The Day Our Promise Breaks

Chapter 665

Charles thought he was ready for this.

From the moment he decided to let Charlie undergo hypnosis, he'd known that when she remembered everything, she'd never forgive him. He'd pictured this confrontation a hundred times, but actually facing his daughter's open resentment and rejection was a whole different kind of pain—one that squeezed his heart till he could barely breathe.

Once upon a time, Charlie had adored him. She used to look up at him with eyes full of pure, unfiltered love.

He'd be lying if he said he hadn't secretly hoped for a miracle. That even if Charlie remembered, even if she was hurt, maybe just maybe her love would be enough to give him a chance to fix what he'd broken.

But that was just wishful thinking.

"Charlie, I'm sorry. Daddy-" His voice was hoarse and shaky, every word heavy with helplessness and pleading.

He tried to apologize, but Charlie, eyes rimmed red and brimming with tears, cut him off before he could finish. She shook her head, her voice breaking as she sobbed, "You're not my daddy. You're Sandy's daddy."

Each word hit Charles like a shard of ice, sharp and cruel, cutting straight into his chest.

Charlie pressed her lips together, fighting to hold back even more tears.

He didn't love her.

He only loved Sandy.

anything Charlie said-always

comforted Sandy, always called

there was only ever Sandy. Charlie had

her, washing over her small

him go. I don't want a

,

into Evelyn's arms, her little body shaking with sobs as she buried

soaked through Evelyn's shirt, leaving a wet patch that stung

time Charles broke his promise the day he rented out the whole amusement

memory was a knife to the heart. It had shattered

park, the years of Charles's neglect, the endless times he favored Dahlia and Sandy over them. Each memory was

Evelyn could do was hold her daughter tighter, as if she could pull her into herself and keep

gently stroked Charlie's trembling back, then looked up at Charles, her eyes cold and

only watch as Charlie sobbed in Evelyn's arms, her whole

felt like his heart was being slowly sliced

his arms, to beg for forgiveness,

of his wheelchair so tightly his knuckles turged White. He didn't ever

then shut, then parted again. His Adam's apple bobbed as he struggled to speak—just one word of

every word got