Whispers in the rain | charles leclerc *ੈ✩

Part 2 🩵 : Chapter 26 : Guilty as sin?

Charles❤️
I sat there, listening to Jules speak about Bella—our daughter.

The words washed over me like a slow, painful wave, each one hitting harder than the last.

She had been growing up this whole time, and I hadn't even known.

I hadn't been there to see her first steps, to hear her first words, to hold her when she cried. And all of that was my fault.

I could barely breathe as Jules talked.

But still, I sat there, desperate for every word, holding on to each one like a lifeline.

She was beautiful. She was smart. She had my eyes.

The eyes that had once looked at Jules with so much love, now reflected in a little girl I hadn't even known existed.

"Her middle name," I whispered. I swallowed hard, fighting back the tears that were threatening to spill over.

Jules turned to me, "What?"

I looked at her, "Her middle name..."

She nodded, "Hervé," she said softly.

Hervé. My father's name.

The name of the man who had shaped so much of my life. The man who had taught me everything. I felt like I'd been punched in the gut. It hit me so hard I couldn't speak for a second.

Jules had given her our daughter his name. Even after everything, she had still honored him. Even when I had walked away, when I had left her behind, she had chosen that name.

I didn't even realize I was crying until I felt the warmth of it against my skin.

I wiped at it quickly, but it was useless.

More came.

I could hardly breathe, but I had to say it.

I had to ask her.

"I want to be part of her life," I said, my voice trembling as I spoke.

Jules didn't look at me right away.

Her eyes stayed fixed on the floor, her fingers fidgeting with the thread she'd used to stitch me up.

"I need to be part of her life, Jules. Please."

She finally looked up, her eyes meeting mine. I could see the storm brewing behind them—the hurt, the anger, the resentment. And she had every right to feel all of it. I knew that. But still, I had to ask.

"You don't just get to say that, Charles," she said, her voice sharp. "You don't get to show up after seven years and ask to be a father now."

"I know," I whispered, "I know I don't deserve it. I know I should have been there. But I wasn't, and I can't change that. But I want to try, Jules. I need to try."

She stood up from the couch, pacing the room.
Her hands ran through her hair, "Do you have any idea what it was like, Charles? Raising her on my own?"

"I'm sorry," I said, my voice breaking again. "I'm so, so sorry."

"Sorry doesn't fix it!" she snapped, "Sorry doesn't make up for the years you missed, for the birthdays you weren't there for, for the days when we needed someone when I needed someone!"

"I know I can't fix it," I said, "I know I can't go back and change the past, but I want to be there now. I want to be her father now, Jules. Please."

She stared at me, her eyes flickering with something I couldn't quite place.