Dimitri
Christmas. It was the worst time of the year. The time where how much I had lost hit me the hardest. Most years my daughters didn’t even come home and why would they? They thought I had murdered Sophia. And they had loved her. And even as they grew older and realised that I wasn’t the monster people thought I was, they were growing up fast, spending time with their father, even over the holidays wasn’t something they willingly did.
Which left me alone with nothing but my own thoughts for company. Thoughts of Sophia and what could have been. My life could have been so different if I wasn’t such an asshole. If I had thought about my young wife more than my own wants and needs. I had been borderline abusive to a woman, who had no idea how to cope with my narcissistic needs
