Serena
"I can't," I said immediately.
He raised an eyebrow. "Can't?"
"I don't think I can go through that again," I said. "Not after everything I've already gone through."
"There's no need to rush," he said gently. "But you would have to eventually."
I looked up at him. "Why?"
He sighed. "Because I won't always be here."
"Don't say things like that, Father," I said sharply.
He held up his hand. "I'm not saying it to scare you. I'm saying it because it's true."
"You're fine," I insisted. "You're healthy. You're strong."
He smiled sadly. "Strong men still grow old."
I swallowed. "I don't want to think about that."
"I know," he said. "But I do. Every day."
Silence stretched between us.
Finally, I said, "Marriage isn't a guarantee of happiness."
"No," he agreed. "But neither is loneliness."
"I'm not lonely," I said.
He looked at me. "You're not the same either."
I looked away.
"You loved him," my father said quietly.
I didn't deny it. "I did."
