Delaney's POV:

With each day that passed, my heart broke a little more and more for Chloe and Colton. Seeing them mope around, the pain of missing their father breaking their little hearts more and more every day, was almost unbearable. And I didn't know how to fix it. Honestly, that was the worst part of being a parent; seeing your child hurting, wanting to take away all of their pain, but not knowing how to do so was excruciating. Every parent out there can agree with me when i say that we would literally do whatever it took to take away their pain, to take it on as our own so that they could go back to being the happy-go-lucky children they had always been.

Long story short, I wanted to take every bit of their pain away, I wanted to make things better for them. I wanted to make them realize that even though they had lost the first man they had ever loved –a man that they would love for the rest of their life simply because of who he was to them– that things wouldn't feel like this forever, that one day, they would be able to go about their day and the pain of losing him wouldn't have them in tears as soon as their feet hit the floor. I wanted them to know that one day, they would be able to talk about him and not start crying immediately. All in all, I wanted them to know that even though the pain of losing their father would always be with them, it wouldn't always hurt as bad as it does right now.

It's been a week since Alex's funeral. A week of watching Chloe and Colton's little minds try to accept the reality of what is happening, hearing their cries in the middle of the night when they miss their father. A week of them asking to call their father only to realize as soon as the words were out of their mouths that it wasn't possible, that they would never talk to him again. And it's been pure hell for everyone involved ranging from tears that seemed to never end, sleepless nights, and even bursts of anger because they didn't know how else to act.

More than once, I have turned into a blubbering mess over Alex. Not because I miss him in any way and not because I have any residual feelings or that I wish I had said things to him that I would now never get the chance to. That's not true... I do have things that I want to say to Alex. Things like 'why did you get in that car drunk?', 'Why didn't you think of your kids?', 'Why didn't you use your head for something other than a place to hang your damn hat?'. And I had asked those questions –to him and to Brantley– but of course there were no answers from Alex for obvious reasons and Brantley had simply held me tight while I'd broken down, telling me that some questions we would never know the answers to. Deep down, I knew he was right but that didn't make things any easier, didn't give me the answers that I needed to help explain things to the kids.

"Mama," said Chloe as she walked into the living room, the stuffed mermaid Alex had gotten her at the zoo for her birthday last year tucked tightly in her arms. Her eyes —the same ones that before all of this seemed to dance with mischief and were always the brightest shade of green— were puffy, telling me that she had been crying again.

"Come here, baby." I spread my arms open wide and she climbed up into my lap, burying her head into my chest. I wrapped my arms around her tightly, pressed a kiss against her head, and simply held her. "Tell mama what's wrong."

"I miss daddy." she said, her voice coming out in a whisper.

"I know you do, bird." I said softly, my voice cracking as I said the words. Whether the emotions were coming from the pregnancy or the tragic loss of my children's father, I didn't know. Hell, it's probably a combination of the two.

We sat there for a while, both of us quiet except for the sniffles that came from Chloe as she burrowed her face more into my chest. But when Chloe lifted her head, when her puffy green eyes stared directly into mine and said "Did daddy not love us anymore? Is that why he died?", my heart completely shattered into a million little pieces. And when I say that the organ shattered, I mean it splintered into so many pieces that I didn't know if I would ever be able to put it back together again.

"Oh baby, no." I said, hugging Chloe's little body tightly against mine as tears streamed down my face and clogged my voice. "Daddy loved you. There is no doubt in my mind about that. He just, well, he had his own way of showing it."

"No, he didn't mama." she said around her tears as her shoulder shook uncontrollably.

"Bird, I know daddy wasn't always there for you–"
"Daddy was a piece of shit." said Chloe, her words shocking me so much that it took me a minute for the words to sink in. And even as they did, I still wasn't sure I'd heard her correctly.

"Who told you that, Bird." I said, trying to keep my voice stern so that she knew that I needed to know. Chloe looked remorseful when she answered, telling me how she had overheard Pop Pop saying it to Gigi.
"Chloe, listen to me." I said. I waited until I knew she was paying attention before adding, "You're daddy was a lot of things and people form opinions of them based on their actions. I can't lie to you and tell you that Daddy was the perfect man because the truth is, none of us are perfect . We all have our flaws, we all have things in our heads that make us do and say things that others might not agree with, but I want you to remember one thing. I want you to remember that no matter what Pop Pop or anyone else says about your daddy, he loved you in the only way that he knew how. I want you to remember that daddy wasn't perfect, he made a lot of mistakes, but you and Colton were his two greatest accomplishments, even if he didn't show the two of you that all the time."
"He never answered when we called," said Chloe. "And when we were at the race, he spent more time with Willie than he did with us. We spent more time with Dillon than we did daddy."

"You know daddy's schedule was always crazy when he was at the track." I said, fighting the bitter taste of bile that threatened to send me running to the bathroom because of my untrue words. I hated that I was making excuses for him again. I hated that at seven years old, my daughter knew that the amount of time he spent working instead of with them wasn't right. Hated the fact that at such a young age, she knew that her daddy could have done more for them, spent more time with them, and been there for them if he had really wanted to.

And all of it made the anger I felt at him –the anger I tried to hide from the kids– reach a boiling point. I wanted to tell her exactly how much of a sorry excuse for a father he was, wanted to tell her that Pop Pop was right about Alex being a piece of shit, wanted to tell her that I wish I had chosen anyone else to be their father aside from him. But I didn't. I didn't say any of those things because it wasn't the right thing to do. No matter what feelings I had for Alex, pushing them on my daughter or my son wasn't something that I would ever do. I hadn't done it when he was alive and I damn sure wasn't going to do it after his death, no matter if my feelings were validated or not.
Many people might not agree with me on wanting to make sure that the kids —at least while they are young— have a good vision of their father. And that was perfectly fine. They might say that I was doing the wrong thing by letting them have this big fake picture of who their father was but the way I looked at it, they would find out sooner rather than later just how selfish Alex really was. If letting them live a delusional life for as long as possible, if shielding them from the ugly things they would find out eventually was the wrong thing to do, then I would gladly take on the fallout of it all when the time comes. But I will never regret not burdening them with things that they don't need to worry about at such a young age; and that includes Dillon and her claims to being pregnant.

Movement out of the corner of my eye pulled my attention to the doorway. Colton was standing there, the same defeated look on his face that Chloe had been wearing only moments before. Seeing him standing there only solidified my decision to shield them from the ugliness of the word.

Much like I'd done with Chloe, I opened my arms and told him to climb up in my lap. He climbed onto the couch beside me instead, resting his face against my chest as I draped and arm over his shoulders. He didn't say anything for a long time, neither did Chloe or I. The three of us just sat there, in the quiet, and soaking in one another.

"Mama," said Colton.

"What's up, bubba?"

"'Member when Bird wanted to know if Brantley was going to be our daddy? And then I said that I wanted him to be too?" Asked Colton after a while, his words shocking me.

"Yes." I said. And I did, I didn't remember. I also remembered that Brantley being a father to the kids had been the topic of mom and I's conversation on the day I learned of Alex's accident and his condition.
"Well, do you think if I asked him that he would be our daddy?" Asked Colton.

Before I could respond, Brantley's deep voice rumbled from the archway between the living room and kitchen. His voice was filled with emotion and I knew if I looked into his eyes, I would see tears there, even though he would desperately try to hide them. "You never have to ask if I would be that for either of you." Brantley said, closing the distance between us. He sat down on the coffee table and reached for each of the kids' hands with his own. He held them tightly as he looked at each of them, giving me a chance to see those tears I knew would be there momentarily.

"Since the day I met you two, I have cared about y'all. There have been these invisible strings tying all of us together since that day. So if you want me to be your father, I will be more than happy to take that role. And I promise to both of you," he looked into each of the kids' eyes before lowering them to my stomach briefly, ending with them locked with mine, "I will be the best father that I know how to be. I will love you unconditionally. And I will make sure that you never have to wonder if you all are important to me. You won't be my step children in my eyes. You will be my kids, kids that I know I will be proud of no matter what you do with your life as you get older."

If Brantley's intention was to make me ugly cry, then he was successful. But even if I knew my face was a total mess, his words made me feel so much love in that moment that I couldn't care less about my looks