His gaze shifted to Alexis.
âShe looks a lot like you as a child.
â
Alexis just smiled, offering no reply.
Leonel felt a pang of disappointment.
Then, Cordelia started bawling.
Her face flushed, legs kicking furiously.
Leonel scooped her up, checking her diaper with one hand.
It was dry.
Glancing at Alexis, he suggested, âSheâs hungry, maybe?â
His remark hung in the air, awkward.
Theyâd been divorced a while and baby talk was touchy.
Three days post-birth, Alexis began breastfeeding the baby.
At Leonelâs words, Alexis murmured, âBring her over.
â
Leonelâs heart raced as he handed the crying baby over.
Their hands brushed and this was a rare touch after so long.
He hadnât felt her touch in ages.
Even through fabric, it stirred something within him.
âAlexis,â he whispered.
She cradled the baby tenderly.
Pausing, she said softly, âYou can head back.
Iâve said what I needed to.
â
They stood close, their baby nestled between them.
Leonel dr@ped an arm over her shoulder, leaning in.
âAlexis, please.
Give us another shot.
I wonâtâ¦â
His words trailed off.
Alexis had stiffened under his touch, resisting his closeness.
Turned out, even after almost a year, Alexis hadnât forgotten the pain of her time in Geveland and Merblune.
She hadnât moved on, let alone forgiven him.
Leonel felt a pang of sadness.
He backed off, releasing her gently.
âYou take care of the baby.
Iâll go.
â
Alexis stayed silent, waiting for him to leave.
With a final glance at the baby, Leonel retreated.
The VIP ward corridor was hushed.
Each step in his leather shoes grated on him.
Eventually, he couldnât bear it.