"Mommy, Mommy! I don't want Daddy! I don't want Daddy! I want Daddy Patrick to be my daddy! Daddy is no good at anything. He's just a boring old hick!"
Hilary's shrill voice cut through his thoughts.
Hildegarde gazed at Patrick, her eyes soft with affection. She pinched Hilary's rosy cheek and cooed, "Alright, alright. Daddy Patrick can be your daddy. Mommy promises, okay?"
Then she turned to Wilfred, and her expression went cold again.
"Wilfred, what are you still doing here? Haven't you embarrassed yourself enough? Get to the kitchen and make Patrick's tarts!"
Wilfred's heart felt like it was being carved up with a knife.
Everything inside him turned to ash.
Without a word, he walked back to the kitchen.
He carefully removed the birthday cake he'd baked from the oven—his final gift to his daughters.
Once he brought the cake out and celebrated one last birthday with them, he would leave this house forever.
Then a small hand wrapped around his leg from behind.
"Daddy!"
Wilfred looked down.
It was Penelope Dickerson.
Hildegarde had given him twin daughters. The elder was Hilary; the younger was Penelope.
Looking at Penelope's delicate face and her wide, innocent eyes, Wilfred fought back tears. He reached down and stroked her hair. "Tell Daddy—what's your birthday wish?"
"I want to be with Daddy forever."
"Daddy... are you going to divorce Mommy?"
Penelope's big eyes brimmed with hurt.
She was the younger twin, but she was remarkably bright. At three, she'd shown intelligence far beyond her years. By four, Wilfred had started teaching her calligraphy.
After a year of practice, she could already read many characters.
She must have found the divorce papers he'd hidden in his study drawer.
Wilfred couldn't hold back any longer. Tears rolled down his cheeks.
He knelt and pulled her into his arms.
"Then let me ask you something. If Daddy really divorces Mommy, do you want to stay with Daddy, or with Mommy and your sister?"
"I want Daddy!"
Wilfred smiled.
His battered heart finally found a sliver of comfort.
He took Penelope's small hand in his.
In that moment, his resolve solidified.
If Hildegarde wanted to be with her childhood sweetheart, if Hilary wanted Patrick to be her father—fine. He would give them what they wanted.
All he needed was Penelope.
He pushed open the kitchen door, walked into the dining room, and set the cake on the table.
"Hilary, this is the cake Daddy made for you."