Theodore Rookwood was, technically speaking, a father of two. For the births of those children, he had been unequivocally absent. For the death of one, he had also not been there. It had taken place in the stark halls of St. Mungo’s. A life had lapsed – a life he had helped to create – and he’d not been there. What truly jarred at his heart was the fact that he couldn’t remember the boy’s name. He had no clue what Hallie had done for him insofar as a funeral was concerned. He had not even looked into his face and been able to perceive the sort of man he could have been. He’d run from the moment. He’d hidden from the hell that had been brought down upon his reality and had chosen to deal with his grief without his wife, dooming her, too, to that fate. With that, so too their lives together lapsed.
St. Mungo’s at a chance to redeem itself. In the coming hours, it could fill his world with a new life. It could give him a chance to make right the mistakes of the past. He knew nothing could truly fix his mistakes. He knew that one day, when Esme had the whole truth laid out before her, she would struggle to meet his gaze and move the sudden loathing from her heart. She’d turn to Mai, then, he hoped, and seek some sort of explanation where he had none. He had failed her from the very beginning, from the moment she’d lit up a spark within her mother. He’d failed them both from the beginning, in truth. Every day he toiled to make up for his mistake in leaving her, knowing that he should have been stronger, should have walked away. He should have tried to make a life with Cressida, and with their daughter.
But he hadn’t. He’d taken the easy road, one that had been fraught with punishment for his sins. And yet, his life had been on an upward curve since his little girl had re-entered his life and since he had met Mairen. Inexplicably, he’d found a happiness that he could only write off as a pipe dream as a child, something that other people experienced that he could only hanker after. He would have splendour to console himself with, and heirs. That was what he had been told he’d have. His uncle’s sardonic reminder was that, if he was ever lonely, the soft touch of a woman was only a sack of gold away. There was no real love to be had. It didn’t exist for Rookwoods. And yet here it was. Waiting for him. If only he wasn’t so stubborn.
Stepping forward at Mai’s words, trying to shove away the increasing disquiet that he felt welling up, boiling within him, he leaned down and pressed his lips gently to her forehead.
“My teacher said that it’s okay because it means I’ll get a new brother or sister,” Esme supplied chirpily, glancing round at her father for reassurance.
“That’s right, love,” he smiled, touching his knuckles gently to her cheek.
“I love you,” Esme replied, smiling widely at Mai. “Do I get to pick the name?”
“Only if we run out of ideas,” Theo chuckled, reaching down to scoop her up. Esme let her head rest on his shoulder, a content smile on her face.
“Can she be called Daisy?”
“Daisy Rookwood?” Theodore raised an eyebrow, smirking a bit because, despite himself, he did quite like it. “You want a sister, hm?”
“I don’t mind,” she shrugged. “Mai, can you tell? My teacher said sometimes you can tell.”
“Your teacher is full of—”
At that moment, the Healer entered the room and offered the family a broad smile. Theodore bounced Esme idly, his other hand reaching down to settle on the top of Mai’s head, his fingers curling back loose bits of hair from her face.
“Is there anywhere Esme can go for the duration of proceedings?” He inquired.
“Erm,” Theo looked down at Mai and bit the inside of his cheek before supposing that, really, the only people that would be content to take her on such short notice would be the Hayeses. He nodded and the Healer disappeared to go and Floo the couple. It was probably right that Esme shouldn’t stay with them – as loathe as Theo was to let her go.
They said their goodbyes and Theo murmured that he wouldn’t be long before heading out into the corridor to meet Millie who looked … tired? Was that the word at hand? It didn’t seem articulate enough.
“It doesn’t matter,” she told him curtly, taking Esme into her arms. “Hello gorgeous. How was your holiday?”
“Kegs at home with the squids?” Theo checked, trying to meet the witch’s eyes.
“Yeah,” she breezed, her gaze focused on Esme. “C’mon, let’s go and get some supper, baby.”
Shaking off the weird feeling that something was wrong, Theo returned to the delivery room and took hold of Mai’s hand before dropping another kiss to the top of her head.
“I love you.”