James T. Kirk

"I'm not blameless in all of this. Far from it," Chris snapped. "After George died, everything went to hell, Winnie and I were assigned to separate postings, and we had a discussion. Remember what I told you earlier, three of us or nothing? I loved Winnie enough to let her go. And I was stupid enough to believe that the three of you would get along just fine."

He scrubbed a hand over his face, not wanting to see the reproach in Jim's expression. "I don't know what I was thinking. I had this vague idea that we'd give it some time, do our five-year assignments or however long we'd be out there, then I'd come find all of you and everything would be somehow magically okay. But obviously that's not how real life works. I was out there a long time and you seemed further and further away, and then I lost track of you completely."

Chris looked up, knew his sadness was written plainly on his face. "I could have tried to track you down. But I didn't. That's something I'll regret for the rest of my life, Jim, and I'm sorry. You're right. I'm not father material, because a real father would have been there for his kids no matter what." His voice fell. "George would have."