Knowing it bothered her, Damian Fairchild blurted out, "No."
Seraphina Quinn pressed her lips together and said nothing.
She was exhausted.
So exhausted that she rested her head completely against Damian Fairchild's chest.
She listened to the beat of his heart, imagining their eventual end as strangers, and her own heart ached.
"Our son... does he look like me?"
Seeing that she was not only tired but also weighed down by her thoughts, Damian Fairchild switched to a lighter topic.
Seraphina Quinn looked up, meeting Damian Fairchild's deep, fervent gaze.
Her heart felt as if it had been struck by something heavy, a dull, indescribable pain.
Their son was already five years old, yet this man had only just learned of his existence.
'How pathetic we both are,' she thought.
"He looks just like you. Not like me at all!"
Their son's eyebrows were thick and full, just like Damian Fairchild's.
