*Eleanor*
I swear that my heart left my body for a moment when I heard Ivar call Anders Dada. My lip quivers as I look at him. He’s shocked, and I know he’s waiting for my reaction.
“I’m Anders,” he tells him gently. “An-ders.”
I smile at him sadly. “You’re the only father he will know,” I say softly. “He won’t remember Erik. Ingrid probably won’t either. And Ulf… he never even met him.”
“But they will call me Anders,” he tells me. “I will never take Erik’s place as their father.”
“You will,” I tell him as a tear rolls down my cheek. “It’s what he wanted. He wanted his children to have a father, even if it was not him. He picked you himself.”
“They can’t call me Father,” he says, shaking his head. “That will always be Erik.”
“Then they will call you Papa,” I suggest. “Yo
