Your mother’s death hit him hard, he said.

Your father told you many such things since her passing two years ago — yet all felt like utter deceit, especially when he said he loved her like no other.

But how could he have?

How could he have loved her so, place her above all for so many years, only to replace her in such a short time span without it feeling like betrayal?

Was it really all it took? Two months before it felt right to move on? Or did he just never love her all that much?

It was a question that spewed from you in a fit of anger before you stormed off during an argument that spun out of hand — once your father announced his engagement to the woman that would soon become your stepmother.

“I loved your mum, kid.” Simon murmured, eyes softening as they settled on you, lips twisted into a frown on his weathered face.

He did. To hell and back. He’d watch the world burn if it gave him another chance with your mother.

But he needed to forget, rid himself of the grief that consumed him, give him a sense of calm within the storm that brewed in his mind since her passing.

“Believe me, nothing compares to the days I had her by my side. When we found we were expecting you.” He sighed, swallowing thickly at the thought of your mother. “But..”