The infant shifted once more.
She instinctively swayed gently, murmuring quiet comforts through her weeping.
The man observed, his look transforming—from shock to remorse… to something different.
Regret.
Heavy, stifling regret.
“I should’ve been there,” he said softly.
Stacy did not answer.
Because a part of her felt the same.
And a part of her didn’t wish to hear it anymore.
A silence expanded between them.
Not empty—but dense. Loaded with everything left unsaid, everything they had forfeited, everything that could never return to what it once was.
