Chapter 830 “Not Yet, Sera”
Sunlight danced across the gold–trimmed furniture of the luxurious suite, catching in the golden strands of Serafina’s hair as Beckham patiently combed them. “Come on, I want Pigtails, Grandpa!”
Her voice was as bright as the diamonds on her tiny fingers, “Pigtails are so cute! Mommy and Daddy will love them!”
But before Beckham could agree, a small voice cut in, a hint of disapproval lacing in its childish tone. “Not yet, Sera,”
Soren said, his brow furrowed. “He’s not our Daddy… yet. Calling him that now might make him a bit too full of himself.”
Serafina’s face fell, her bottom lip trembling. “But he is! Grandpa said so, he even guaranteed!”
Beckham smiled, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Exactly what I was thinking.”
Serafine spun towards Soren, her eyes, like dark jewels, locking on his. “Look in the mirror, mister! You’re practically Daddy’s twin! If he’s not our Daddy, then who is?”
Soren flushed, avoiding her gaze. “I didn’t say he isn’t,” he mumbled, “just… maybe let’s hold off on the official announcement, okay?”
Serafina’s voice softened her tone to barely a whisper. “Whether early or late, he’s still our Daddy, right?”
She spun around, eyes sparkling. “Grandpa! Why’re you brushing my hair? Sera never knew that Grandpa could do a girl’s hair!”
Beckham sighed softly, gazing at the girl’s reflection in the mirror. A pang of nostalgia tugged at him. Back then, when Cherise was this young, she was still a mountain girl, running barefoot through the fields. And he, as her father, had given Gwenn every ounce of his love.
Back then, he was in the dark that Gwenn wasn’t his biological daughter; he only knew that after Charisa disappeared, Gwenn was the last connection between him and Charisa in this world, an existence he couldn’t give up or lose.
Back then, Beckham didn’t know Gwenn wasn’t his biological daughter. She was like a lifeline after his wife disappeared, the last piece of her he had left.
He poured all his love into Gwenn, raising her into someone independent and fearless. Perhaps this love blinded him.
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He was so obsessed with his bong with Gwenn that he convinced himself blood didn’t matter, that their bend, stronger than family, would always be enough.
Beckham didn’t realize, in cherishing Gwenn, that he’d unintentionally neglected his real daughter. And now, as he gently brushed Sera’s hair, remembering his first mistake, he vowed to make things right.
“Because, sweetheart, I never brushed your mom’s hair when she was little. The old man
said.
Sera’s eyes sparkled. “Then why don’t you brush hers now?” she chirped. “She only combs it herself, but she’d love someone else to do it!”
After saying that, she looked at Soren, wanting his agreement. “Ren, am I right?”
Soren grunted, fiddling with the Rubik’s Cube, “Don’t even bother asking me. You ladies are too much work. What’s there to be happy about getting your hair combed? Just cut it short if you hate it so much!”
Sera stuck out her tongue. “Humph, Silly! Because long hair is pretty, but combing it can be a pain!”
She beamed at Beckham. “Make my hair super shiny, Grandpa! When I see Mom, I’ll tell her how good you are at it! Who knows, she’ll even ask you to do her hair!”
The little one clapped for herself. “I am so smart!”
