Inside of Martin's study, April sat down on one of the brown leather sofas and her father sat on the other. He leaned back rubbed his temples and sighed.
Feeling guilt and overwhelming grief he could do nothing but blame himself for what was happening now. He found it hard to face his daughter or look at his wife's paintings. He had dove into his work and had hoped his wife's best friend Rachel would look after April. Was he wrong in the end? He wasn't sure yet.
He wanted to bury his head in work so he wouldn't miss his wife Kathleen but it had never worked out that way. He still loved and missed her more than ever, it was as if it was only yesterday that she died. The same overwhelming grief and sorrow he felt then he still feels now.
April watched as her father sat I'm front of her with his eyes closed. She stood up and went to his mini kitchenette in the corner of the study room.
