Unbreakable threads

Chapter seventy: Alyssa Storms off

Her words hit Daryl like a slap, and for a moment, he was silent, his anger simmering beneath the surface but unable to reply to her. Beth's chest heaved as she stared at him, her expression a mix of anger and hurt. "You're supposed to love her, Daryl," she said, her voice quieter now, but no less intense. "You're supposed to protect her. And instead, you've made her feel like she's got no one."

Daryl's fists clenched, his face twisted with a mixture of anger and heartache he couldn't contain. "You're just a dumb, stupid kid!" he shouted, his voice raw and filled with a pain he didn't know how to express. "And now I'm stuck here with you!"

The words hung in the air, harsh and cutting, but as soon as they left his mouth, Daryl felt a pang of regret, a gut-wrenching ache that twisted his insides. He was angry, frustrated, but none of it was really Beth's fault. He knew that deep down.

He felt his heart breaking, splintering with each passing second as he remembered the look on Alyssa's face when she'd told him she loved him last night. Now She'd run off into the darkness, alone, and the last words he'd spoken to her were filled with rejection, telling her she wasn't his daughter when he knew damn well he felt differently.

Daryl's anger evaporated as quickly as it had come, melting away into something far more vulnerable, something raw and exposed that he rarely let anyone see. The rage in his eyes softened, his shoulders slumping. His face twisted with sorrow, and before he could stop it, a tear slipped down his cheek, followed by another.

Beth stood there, frozen, unsure of what to do. She had never seen Daryl cry—not once. The sight of it was jarring, unsettling. This was the man who had always been the rock, the one who stayed strong no matter what, the one who had stood firm through every hardship they'd faced. But now, he looked... shattered..

Daryl let out a choked sob, covering his face with his hands as he staggered slightly, his body trembling. "I messed it all up, Beth," he mumbled, his voice thick with regret and self-loathing was . "She... she told me she loved me, and I threw it all back in her face. I pushed her away... told her she wasn't... wasn't my daughter." His voice cracked, the words spilling out like a confession, heavy with pain and guilt.

Daryl looked up, his tear-streaked face filled with a vulnerability that made him seem almost like a child, lost and broken. "She's all I got, Beth," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "She's... she's like family. And now she's gone." The realization hit him anew, the pain of it twisting in his chest, and he let out another quiet sob, his defenses crumbling completely.

Beth tightened her grip on his shoulder, her own eyes misting with tears as she whispered, "We'll find her, Daryl. She just needs time... she'll come back. She knows you love her, even if you didn't say it right."

In the midst of his breaking, with the weight of the alcohol and sorrow pressing down on him, Daryl looked at Beth, his eyes glassy and filled with a sadness that went beyond just the events of the night.

"My old man... he was a drunk," he said, each word laced with bitterness and pain. "Mean bastard. Never gave a damn about me. I was nothin' to him... just some kid in the way." He looked down, his hands trembling slightly as he continued. "Merle... Merle got out as soon as he could. Took off, left me there. I had to fend for myself, takin' the beatin's and the scraps, just... just tryin' to get by. Ain't nobody ever cared. Not really."

Beth's heart ached as she listened. She could hear the years of pain, of neglect and loneliness woven into his voice, the scars left by a life that had offered him nothing but hardship. She'd known Daryl was rough around the edges, but she hadn't known the depth of what he'd endured before the world ended. Now, hearing it, she could see why he'd struggled to connect, why love didn't come easy to him.