My Blind Husband

Sunlight danced across the gold–trimmed furniture of the luxurious suite, catching in the golden strands of Serafina’s hair as Beckham patiently combed them. “Come on, I want Pigtails, Grandpa!”

Her voice was as bright as the diamonds on her tiny fingers, “Pigtails are so cute! Mommy and Daddy will love them!”

But before Beckham could agree, a small voice cut in, a hint of disapproval lacing in its childish tone. “Not yet, Sera,”

Soren said, his brow furrowed. “He’s not our Daddy… yet. Calling him that now might make him a bit too full of himself.”

Serafina’s face fell, her bottom lip trembling. “But he is! Grandpa said so, he even guaranteed!”

Beckham smiled, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Exactly what I was thinking.”

Serafine spun towards Soren, her eyes, like dark jewels, locking on his. “Look in the mirror, mister! You’re practically Daddy’s twin! If he’s not our Daddy, then who is?”

didn’t say he isn’t,” he mumbled, “just… maybe let’s hold off on the official announcement, okay?”

“Whether early

around, eyes sparkling. “Grandpa! Why’re you brushing my hair? Sera never knew that

at the girl’s reflection in the mirror. A pang of nostalgia tugged at him. Back then, when Cherise was this young, she was still a mountain girl, running barefoot through the fields. And he, as her father,

Gwenn was

was like a lifeline

into Gwenn, raising her into someone independent and

bong with Gwenn that he convinced himself blood didn’t matter,

didn’t realize, in cherishing Gwenn, that he’d unintentionally neglected his real daughter. And now, as he gently

never brushed your mom’s hair when she was little. The