(Jasper’s POV)
I watch the taillights disappear around the corner, taking my wife and daughter with them.
My daughter.
The word sits heavy in my chest, sharp and cutting. Lily. My little girl who doesn't even know my name. She calls me "the nice man" while another man drives her home, tucks her in, reads her bedtime stories.
Everything I should be doing.
I stand frozen on the sidewalk until the cold seeps through my jacket. My hands shake as I fish for my keys, but I can't seem to make them work. Can't make anything work.
When I finally stumble back into the house, James is waiting in the living room. He looks older somehow, deflated. Virginia's nowhere to be seen.
"Jasper—"
"She doesn't know me." The words come out broken, barely a whisper. "My own daughter doesn't know who I am."
