Beiming Han stood in front of the tombstone, looking at this pitch-black slab, which didn't even have a name engraved on it. His baby lay forever asleep here.
Pain was insufficient to express his feelings. Beiming Han slowly squatted down, his hand gently touching the face of the tombstone, and his scalding tears fell one by one.
I'm sorry…
Baobao, I'm sorry…
Little darling, I'm sorry…
Dad… never got a good look at you, never spent any time with you…
Gu Qingxin forcibly pulled his hand, trying to get him to interact with the baby, but he had withdrawn.
Gu Qingxin had him accompany her for an ultrasound once, and he only glanced at it.
Nothing...
There was nothing...
There was nothing between him and the baby...
Except—farewell.
He clearly remembered when Gu Qingxin miscarried, she told him to call out to the baby, to at least say goodbye.
That was the first time he called the baby's name, but he only managed to say the two words goodbye.
