

guilt he couldn't shake, a thorn deep in his heart. "The day I went to make up for missing her birthday, Eve

I didn't believe her." If he'd believed Evelyn sooner, he wouldn't have discovered the

him several times. He saw the calls but ignored them, thinking she was upset about him

was fine and there'd be more chances to be with her. Sandy's condition was worsening, and they were preparing for surgery. Dahlia had tearfully said it might be Sandy's last birthday.

He would've found the best doctors and a matching kidney... But life doesn't offer do-overs. He raised his hand to his eyes, and tears slipped through his

don't beat

ret

to reassure him. "You didn't believe Evelyn because you thought she'd drugged you years ago. Ignorance isn't

words were kind, they couldn't ease Charles' guilt.

morning, Charles

head was still bandaged from Evelyn's attack. Her blow had been fierce; if it hadn't been a vase but something sturdier, it could've killed him. The thought left a bitter taste in