Irreplaceable

Part 1: Memorial

- "What future plans do you have?"

He sounded cold and was as stone-faced as ever. He reminded her of a job interviewer, not someone mourning. Why didn't he hurt as much as her, after all he is the father of her late husband.

They were at the memorial for her husband. At that moment she didn't want to even think about the past, now or let alone future. She just wanted to go to sleep and drift of somewhere so far that she wouldn't feel anything. But that was impossible. When ever she tried, it was either her or their one-year-old son, Zoro, crying.

All she could do right now was survive.

- "I'll have to move out. I won't have enough money to take care of Zoro and pay the bills," she gritted her teeth ever so slightly. It was unfair, she wasn't meant to do this by herself. Zoro wasn't supposed to grow up without knowing his father.

She wished it was her funeral and not his. He was the more capable of them both. He would already have a plan worked out, he wasn't the type to get stuck crying.

- "Life will be hard on you, I'm sorry."

Was he really? They hardly knew each other. They've only met three times, during the dinner where they announced their engagement, at the wedding and when Zoro was born. The man wasn't that talkative and he never stayed for long, saying he was busy. Official government work. A father who drowned in his work and didn't know how to talk to his son. And still her husband would admire and praise him:

- "My father is the most responsible and trustworthy person there is. If you ever get into trouble he is the type of a man you can count on!"

If you can get a hold of him that is.

- "I know we do not know each other well, but if you do not mind, you could come live with me." She was surpriced. He was the last person, whom she thought would offer help.

- "I have a large house and I am wealthy enough to take care of you and your son. You could stay as long as you want. My son... he would want that."

During that small pause she could see a sliver of change in his expression. Was it regret, sadness or guilt, she didn't know.

- "I- I will think about it," she choked, "Thank you."

He nodded and stood up. From his pocket he took a card, that had his name and number.

- "Please, call me. Even if you decline," he sounded slightly desperate. Or maybe she imagined that. It was hard to tell.

- "Of course. You are Zoros grandfather."

---

Later when everyone else had gone, she sat in the living room with her adoptive father, Gekko Moria, who was still bawling his eyes out. He had really taken a liking to her husband. They would spend time together and her husband was very good with his hands, so he helped her father whenever he could. Said that it was the least he could do for the man who raised the love of his life.

- "Moria, Dracule Mihawk offered to take care of me and Zoro until we get back on our feet," she took a deep breath, "I think I will accept."

- "What!? Him? You know you can stay with me!" Moria was shouting clearly shocked. She had just chosen a stranger over her own father.

- "That man has not cared for you or Zoro in the slightest," his face turned angry, "I don't think he cared for his son either. Did you see him earlier today? The man has no emotions!" Moria started crying again.

- "I think there's more to it than we know," she put bluntly, "if he didn't care at all, I don't think he would give such offer."

- "He just wants to take Zoro from you! Surely whatever business he runs needs an heir!" Moria added with a sarcastic note. He didn't hold Mr. Dracule in such good light as her husband had.

- "I trust my husbands opinion and he said I can count on his father," she huffed. Sure she had her doubts but this felt like the safest choice for her and Zoro. She knew her father loved her very much and would do anything for them, but he wasn't financially in a state to care for them. Everyday would be a struggle. So it was smart to keep good relations to Mr. Dracule. Something in that emotion she saw earlier, made her certain that she could trust the man.

And maybe, just maybe, he was as hurt as she was.