Ten years since the 456 had been defeated. Ten long, lonely years.
As she approached the grave, she saw the figure standing there motionless, gazing down, oblivious to everything. She'd never seen him there before, but she'd suspected he was behind the flowers that were always left there on each anniversary.
Part of her wanted to walk away, as she had done last time she'd seen him. Another part wanted to scream at him for what he'd done.
Instead, she took a step forwards and stood beside him. When she glanced at his face, she could see the tears running down his cheeks. He didn't look at her. Couldn't, most likely. Ashamed, grief-stricken, broken. So unlike the man she'd known.
Maybe it was time.
She slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow. "I had a feeling it was you. Leaving the flowers," she said quietly. "Only you would know the exact day."
He didn't pull away, but his head dipped a little. "I didn't think you'd be here so early."
"Avoiding me?"
"You made it clear last time I saw you that you wanted nothing more to do with me."
"I was angry and hurt and grieving and devastated. I'm still angry and hurt and grieving and devastated. I haven't forgiven you."
"I'm not expecting you to. I haven't forgiven myself. I probably never will."
She bit her lip. "I still love you, though."
He turned to face her. "You've never said that to me before."
She shrugged. "I don't even know why I'm saying it now. It's true, though."
"I've loved you from the moment you were born, Alice. I always will." As tears flooded down her cheeks, he wrapped his arms around her. "I'm sorry," he said, over and over again. "I'm so sorry."
As he made to pull away, she stopped him. "Stop, just… hold me a bit longer? Please, Dad."
He pulled her closer, holding her as she cried into his chest, his own tears falling unheeded onto his daughter's dark hair. "I've got you," he murmured. "I've got you."