I wear this crown of thorns, upon my liar's chair. Full of broken thoughts I cannot repair. Beneath the stains of time, the feelings disappear. You are someone else. I am still right here.

Zoe would be five by now. I wonder if Emilie's found anyone new yet? A real father for Zoe. Someone who'll raise her right. Someone who'll treat Emilie like the queen she is. I sit at my desk. My office has a huge window in it, with an incredible view. Today, I can't hel but think out loud, "Emilie would love this view."

My secretary, a pretty little brunette with big dark eyes, stands in the doorway. "Um, sir? There's a woman here, with a little girl. She won't leave...She says that it's Zoe's birthday."

I look up at the girl. "Send them in immediately."

"Yes, sir," she says, scampering off to follow my order. As if I deserve that kind of respect...

In walks Emilie, my love, my life, with a little girl clinging to her legs. It shocks me how much she looks like me. Somehow, I always expected her to look like her mother. Emilie gives the little girl a slight shove in my direction. "Go on, honey. Go see your daddy."

The girl shyly approaches me, unsure of how to act. I'm too bewildered by the whole thing to really comprehend. Zoe puts her small, tender hand on my large, rough one, and I crumple. "Oh, honey," I say, pulling my daughter to me and holding onto her for dear life, as if she might disappear at any moment. My shoulders are shaking with silent sobs. In my younger days, I would've been far too proud to even think of being like this. I was always the tough, unemotional one. I didn't show anything. I'm too tired for that, though. It takes too much effort to keep up that barrier.

"Spot?" Emilie says, looking at me with concern in the beautiful blue eyes of hers. Her voice is so warm and tender. She hasn't changed a bit since I saw her last. Yet, somehow, she's more different than ever.

"Spot, we need to talk," she says softly. I look up at her and nod.