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“Please, let me explain,” he said, his voice trembling as he approached me.
“Explain what? That you thought groceries were more important than your daughter being born?”
“I’m sorry, Aria,” he said. “I was torn between you and Mom. And I didn’t know what to do. I chose wrong. Please, forgive me. I’ll do anything to make it right.”
“I know I messed up,” he said. “I know I hurt you. But I want to make it right.”
I refused to speak.