The young baby swaddled tightly in his arms remained sound asleep.
Bash observed its tiny, pink face, as he gazed at the newborn intently. A few years ago, he would not have thought he would be carrying a child in his arms, but here he was now, basking in the moment. Adèle sat across him, watching him as he poured all of his attention towards the newborn child that he held so close to him. She was drowning in a plethora of mixed emotions.
Seeing Bash beginning to grow so fond of children was a pleasant sight, as Adèle had not thought he would want to care for a child as much as he did now. She was happy, but her face told a different story. Adèle fumbled around with her fingers nervously, making sure Bash would not see the frown that had set itself upon her lips ever since Bash asked to hold the child in his arms.
When he turned his face to glance and smile at her in excitement, Adèle was forced to put on a strained smile.
In truth, she was saddened by the sight, everlastingly so.
For you see, the child was not Bash's.
And nor was it Adèle's. She had failed to birth a healthy baby, and now they sought after another woman's child to adopt, to replace the child they never had.. and could never have.