The Day Our Promise Breaks

When Charles tried to stand up,

his legs buckled beneath him. He'd been kneeling for so long that pain shot through his body the moment he moved, cold sweat breaking out across his forehead.

His tall, broad-shouldered frame swayed unsteadily. He reached out just in time, bracing himself against the doorframe to keep from collapsing onto the polished church floor.

It took several moments for Charles to catch his breath and muster the strength to stand upright, teeth gritted against the throbbing ache in his knees.

Step by step, he forced himself forward, making his way deeper into the chapel.

He was led to the priest, and with a voice full of earnest sincerity, Charles said, "Father, I'd like to light a perpetual candle for my daughter, Charlie."

At the mention of Charlie's name, the priest gave Charles a curious look. "You're also Charlie's father?"

That word-also-made Charles freeze.

He was Charlie's only father. What did the priest mean, also?

The question soured something deep inside him. His voice dropped, sharp with irritation. "What do you mean by that?"

Just then, Brooks and Evelyn emerged from the back of the church, standing together in the soft glow of stained glass.

Brooks had come to light a candle for Charlie as well, accompanied by Evelyn. That must have caused the misunderstanding.

"My apologies," the priest said, folding his hands in front of his chest.

Charles nodded stiffly in return, but the slight still stung. Charlie only ever had him for a father. That would never change.

His gaze darkened as he looked at Brooks and Evelyn standing side by side, but he forced himself to focus-today was about Charlie. He wouldn't let anything else distract him.

Swallowing the ache in his heart, Charles followed the priest to the altar to light a perpetual candle for Charlie.

He knelt there, hands clasped, his heart full of silent prayers. Charlie's name echoed over and over in his mind.

Memories of her growing up the laughter, the tears, the way she'd wrapped herself around his heart-flooded his thoughts, each one sharper than the last. The more he remembered, the deeper the pain.

...

Evelyn and Brooks, having just finished lighting their own candle for Charlie, knelt a few pews away from Charles.

In this moment, all old grudges and resentments faded away. They were united by

a single wish: that Charlie might find peace.

The priest finished his prayer and moved to light Charles's candle.

But the candle refused to catch.

The priest hesitated, surprised. He tried again, striking the match and holding the flame to the wick. For a brief moment, it flared—then sputtered out.

He glanced at the stubborn candle, then turned to Charles, hands folded with regret.

"Mr. Jenkins," he said quietly, "I'm afraid I can't do it."

Shock rippled through Charles. His eyes widened, his face draining of color. He nearly lost control, voice trembling as he demanded, "What do you mean, you can't? Why won't the candle light for my daughter?"

"Why? Isn't it obvious?" Evelyn's voice was icy, cutting through the hush of the church. "Charlie can't forgive you, Charles. She doesn't want your candle. She can't accept it—not after everything."

The candle's refusal brought Evelyn no satisfaction, only a deep, aching sorrow for Charlie. Charlie had loved Charles so fiercely-how disappointed must she have been, on the day she died, to carry that hurt with her even now?

Charles recoiled as if struck. The idea that Charlie resented him-that she

wouldn't forgive him-hit him harder than any wound.

"No!" he whispered, desperate. "Charlie loved me. She knows her father is sorry-

she wouldn't turn me away!"

He stumbled to his feet, nearly

falling, and made his way to the altar. Hands shaking, he grabbed a fresh box of matches and tried to light the candle himself. Once, twice, three times-the wick remained cold and dark.

५

His fingers trembled so badly that the matches slipped from his grasp, clattering to the stone floor.

Charles's knees buckled, and he

sank in front of the unlit cand net

meant for Charlie, the refusabcutting through him like the sharpest blade.

He pressed his forehead to his hands, pain and guilt tightening around his heartnoveldrama

until he could barely breathe.