"What's with that look on your face?"
Damian Fairchild's Adam's apple bobbed. His voice grew thick, extremely hoarse. "Then what about me? How did the old me compare to them?"
Seraphina Quinn averted her gaze. Her voice was so faint it seemed to melt into the evening wind. "It's all in the past. If I held onto the past, you wouldn't have the chance to be standing here talking to me ever again."
Damian Fairchild understood.
The subtext of Seraphina Quinn's words was clear: as a husband and a father, he had utterly failed them.
Damian Fairchild's heart grew heavy with a torrent of complex emotions. He seemed to embody the deepening twilight, and the very air around him became oppressive.
He couldn't remember the past, nor his love for her, so he had no way of knowing just how terrible he had been to her.
He had wronged her! He owed her! But he had no idea where to begin to make things right.
He loathed his past self!
