Chapter 3: Regrets and Responsibilities

"So, you know how to regret it now?"

"I…"

Before I could finish, he cut me off. "Too late."

He set down the bottle and suddenly stepped closer, his warm breath brushing my cheek.

"Rachel Carter, after dumping me, you must feel pretty accomplished, huh?"

Suddenly, I remembered when we first got together five years ago—when he kissed me, when he got close, it was this same searing heat.

That unforgettable face was right in front of me, and my heart ached.

The atmosphere suddenly became tense.

Just then, the water was ready, and I pushed him away, quickly making the formula.

Looking at the baby wailing, I really wanted to punch his dad.

If this kid keeps crying, I’ll probably get a complaint tomorrow.

I made the formula and fed the baby skillfully, all in one go.

Mark stood beside me, staring at me silently.

This was a sign he was in a really bad mood. When we used to argue, he was like this. It would take a hundred kisses from me to coax him back.

I lowered my eyes. But now, I no longer have that right…

Suddenly, a foul smell drifted over.

Mark and I looked at each other, both realizing what had happened.

Mark’s face darkened, his expression grim.

Remembering Mark’s severe cleanliness obsession, I hurried back to the room to get a diaper.

When I returned to the on-call room, Mark had already undone the stinky kid’s diaper.

I meekly said, "Um, he pooped. I need to change him."

He instinctively reached for a cigarette, but seeing me, irritably put it away.

"I’m not blind."

I kindly reminded him, but he took my kindness as provocation, which made me mad. His face looked so sour.

All I did was fetch some bottled water and change the baby’s diaper on his bed. Did he have to be so petty?

"If you mind, just go out for a bit, then."

He gritted his teeth and glared at me. "Rachel Carter, please remember, this is my on-call room."

"Fine, fine, I know this is your on-call room. If you want to smell it, stay here and smell it."

I tore open the packaging, but Mark suddenly snatched it away. "I’ll do it."

"Do you even know how?"

"Shut up."

I obediently shut my mouth and watched him clumsily but gently change the baby’s diaper. His large hand carefully supported the baby’s little bottom, then wiped him clean with warm water.

Maybe the scene was too touching, but my heart felt like it had been struck.

After changing the diaper, the baby felt comfortable and stopped fussing, falling asleep quietly on Mark’s bed.

The soft pink baby slept soundly with eyes closed, and my whole heart instantly felt warm.

The air suddenly became quiet. I fiddled with the hem of my shirt, feeling Mark’s cold gaze and a bit uneasy.

"Rachel."

"What?"

"These five years, have you ever regretted it, even for a minute?"

He sat in the chair, and I didn’t know if it was my imagination, but his eyes looked red.

I washed the bottle, set it on the table, and looked into his deep eyes.

"Yes. You’re handsome, successful, and talented. I regretted it long ago."

I thought he’d be satisfied with this answer. After all, nothing is more satisfying than seeing your ex regret dumping you to the point of heartbreak.

But unexpectedly, he got angry, shoved the baby and the bottle into my hands, and kicked me out.

"Are you just looking for a stepdad for your son, planning to kick me away again when the kid grows up?"

Me, kicked out: …

Heaven knows, I really didn’t mean that.

I left the on-call room, my cheeks burning, my arms full of Mason. The hallway was quiet except for the buzz of the vending machines, and somewhere down the hall a nurse laughed at something on her phone. I felt like a reality TV star who’d just been voted off the show—humiliated, exposed, and carrying way too much baggage.