Deirdre froze before jeering, “Aww, I feel so bad for you, Mr. Brighthall. Spending quality time with Charlene must have exhausted you, but duty compelled you to carry on pretending to be a good father by escorting me to this insignificant check-up!”

Brendan stiffened. His lips parted as though he wanted to say something before giving up. “I’ll carry you into the car.”

“Oh, no need to trouble yourself with me.” Deirdre pulled the coat over herself, her hostility palpable, and made her way slowly to the car as much as her sight could offer her. She took the passenger seat.

The journey was a silent one. Could anyone believe just how these two would unconsciously hold hands together a few days ago whenever they stopped at a traffic light?

They reached the hospital without a hitch, and the procedure began. The ultrasound quickly revealed the child to his parents—Brendan felt his palm sweating at the sight. It was just hard to imagine how small their baby was. It was not even 9cm long.