Page 29 of Sebastian.

Her words hit home, and the guilt intensifies. My absence on such a significant day for our family is a wound that won't easily heal. God, it meant so much to Julia. I struggle to find the right words to explain my actions, knowing deep down that there is no justification.

Before I can say anything, though, Hannah's phone begins to ring, providing her with an escape from the weight of the conversation. Her eyes light up when she sees the screen, and she quickly excuses herself to go take the call in private.

Sitting alone, it’s much harder to ignore the mess that I’ve found myself in. When I close my eyes, I see the darkness of the club last night, and the woman who I didn’t even know swaying seductively in front of me. I felt nothing, and it did the opposite of relaxing me. Not wanting to dwell, I focus back on my daughter, who left so quickly that I didn’t even have time to say a word.

Hannah is so different from Elise and Andries. They would have never left the table for a call, and would have been embarrassed to have their phone ring out loud at the dinner table. Feeling irritated over Hannah's lack of manners, I finish my orange and notice that the house seems unusually quiet.

Alex brought the kids back last night…shouldn’t they be up and getting ready for summer camp? Curious, I wipe my hands on my napkin and go in search of someone to ask. I pull the first maid I come across aside, and ask her where the children are this late in the morning.

“Summer camp is over, and school begins in two days,” Claudia explains, looking at me oddly––her brows knit together.

I cringe internally. What kind of father has to get his kid’s school schedule from the maid because he doesn’t know anything about it? Apparently me.

“Arthur is up, though, and probably getting his bath with Floris,” Claudia continues.

With no pressing engagements, I decide to pay my youngest son a visit. As I walk through the corridors, I can't help but reflect on the different dynamics with each of my children.

Hannah's attitude troubles me, but I know I need to address the issue delicately. She's at an age where she's asserting her independence, and I must find a way to connect with her without being overbearing. It's a fine balance to strike, and one that I'm still learning to navigate as a parent.

Reaching Arthur's room, I hear giggles and splashing from inside. I smile at the thought of my youngest son enjoying his bath time, the first genuine smile of the day. Pushing open the door gently, I find Arthur in the bathtub, surrounded by floating rubber ducks, his eyes wide with excitement. His nanny is there too, seated on a stool next to the bathtub with a washcloth in her hand.

Floris looks up, and surprise is clear in her face. “Oh! Mr. Van den Bosch! I wasn’t expecting you. It’s usually Mrs. Julia who comes to check in.”

“Daddy!” he exclaims, a grin spreading across his face. “Look, ducks!”

I chuckle as I approach him. “Yes, I see them. They seem to be having quite the party in here.”

“Would you like to help with his bath?” Floris offers, holding out the cloth for me. “I can go get his clothes ready for the day if so.”

I swallow, hesitating before taking the wet rag from her hand. Why is this odd for me? I’ve raised five children before Arthur, and bathed all of them at one time or another. Then it hits me—I haven’t been hands on like this since the months when Julia was on maternity leave. That’s almost impossible for me to believe, but when I search my memories, I’m not happy to find that it’s the truth.

“Okay, I can do that.”

Floris leaves, smiling back at us as Arthur laughs, his innocent joy infectious. I crouch down beside the tub and offer him a playful splash. He giggles even more, enjoying the simple game we're playing.

“How's my little man today?” I ask, ruffling his wet hair.

“Good! Ducks are fun!” he replies, his enthusiasm evident.

As I watch him play, I feel a sense of peace wash over me, washing away the guilt I’m still feeling. We begin the bath time routine, and I pour water over Arthur's head. He giggles, splashing water playfully. The room fills with his innocent laughter, and for a moment, all the worries and troubles of the outside world seem to vanish.

I watch him play with the floating toys, creating imaginary stories in his little world. We talk and laugh together, and I feel joy I haven't experienced in a long time. I remember when Julia and I used to do this together, back when Arthur was just a baby. I can't help but wonder if my lack of involvement in these simple yet meaningful moments has contributed to the distance between us.

I gently wash Arthur's hair and back, and I realize that being present is crucial in nurturing a strong bond with my son. I've been so preoccupied with work and other issues that I've lost sight of what truly matters. Arthur’s bath time becomes an opportunity for me to reflect on my role as a husband and father. I make a silent promise to myself that I will do better, that I will be more present and involved in the lives of my children.

Once we finish the bath, I wrap Arthur in a fluffy towel, and he cuddles up to me. I feel a sense of contentment in this simple embrace. I help Arthur put his shorts and t-shirt on, with Floris helping along the way. I am shaken when a wave of regret washes over me. It's becoming increasingly evident that I haven't been as involved in the lives of my children as I should be. Arthur's sweet, loving disposition and his genuine excitement for the day ahead make me realize how much I've missed by being distant and preoccupied.

Why did I let it come to this?I wonder silently, glancing at Arthur's bright eyes. He's growing up so fast, and I can't help but feel like I've been absent for the most crucial moments of his life. Julia has always been the one to take care of him, to know his daily schedule, and now I feel like a stranger to my own son.

I turn my attention to Floris, eager to know what's on the schedule for Joris and Aleida. She informs me that they have a picnic in the park planned for the day, providing them with engaging activities and opportunities to socialize with other kids their age. I'm relieved to know that they're spending their time constructively, but at the same time, I feel useless for not knowing these details.

I should have been more involved, asked them about their plans, shown interest in their lives, I berate myself internally. Instead, I’ve been so consumed by my own problems that I’ve pushed them away.

I’m shaken out of my self-loathing when I hear Aleida and Joris's cheerful voices in the hallway. It’s ridiculous, but I’m almost nervous to face them, especially after the harsh epiphanies I’ve just had about Arthur. Still, it's been a while since I've spent quality time with them, and I want to make the most of this opportunity to connect with my middle children.

I step out into the hallway, and their faces light up when they see me. “Hey there, kiddos,” I greet them warmly, trying to hide any signs of the inner turmoil I'm feeling. “Are you all set for your day in the park?”

They nod eagerly, their eyes shining with enthusiasm. “Yes! We're super excited!” Aleida exclaims, bouncing on her toes.

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