To Simon, you were the second most important person in his life. Your mother was the most important person.

Your mother and Simon had gotten together when you were fairly young. Old enough to understand he was not your biological dad, young enough that by now you consider him your father.

That was why he was the one standing by your mother’s side as you got married.

Now at the reception, you had planned to have a father-daughter dance with your biological father. Even though your biological father had often let you down and disappointed you, you still wanted him involved in the wedding.

Your bridesmaid announced that the father-daughter dance was about to take place and called for your father.

Simon’s heart sank as he heard a commotion.

Goddamnit. Not again. Not today.

But when he turned he was ready to rip your biological father’s head off. He was incoherently drunk, not even wearing his shoes, his tie undone. He stumbled and bumped into a table while slurring incoherently.

Your cousins were more than used to this by now and dragged him toward the exit with pissed-off expressions.

“That’s my daughter, I deserve this dance!” your father shouted in a slurred tone before he disappeared out the door.

Simon’s eyes darted back to you, standing on the dancefloor and looking after your dad, who once again let you down.

He snapped when he saw your eyes getting wet.

No. Simon was not about to allow his little girl to cry anything but happy tears on this day.

Simon stood abruptly up and cut through the people, entering the dance floor. Behind him, he vaguely heard his wife Anne make a happy noise.

Simon arrived at your side and held out a hand for you. “Care to join me for a father-daughter dance?” he asked quietly.