Ernest went back to his letter, but it didn't really feel like he was actually writing to them anymore. They'd always be missing, always be separate. And it really fucking hurt. He felt like he had to grieve for them, but it wasn't as if they were dead. They were living their life, completely unaware that their father was anywhere else, missing them, writing to them. But it wasn't enough to stop him feeling guilty.
He loved them dearly, but to go back to that life after seeing how good life could really be? He couldn't do it. He couldn't live with that emptiness again. It was Abi he wanted, it was his life here, even if it hurt to be without his babies. He looked back to the photograph, searching their faces and trying to make sure he would never forget them like this, smiling in the Florida sun.
Picking up the pen once more, he finished the letter. I love you both more than you could possibly imagine, but I'm not going to be able to come home. I'll miss you always, and I'm sorry. I hope that one day you'll be able to understand. He paused, and then smiled with slight amusement as he added, You're always welcome to come to me, I'll be here for you with open arms. No matter where I am, I'll always be - your Papa.