He thought about how they hadn't really been close in a long time. Clearly, it had only been two months, but it felt like a year. Once you've savored something, it's hard to go back to deprivation. Yet here he was, suddenly back to his days of monk-like solitude. She was truly heartless—more ruthless than anyone he'd ever known.
But then, thinking about the terrible things he'd done, he couldn't deny that her heartlessness was justified. After all, it was their son—his own flesh and blood. Back then, his arrogance had nearly cost their son his life. In his heart, their son had already died once. The same mistake—he wouldn't allow it to happen again.
But it was clear she no longer trusted him.
How could he warm her heart again? How could he make her trust him again?
Even as thoughts like these churned in his mind, his face remained composed and serious, as if he hadn't even considered anything as intimate or vulnerable as those shared moments in bed.
