"You sleep next to Mom, if your sister wakes up and doesn't find you, she'll probably fuss again..."
"Then let her fuss."
Prince Huang muttered, his words revealing the little guy's bit of melancholy.
"Mom..."
"Hmm?"
"Are you really not talking to Dad on the phone?"
When Prince Huang said this, his voice suddenly dropped to silence. Su Xiaomeng hurriedly leaned down to take a closer look, only to see the little guy raising his hand to wipe his eyes.
He was actually... crying.
"..."
Su Xiaomeng's heart tightened, but she couldn't find any words of comfort.
In this three-year-old boy's heart, the disappearance of his father became an unhealable wound.
He missed him all the time, thought about him constantly...
Everyone hoped time would make him slowly forget, saying that at three years old, children don't remember much and everything would be fine after some time...
But Prince Huang wasn't like other kids.
