At his wife's scream of anguish, Alexander closed his eyes. He couldn't bear to see his son's small, too-still, bloody body. The hand he clutched in his was already getting cold.
Philip Hamilton was dead, and it was his father's fault.
After an eternity of sitting silently, Alexander released Philip's hand and stood. He placed his hand tentatively on Eliza's shoulder, and for the first time since that cursed pamphlet, she didn't shrug it off. She leaned into him, sobbing, and he felt his own tears fall faster in response.
He extended the hand not on her shoulder and waited. After a moment Eliza wiped at her face and stood on her own, ignoring his wordless offer of help. He tried not to let her rejection sting, but he knew he deserved it.
It should be him on the ground instead.
He wanted to hold Eliza, to comfort her and to prove to himself that there were some good things left in his life, but there was no way she would accept that. Not after everything he'd done. He couldn't blame her. He probably hated himself more than she did.
How could he have messed everything up so spectacularly? Was he completely incapable of having a normal happy life? Everything had been going so well before… Before Maria.
So he didn't hold Eliza, though it pained him to see her walk away from him. He didn't have the right to be hurt.
The grieving couple moved uptown. The loss tore them apart even as it pulled them closer together. Alexander knew every time Eliza looked at him she saw only Philip. But over time the rough edges of the hole of where their son should smooth. The jaggedness of the loss would dull to an ache in the back of their minds.
Even Eliza would eventually forgive him. He vowed to do his best to never need to earn his way back into her good graces again. He would be good. He would prove himself to her. He would make himself worthy of her. He would force himself to deserve her. It would never be enough.
Alexander withdrew from politics for the most part, but he knew Burr harbored resentment for the election results. He just couldn't bring himself to care.
Nothing mattered anymore. They were broken, both of them. And finally Alexander saw the truth: Eliza needed Philip more than she needed him.