Page 28 of Sebastian.

She replies with a shrug, “Yeah, it was fine. Everyone seemed to enjoy themselves. Oh, and Oma Margaret gave a great speech.”

I resist the urge to bark out a sarcastic laugh at that. It figures that Margaret would be the talk of the evening. She always has had a knack at being the center of attention.

“I'm sure she did,” I respond, trying to keep the conversation going. “And how is Elise doing?”

Hannah rolls her eyes, clearly annoyed. She’s poking at her fruit with her fork, the latte growing cold on the table beside her. “She's fine, I guess. Her and Dan are officially together now, if you didn’t know.”

Her words hit me hard, and I feel a wave of guilt wash over me. It's true; I haven't been the most attentive father lately, and I regret it deeply. “I knew she cared for him, yes, but not that they were actually together now. It's just that work and everything else has been overwhelming lately.”

Hannah scoffs. “Work, as always. Is that why you didn't bother to show up at Andries’s wedding? It's not like it was important or anything.”

Her words sting, and I know I can't defend my absence. “I had my reasons, Hannah. It's complicated.”

“Yeah, I guess I’ll just have to take your word for it.” Hannah’s apparent apathy is even worse than if she was yelling at me.

In the quiet that stretches awkwardly, I try to return my attention to breakfast, but my mind is elsewhere. I can't shake off the guilt and regret I feel for my actions. My thoughts wander to the video that Julia saw and how it might have affected the kids. I wonder if they saw it too and how it might have shattered their image of me.

I hate to admit that I’m curious about the wedding, too, and how it went for my oldest son. “And how was Andries?”

She perks up a little at this. “Oh, he was having a blast. The time of his life really. Look.”

She hands me her phone, and there’s a video pulled up of Andries and Roxanne in front of a tall white wedding cake. They’re laughing, wrapped up in each other, and I can sense the joy even through the phone screen. It guts me in a way I didn’t expect. Maybe I should have reconsidered….

“They’re going to Sardinia for their honeymoon, I think. I guess they really loved Italy and want to go back and explore more of it, but just the two of them this time,” Hannah continues, taking the phone when I hand it back to her across the table.

“Of course, that makes sense.” I don’t know what else to say. I despise Roxanne, but I love my son, even if he infuriates me. I don’t expect Hannah, as young as she is, to understand such a thing. But even if she doesn’t get why I don’t approve of the marriage, she is still probably hurt on her brother’s behalf.

As the silence stretches on again, I try to find the right words to mend our strained relationship. “You know, it's almost your birthday,” I venture, hoping to connect with her on a more personal level. “Do you have plans for your sweet sixteen? You can invite your friends over if you want.”

Hannah looks up, surprised at the sudden change of subject. “Yeah, uh, I'm not sure what I'm gonna do. All I know is that I'm gonna go to a horse show in England mid-October.”

This takes me totally off guard. Why in the world would this be her birthday plan? “A horse show? But you don't even care about horses,” I respond, genuinely puzzled.

“Well, that's a good opportunity to start caring,” she retorts, her tone slightly defensive.

“Hm. Alright, well, before that we can do something here with your friends.” I can't help but feel a mix of emotions–pride for her independence and frustration at our lack of connection. Quick on her feet, Hannah doesn’t let me have the upper hand in the conversation for long.

“Are you gonna invite yourself to my birthday party?” she asks, her tone laced with irritation.

“Don’t tell me you’re ashamed of your own father,” I tease, wanting to make her smile. It doesn’t work, and the piece of melon I’m chewing suddenly tastes sour.

“Pops…” Hannah exhales slowly. “It’s my birthday, you know? So even if I decide to do something here at home, it’s just going to be for my friends and I, okay? You seemed fine not going to Andries’s wedding, so I’m sure you’ll do okay missing out on one birthday of mine.”

I hold my hands up in defeat, ignoring the rejection I’m feeling from my own daughter. This is normal. She’s growing up, so of course she feels this way. Trying to lighten the mood some, I ask, “I can at least be present for the cake, right?”

“If you’re going to be part of it, then what about Mom?” she leans back, crossing her arms. “Is she gonna come over for my birthday while you are here too? Or are you two refusing to be around each other at all?”

"Well, I've got nothing against her,” I tell her honestly. “This is still her home too, of course. If she wants to come to the party, of course she can.”

But the truth is, I'm torn. I want to be present for Hannah's birthday, to be a part of her life, but I fear that my presence will only complicate things further. There’s no way I’d leave my own estate just so Julia could be here by herself, but I know that I’ve done quite a lot recently that might cause her to avoid me at all costs.

Hannah seems satisfied with my answer, though. “Okay, cool. Well, speaking of Mom…” Hannah puts her elbows on the table, steepling her fingers. Her gaze is locked onto mine, seeking answers. “Are you guys really going to get a divorce?”

The question pierces through my heart, and I find it hard to form a coherent response.Divorce?The word hangs heavy in the air, a stark reminder of the crumbling state of our marriage. I never thought we'd reach this point, and now, facing my daughter's questioning eyes, I feel a sense of regret. I think about how it’s been an entire week now that Julia has been gone…it’s so easy to just pretend that she’s on vacation and will be home any time, but then reality comes crashing back down on me at the worst times. Like this one.

“I...I don't know, Hannah,” I admit, my voice laced with sadness. “Your mom and I are going through some tough times, and—”

“Like because you didn’t show up at the wedding?” she interjects, her tone tinged with disappointment. “Everyonenoticed you weren't there.”

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