Open Wounds | Captain Swan

45. Epilogue III: Excuse me?

"How old is she?" He asked, looking down to their feet on the floor, almost as if she was ashamed of needing to ask such a thing. He was internally screaming. His screams went through her like a physical knife. She felt it right under her rib cage. She felt her heart break.

"Four years and three months." He wasn't an idiot, reckless sometimes, yes, but he wasn't stupid. She could see the exact moment he had puzzled the pieces together. His eyes flew open as if someone had thrown a bucket full of water in his face and his brows pulled together in a frown, crinkling the skin between them.

"So, she-she's mine?" She answered him with a simple nod, gripping his hand, coalescing their limbs once again, like it was the only way to keep him anchored to the world around them. He could feel his heart thrumming against his chest, fast and frightened, as if it intended to break through the layers of his skin.

"And you-you didn't think of telling me that I have a daughter?!" His lips parted and he cleared his throat, wanting to say more, but successfully decided against it and regained control of his temper before the state of affairs could go even further downhill.

She kept staring at him, waiting for him to come back to his senses and apologize, practically begging him to take back his words in fact-not having the energy to have another argument with him. But he gave her no sign that indicated he had anything similar to that planned. Why was it suddenly so hard to read him? Was it because they had been isolated from each other for five whole years?

"Don't you dare go there, Killian." She warned him, but longed to scream at him until her throat hurt so much she was incapable of shouting. A scream caught in her throat but she couldn't force it out; it hovered there, silently choking and killing her. She felt as though she could prevent their stirring argument if she remained silent.

"You and I both know I wasn't the one who ignored all of the attempts I made to get in touch with you. I tried to call, text, email you, I even sent a fucking letter to you, Killian! But no, mister twat decided to just ignore me and move back to freaking America!" You may not have intentionally left me alone and pregnant, but it's your own damn fault that you only found out just now."

"Mummy?" Dany's voice echoed through the entirety silent house. "Why are shouting so loud?" For a moment she felt nothing but awakening relief that it would all be over, so she could run back to England and never say anything to him ever again-and then she felt Dany's messy blonde hair tickle her shoulder, snapping her out of her own little world.

She looked down to her daughter-their daughter-and sighed. Dany's head was resting on her shoulder, comparable to the way she had done countless times when she and Killian were sitting next to each other. She had closed her eyes again, worn out because of all the running and jumping she had done that day.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Dany, mummy didn't mean to." She pressed her lips to her daughter's forehead, closing her eyes for a fraction of a second, using that brief moment to contemplate their options. "Why don't you sit on the couch and watch another movie, so the grown ups can talk a bit more, okay?" It wasn't ideal, and Emma was almost certain Dany wood end up dozing off while the television proceeded to play yet another movie, but she needed to finish this conversation with Killian.

"I'm tired, mummy." Dany admitted, allowing a big yawn to slip past her lips. She could hear Dany was was fighting to keep her voice steady and above a whisper.

"Okay, then we can-uh-" She struggled to find another option, desperate to tell Killian what her heart truly desired-and had for the past five years-but what kind of mother was she if her daughter wasn't her priority?