Her heart twisted painfully.
"But then," he said, his voice breaking, "I saw the fire in your eyes. The strength in your spine. I saw you tear down those two people who hurt you.”
He swallowed hard.
"And, Aisling...I was so damn proud of you. Watching you that day made me feel so proud of the woman you had become. It reminded me of Maeve. And it gut-wrenched me that I couldn’t tell you. But it wasn’t the right time.”
Her breath caught.
"You didn’t need saving," Patrick said, eyes shining. "You weren’t broken. You were fierce. You were magnificent. And I realized...it wasn’t about me. That day wasyours.It wasn’t the moment to burden you with my failures."
She could see the sheen of unshed tears in his eyes.
"You are everything your mother dreamed you'd be," he said hoarsely. "And more."
The lump in her throat was unbearable. She turned away, blinking furiously, but it was no use. A tear slid down her cheek, betraying her.
"I’m sorry," he whispered. "I'm so sorry. What started as a summer love affair, turned into a love that destroyed me as a man. If I had known about you, I would have been a father to you. Nothing would have stopped me from being in your life.”
For a long, agonizing moment, neither of them moved.
Finally, Aisling found her voice, ragged and raw.
"I don't know if I can forgive you," she said. "I don’t know if I even want to."
Patrick didn’t flinch.
"I don't expect it," he said. "But if you’ll let me...I want to try. I want to be here. In whatever way you’ll allow."
She turned slowly to face him, her hands trembling at her sides.
"And your other children?" she asked bitterly. "Do they know I exist?"
He shook his head. "Not yet. I need time. To tell them properly. To explain. They deserve that much."
The honesty in his voice, the raw pleading in his eyes, twisted something deep inside her.
"I don't know if I can do this," she whispered.
"You don’t have to decide today," Patrick said gently. "Or tomorrow. I’ll wait. As long as it takes."
Standing, he stepped forward slowly as if afraid she might bolt.
"When you're ready," he said, his voice cracking, "I'll be here."
Aisling stared at him, all the anger, all the heartbreak warring inside her chest.
Years of loneliness. Of wondering. Of never quite belonging. Of being the child without a father.
And now, this man—her father—standing before her, not asking for absolution, but simply asking for a chance.
The weight of it crushed her.
"I need time," she said again, her voice breaking.
Patrick nodded. “I’m going to be here for a week. I want to visit some colleagues in Dublin. But I’ll give you all the time in the world. Aisling, I want to be your father. To walk you down the aisle, be a grandfather to your children. To make up for all the time we lost when you were a child.”
Without another word, he turned and walked to the door. At the threshold, he paused, looking back at her one last time.
