“Amelia, sweetheart,” he began, his voice sounding more uncertain than he intended. “Clara is wonderful, of course. But… these ladies… they’re here because…”
Amelia interrupted, her youthful certainty piercing through his faltering words. “Daddy, I don’t want someone because they’re pretty or wear shiny clothes. I want someone who loves me like Mommy did.”
Richard felt a pang at the mention of his late wife, Elena. She had been the heart of their family, a beacon of warmth and love. Her absence was a void that no amount of wealth or social standing could fill. He realized, in that moment, that he had been trying to replace something irreplaceable with superficiality.
