Daddy Dearest

Chapter Seventy Five

BEN

The ticking of the grandfather clock reverberates through my study like the incessant pounding in my skull. I wince as it punctuates the silence, each tick a reminder of time slipping through my fingers.

"Ben," Waverly's voice drifts in from the hallway, and I draw a deep breath before responding. "Yes, darling?"

"Can we talk about what I just told you?" Her voice is laced with concern, but there's a hint of steel beneath the softness. I can't help but admire her strength, even as my mind reels from the recent revelations about Harry and Madi. The guardrails of my forgotten life tremble under the weight of these new memories.

"Of course, Waverly." I manage to keep my tone steady, despite the storm raging within me. She enters the room, her posture conveying both grace and authority – the perfect headmistress. Yet I know she's vulnerable too, her own guardrails straining beneath the burden of our shared history.

"Are you alright?" she asks, her green eyes searching mine for answers that elude me. Standing here, in this room filled with the remnants of my past – the leather-bound books, the well-worn armchair, the half-empty bottle of scotch I no longer dare touch – I feel like a stranger in my own home.

"Am I ever truly alright, my dear?" I quip, attempting to deflect her scrutiny with humour. My heart clenches at the flicker of pain in her eyes, and I hasten to add, "I'm coping, Waverly. Truly. It's just...a lot to process."

"Is it Melody you're worried about?" she ventures cautiously, making the invisible elephant in the room tangible. I flinch as her name sends a jolt of emotion surging through me – guilt, longing, confusion.

"Among other things," I admit, feeling the truth of my words settle heavy on my chest. "I can't make sense of it all, Waverly. My feelings for Melody...it's as if they're tangled up with my memories of Meredith."

"Ben," she says gently, her hand coming to rest on my arm, "you don't need to have all the answers right now. You're still healing, still remembering. It's okay to be confused."

"Is it?" I challenge, unable to quell the frustration simmering beneath my skin. "How am I supposed to be a better husband, a better father, when I can't even trust my own emotions?"

"By being present, Ben" she replies softly, her gaze unwavering. "By acknowledging your flaws and working to overcome them. By loving us, even when you don't understand why."

As I look into her eyes, I realise that she's right. I may be lost in a labyrinth of memories and unbidden feelings, but I'm not alone. I have Waverly at my side, my four beautiful children, and a determination to face my demons – even if it means braving the darkest corners of my mind.

"Thank you, Waverly," I murmur, my heart swelling with gratitude and love. The ticking of the grandfather clock no longer feels like a taunt; instead, it's a reminder that time is a gift, one I cannot squander. As I stand here, in this room filled with echoes of the man I once was, I know that I must fight to become the best version of myself – for my family, and for the man I hope to become once more.

***

I find myself pacing in my study, attempting to untangle the knotted web of my thoughts – the ever-present gnawing confusion about my feelings towards Melody and the ghost of Meredith that haunts me.

"Damn it all," I mutter, stopping in my tracks. My head throbs with a pain that feels as though someone has taken a hammer to my skull with the sole intention of fracturing it into tiny, jagged pieces. The sensation is not unfamiliar, but its intensity is overwhelming, causing me to clutch at my temples in an attempt to alleviate the pressure.