The Last Time I Cried Your Name novel Chapter 507

Watching his tiny hands grip the handles of the baby bottle, his little cheeks puffing in and out as he drank, she fought the urge to stroke his face. A soft smile graced her lips as she glanced up at Wendy Holt standing across from her.

Even behind Dr. Holt's surgical mask, her eyes crinkled with a warm smile. "He was looking toward the door the second he woke up this morning, before he could even keep his eyes open. He couldn't wait to see you."

Petty's heart melted. She lowered her head, resting her chin gently against the baby's soft hair.

Once he finished his milk, Petty took a tissue and carefully wiped his mouth. Abacus tilted his head up eagerly, squeezing his eyes shut to let her wipe his face, his tiny voice enunciating each syllable: "Ma... ma."

"Yes, baby," Petty cooed, pulling him into her arms once his face was clean.

Abacus rested his head against her shoulder, his little hand lightly scratching at the fabric of her protective suit.

"Mama... loves..."

Petty's chest tightened, and she hugged him a little closer. "Mama loves you too. Mama loves her baby so much."

From her shoulder, the sweet, milky voice spoke again: "Mama... loves..."

And then, his tiny hand lifted in the air.

Petty turned her head to see what he was pointing at.

Abacus was pointing at the photograph of Petty taped above his crib. Stumbling over the words, he managed to say, "Mama... loves... Papa."

Just as Petty registered the words, she noticed the man standing outside the glass door of the isolation room.

He had clearly heard what the baby said. His expression was unreadable behind his plastic face shield, but his fingers twitched into a loose fist.

"Papa!" Abacus spotted Franco. He kept his arms wrapped securely around Petty, his little head still resting on her shoulder, making no move to reach out for Franco to hold him.

Franco walked over to them. His large, warm hand stroked the baby's head through his protective gear. He deliberately softened his deep, magnetic voice. "Did you finish your bottle?"

"Done." Abacus pressed his cheek against Petty's shoulder, his little lips pouting as he spoke.

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