She rarely saw such a candid expression from someone like him. Somewhat taken aback, she followed it with a gentle smile: "You promised—you won't forget."
Six words, like sweet honey, poured into Jun Mochan's heart.
"Baby, come here." Jun Mochan beckoned to the little figure watching him eagerly from the chair.
The little one climbed down from the chair, his short legs working hard as he ran as fast as he could to Jun Mochan's side, wrapping himself around his leg: "Daddy."
Jun Mochan held him in one arm and his phone in the other: "Baby, say hello to Mommy."
"Mama," he called out in a soft, childish voice, using a word he had never uttered before.
The young child, his features still undeveloped, carried traces of baby fat on his round, pink cheeks, making him irresistibly cute.
There were hints of Jun Mochan's likeness in his brows and eyes.
Is this her son?
The child she carried for ten months and gave birth to?
