Looking at Emmaline, he could see her face was calm, but he couldn't tell what she was thinking. The uncertainty was unbearable. Tears began to fill his eyes, blurring his vision, and he blinked them away, feeling the sting of each unshed tear. He felt so small in that mont, so utterly broken by the thought of what he'd done, of how much he'd failed her.
The mories of that ti flooded back—every mistake, every mont he had pushed her aside, all the tis his need for revenge had blinded him.
He felt an ache deep in his chest, a hollow emptiness that seed to swallow him whole. He wished, more than anything, that he could turn back ti and change it all, but he knew he couldn't. He was afraid of losing her all over again, of having no chance to make things right. His voice, so strong just monts before, now felt small and weak in his own ears.
He waited, hoping for a word, a sign, anything from her, feeling his heart break a little more with every second of silence that followed.
Thomas stood off to the side, his heart heavy with guilt as he listened to his father's apology. Each word his father spoke felt like a knife twisting in his gut. He had been there through it all, had seen what was happening, and yet he did nothing. He had stood by, silent and complicit, as his father's plan unfolded, watching as Emmaline was put in danger, and did nothing to stop it.
The weight of his inaction pressed down on him, and he felt ashad—ashad that he hadn't had the courage to speak up, to protect her when she needed it most.
He looked at Emmaline, seeing the calm on her face, but he knew she was hurting. He could see it in her eyes, the pain that lingered there, the pain that he had played a part in causing. His throat tightened as he thought about all the years that had passed, all the ti they had lost because he hadn't done the right thing. Read new chapters at m_v-l'e|-
He had been so focused on following his father, on trusting that his father knew what was best, that he never once considered the cost to Emmaline, or how deeply it would wound her.
Taking a deep breath, Thomas stepped forward, his legs feeling like lead. His voice was shaky, filled with a mixture of regret and sorrow. "Emmaline," he began, struggling to keep his composure, "I'm sorry. I should have done sothing. I should have said sothing… anything. I was wrong to stand by and let it happen.
I was a coward."
He paused, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I can't change what I did, or rather, what I didn't do. I should have fought for you, protected you. But I didn't, and I will always regret that. I hope one day you can forgive , but I understand if you can't. I just needed you to know how deeply sorry I am, how much I wish I had been stronger, braver, more like the brother you deserved."
His voice broke, and he swallowed hard, feeling the tears finally spill over. "I let you down. I know I did, and I'm so, so sorry, Emmaline. I hope… I hope sohow, soday, you can find it in your heart to forgive , even if I don't deserve it."
Thomas stood there, feeling the weight of his words hang in the air, his heart aching with the pain of his own failures. He looked at her, eyes filled with regret, hoping for a sign, any sign, that she could one day forgive him, even as he knew it would never undo the hurt he had caused.
Casey stood quietly, listening to his father and Tommy, his emotions churning inside him. He hadn't known the full story until recently, and the shock of it all still weighed heavily on him. Hearing his father's apology, the regret in his voice, only stirred up more complicated feelings. There was still anger—anger at the years he spent believing Emmy was dead, anger at being kept in the dark.
But now, there was also a sense of loss, a deep sadness for the sister he thought he'd never see again.
His eyes flicked to Emmy, trying to gauge her reaction. She looked composed, but he knew that didn't an she was fine. How could she be? The thought of what she had gone through, the danger she faced, and the life she had to leave behind tore at him. It was hard to fathom how much she had suffered, all because of choices that were made without her.
He felt helpless, wishing he could have been there for her, wishing he could sohow make up for all the lost ti and pain.
He then felt a tear slide down his cheek, but he didn't wipe it away. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to feel right now or how to make sense of everything. A part of him wanted to scream, to demand answers, to lash out. But he stayed still, knowing this wasn't the ti for that. All he knew was that he was here for Emmy, whatever she needed, however long it took.
He stayed silent, feeling the weight of the room, and the weight of the years they'd all lost, a heavy knot forming in his chest that wouldn't go away. He just wanted to be there for her, to do the things he wasn't able to do all those years ago.
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