It's too much to bear my darlin', the weight of the world
And I would carry it for you
Noah let his daughter down and watched both of his children. They moved about the kitchen like this had been a normal part of their lives for years. I’m sorry this happened. Noah said, straightening silverware and bowls as Margot placed them on the heavy-topped wooden table. But look at them. His voice across the bond was soft and filled with every ounce of paternity he had. His glacier eyes sparkled with the tears he couldn’t stop, though his thick lashes kept them from rolling down his cheeks. They’re perfect. And they were — the way they talked, the way they walked. Their eyes and hands and hair and everything about them was perfect. Safe. Put together. Blessed.
