Abbott Beaumont sat on the last step of the staircase in his house, smiling warmly at the photo clutched in his hand. His wife, Rose smiled back at him, wearing a floral red dress, her head placed on his shoulder in the picture. It had been their second wedding anniversary.

He remembered that day; Rose had expected him to have forgotten all about it, but Abbott had learned from the mess he'd made on their first anniversary.

He'd surprised Rose with a simple gold ring he'd earned after a whole year of extra labor. He wasn't a successful businessman back then, but a worker in the corporate world too small to meet his expenses. He'd worked two shifts for a month to be able to afford the ring.

When rose saw the gift, her eyes welled up with tears because she knew how much it would have taken for him to buy that, but Rose's gift beat his.

Abbott smiled at the memory.

His wife had gifted him with wonderful news, and half a year later a baby girl had come into their lives.

Giselle sat beside him and placed her cheek on his shoulder, bringing him back to the present. Abbott wrapped his right arm around his daughter. He kissed her on the top of her head, wishing to protect her from every kind of sadness, wishing to provide her with everything she desired.

Both stared at the picture. Abbott didn't know what went on in his daughter's mind, but for once, he pushed Rose out of his head and thought about Giselle. Ever since her mother died, she'd changed. It had taken Giselle months to get out of the darkness after the loss, and he wished that upon no one.

He wondered what it would be like for her to live if he was no more. Who would care for her? Who would look after her?

Chris. He was the only one Abbott could think of; the only one who genuinely cared about his daughter after him.

Abbott looked at her from the corner of his eye. Every once in a while he considered telling her about his choice, to let her know about Chris's feelings toward her.

Of course, he knew! He knew that Chris wanted to be more than a friend to Giselle. It was the way he looked at her that reminded him of what Rose meant to Abbott. Maybe, they even were involved. He didn't know. All he knew was that she had to know what Abbott thought of that.

"Are you okay?" He heard her little voice.

He smiled. "I'm fine now that I'm with my princess."

Silence followed, broken by Giselle's whisper, "I'm sorry..."

Abbott placed his cheek on top of her head and replied, "For what?"

She scooted closer. "I don't know..."

"Well, then you shouldn't be."

"But I am..."

Abbott chuckled softly and said, "...which brings us back to the same question--Sorry for what?"

"Well," she said, "for not being here with you...by your side."

Abbott chuckled again. His little girl seemed to be growing up. "I think out of the two of us, it's my job to take care of you. I should be the one to worry about your happiness, not the other way around."

She paused. "Your smile makes me happy, daddy."

"Right back at you."

Giselle's voice was barely audible as she said, "I love you."

He sighed. "I love you more, Ro--Giselle."

Giselle untangled herself from him and stared at his face. "You miss her."

He looked at her face, seeing so much of Rose in her, then his eyes darted toward the floor underneath his feet as he said, "I do. She was my companion." He gulped. "It seems like it was just yesterday when she..." His voice trailed off.

Giselle placed her hand on his back and rubbed it soothingly. "You have me."

He turned to her and poked her nose, smiling. "And you, me."

She smiled in reply.

"You're just like your mother, you know," he said. A small smile played on his lips. "And not just physically. You have her spirit, her generosity."

She blinked thrice in a second.

He placed his hand on her head. "I'm so proud of you."

She smiled, her eyes filling up.

Rose had once told him that it was all she'd ever wanted to hear her father say, that he was proud of her. His daughter's tear-filled eyes confirmed to him that maybe it was almost every kid's wish.

Abbott returned the smile. A long moment of comfortable silence followed. She placed her head back on his shoulder, and he went back to staring at his wife's smiling photograph.

The thought crossed his mind again, and he couldn't seem to shake it off. What would Giselle do if he left her the way Rose had?

With a heavy heart, he said, "I have something to tell you."

"Yes?"

"When I..." He knew it would hurt her, but he had to let it out. He couldn't put a finger on the reason, but he was convinced that she had to know. "When I die, Giselle, I wish for my body to be buried here in Petrichor, next to Rose's."

Giselle sprang to her feet and left him sitting on the staircase alone. He looked up at her red eyes.

Abbott got up to his feet, ready to explain himself. Only, he didn't know what to say.

"Don't you dare," she said, her voice cracking, "talk to me that way--I've lost enough, don't you think?"

"Oh, honey. I'm sorry. But life isn't always the way we want it to be."

"I know that! Just don't talk about it. Please." Her voice cracked again, and Abbott could feel his heart breaking.

"Come 'ere," whispered Abbott as he pulled her into a warm hug. "I'm sorry."

"Don't say that again," Giselle said in a tiny voice.

"I won't, flower."

"And you won't leave me."

"Never."

"Promise?"

"Cross my heart and hope to die." He paused. "Pun intended."

She laughed through her tears. "Right. Very funny."

"Come on! Give some credit to your old man." He grinned and felt her vibrate with giggles. He kissed her head again.

"I love you, dad. I'd do anything for you."

Abbott paused, letting the silence continue, and then said quietly, "Anything?"

"Anything!" she promised and tightened the grip of her arms around him.

He knew he was taking advantage of her vulnerability, but topped the guilt with authority--he was her father. "What if I tell you that I've chosen you a partner?"

She didn't break the hug. "What kind of partner?"

"Life partner, Giselle."

There was a painful, uncomfortable pause. "Dad, I... But--"

They broke the hug and he said, "Please, Giselle, you must know, I would never choose anything for you that is not for your better future."

"Yes, but--"

"You promised," he added with desperation.

"Daddy..."

"I'm not forcing you. I'm just letting you know about my choice."

She heaved a sigh. "Okay, tell me who it is so that I can give you my answer."

They stared at each other, Giselle probably anticipating what was to come, and Abbott wondering if he should say the name, afraid of this moment to be the reason Giselle and Chris's friendship rusted.

But he'd decided. "Chris."

Giselle took a step back as if hit on the chest. "Ch-Chris?"

"Chris," he repeated, nodding.

Her expression revealed as if she'd just realized that Chris was, in fact, a man.

Giselle began softly, "Dad, I've never thought about him that way."

"You two have been the best of friends!" Abbott was starting to sound impatient. He had not expected this outcome. He'd expected her to blush, to be upset, to laugh, to be angry, but not this.

"No! Yes, but...no, dad! Oh my god, that's just--"

"--a perfect match?" His voice raised more than he intended.

"No, daddy! Do you have any idea what you sound like?"

Abbott paused, breathed, and looked at her as if seeing her for the first time. "Do you like someone else?"

He saw as the corner of her mouth twitched, and she blinked twice with the word, "No."

"You're lying to me." His teeth gritted.

"Daddy--"

Her phone rang, cutting her mid-sentence. She pulled it out of her pant pocket, saw the caller's ID, hung it up, and looked up at him.

She said, "My friend is calling. Sorry, dad, I gotta go."

"Your friend?" His stare kept her rooted to the floor.

She looked down and then up again, gulping. "Yeah."

"So, this is it?" His eyes hurt and he realized that he'd been glaring at his daughter.

"Dad, I need to go."

He knew that she just wanted to get out of the argument, but it infuriated him. He breathed to calm himself. "No."

"Dad?"

"I don't approve of your friend."

She looked up, her eyes red. "I don't know what to do with this information."

"You decide after you realize what it's worth."

She shook her head. "That's unfair! You have to give me a chance. You have to listen."

"The way you're listening to me?"

"Please." She hiccupped and looked down, a few tears falling. It brought him back to his senses.

He sighed, hating himself, and softly called, "Giselle." She looked up. "It's okay."

Her eyes went wide. "Will you meet him?"

His jaw hardened again. "I will consider it."

She moved forward to hug him, but he put his hand up, rejecting her. She stopped, and her jaw wobbled.

He continued, "If I don't like him, you will not have a choice."

Her brows merged. "What do you mean?"

"I will meet him. I promise I won't be biased. But if I don't like that boy for you, you will have to agree to my choice."

She gaped. "Will you force me?"

He stared at her, his heart breaking for her, but his face remained neutral.

She sniffed. "Okay. If this is how you want to make things between us, fine."

He nodded. "I can say the same to you."

"Very mature." She turned on her heels and walked toward the door.

His heart sank. "Never leave during a fight." The words left his mouth, but they echoed in Rose's voice.

Giselle stopped, apparently reminded, too, of her mother's words. She turned around to look at him, her eyes filling up. She blinked, and the tears fell on her face.

He repeated, "Never leave during a fight." His own eyes glistened. "Always end it."

She shook her head. "What do you want me to say? I agree, okay?" She sniffed. "It's your choice in the end. My life, sure, but your choice. Only because I care about you. I care about you so much I would sign away my life. But you don't care about me enough to consider what makes me happy."

He took a step toward her and spoke softly. "I care about you more than you can imagine. More than any boy can care for you. Every choice I've ever made in my life has been for you."

She nodded, her tears falling. "And I hate you. There! I ended the fight."

His heart broke.

And she walked out.