Chapter 32 INNOCENT QUESTIONS (1)
WILLA’S POV
I pretend I didn’t see the way Grandpa’s ears perked up in full attention as soon as Gillian’s question was out in the air.
William let out a tiny, ‘oh,’ and his piercing gaze burned the side of my face as I stared at my children with a small smile frozen in place.
The hopeful look both Calisto and Gillian wore but tried to dim down caused an unbearable constricting feeling in my chest, as if my heart and lungs were being held in an unforgiving vice grip.
I blinked a few times as I took a deep inhale through my nose. Then after releasing my breath, I beckoned my children to come over to me.
They obediently did so without any fuss, leaving behind Grandpa, who was still in his wolf form.
“Listen to me carefully,” I said as soon as the two were standing in front of me. I gently placed a hand on their shoulder and gave them the most assuring smile I could at the moment. “The parental blood link will not magically make you meet your father.”
The hope vanished from their faces like a candle snuffed out by a strong gust of wind, and a painful pang struck me harder than I could bear.
It was one thing to disappoint my parents, but it was a whole different league when I disappointed my own children.
Still, despite the tightening in my chest and the uncomfortable knot in my stomach, I carried on. “But! But you will feel him. You will feel that he’s there. That he exists. You will feel that you are connected to him. And he… He will feel you too. He will know that he has two beautiful children.”
Calisto bit his lower lip as a thin layer of tears glossed over his wide, round eyes. “If he knows about us, won’t he… Won’t he look for us?”
“Oh, Cal,” I murmured, petting his cheek. “Your father… He’s… He’s a complicated man, and someday, you will understand why he’s not here with us.”
“But who is he, Mommy?” Gillian asked. She, too, was holding back tears, and when she continued to speak, her voice cracked and quivered. “W-why is he not h-here with us? Why is it only the three of us? Cal and Gil wanted to know, b-but… but we know you will get sad if we ask.”
My brows furrowed while my eyes misted with my own salty tears upon hearing what Gillian had said, and all I could say in response was a small “What?”
“You get sad, Mommy,” Calisto answered quietly, snuggling his cheek against the palm of my hand.
“That’s right, Mommy,” Gillian chimed in, taking my hand on her shoulder and holding it in between her small hands. She sniffled a little and valiantly tried to keep her voice steady as she explained, “W-we know you get sad. You always look sad when you read us a story before bed and, and a daddy is mentioned. You get sad, Mommy. We see it.”
My heart was close to bursting at the seams, and I could barely hold back my own tears.
Calisto had always shown how he possessed a sensitive soul, while Gillian had made undeniable displays of her intellect. But I hadn’t considered that their strength would make them incredibly perceptive. Probably even more than other kids, seeing how they even pieced together a possible reason for the sadness they could detect in me.
Or maybe… Maybe I hadn’t completely ceased wearing my heart in my sleeve. Maybe I wasn't really doing a great job in hiding my emotions.
Either way, a wave of shame surged and barreled into me.
How could I have let my kids see my lingering sadness over Gallahan and what we could’ve been with the twins? How could I have missed the signs that they were simply holding themselves back from asking just for my sake?
I had been so wrapped around my own thoughts and emotions—from the stubborn yearning that lingered, up until my fears that plagued me over the possibility of Gallahan finding out about us—that I didn’t even notice nor realize what was happening.
The twins were relentless machines of questions, and yet I considered it a boon that they hadn’t even wondered about their father.
Fuck.
Guilt gnawed at me, thinking of how I was depriving them of the chance to at least know their father by name and by stories.
They must’ve been endlessly curious, but I unknowingly made them keep their thoughts and questions to themselves.
Their act of restraint and consideration for my feelings was such a great display of maturity for their age, and I couldn’t stop the pride and rush of affection that began to whirl with my guilt and shame.