Resent Reject Regret by Aqua Summers novel Chapter 201

Chapter 201 A Bawling Child

She finally got to let out the chest–wringing breath she had been holding in since Bliss‘ death. She had felt it–the puppy pushing its face close to hers, whimpering with her as she sobbed.

It was consoling her. She imagined that was what Bliss would have done too.

Deirdre cast her eyes to the ground. The storm clouds that had seemed to be permanent on her mien faded, and Brendan was the sole witness of her subtle transformation.

While he managed to observe Deirdre’s change, he was blind to his own. The trademark severity in his visage had softened into meek, wistful joy.

They walked for a while until, suddenly, Deirdre stopped. Brendan almost lost her, but he paused and turned around. “What’s wrong?”

She scanned her surroundings with a frown. “A child’s crying.”

“A child?” Brendan was a little surprised. They were at the fork of a busy street flooded with couples and office workers going about their day. There was not a single child in sight.

“Could it be some kind of hallucination?”

“No, I’m sure of it!” Deirdre bit her lip. “It’s definitely the sound of a kid crying!”

Her senses had adapted to the disadvantage of her sight through evolved hearing acuity. “It sounds muffled, but it’s definitely nearby!”

Brendan perused his surroundings until, finally, he stared at the car next to them and inhaled sharply. A baby–about a year old at most–was locked inside. She was bathed in sweat as she bawled, her skin an unnatural shade of pink–red.

“In here! A baby’s locked in a car!” He described the situation to her.

Deirdre’s anxiety turned into panic. She leaned close to the window and heard the baby’s cries amplify. She could tell the child was running out of strength, and her face paled. “I don’t think the baby could hang in there much longer, Brendan! Do you see the parents around?”

“No.” Brendan removed his cardigan and wrapped it around his elbow. He motioned to Deirdre, telling her to step aside, and hurled a jab at the window.

Brendan was trying to cover his bleeding arm when he saw them. The color in his eyes died a little as his mind raced with all sorts of emotions. He willed himself to rise above his mental furor and commented, ” Looks like the baby likes you. She’s about to fall asleep.”

“Is she?” Deirdre echoed, her shoulders slumping a little, just like her spirit. “M–Must be a coincidence. She must be tired after crying for so long. Honestly, though?” She laughed self–deprecatingly. “She’s a brave baby, isn’t she? Didn’t even burst into tears after seeing my face.”

Brendan furrowed his brows. “What’s wrong with your face? It’s still beautiful.”

They both stiffened.

The corner of Deirdre’s lips went up ever so slightly. “What’s the matter with you? You haven’t been acting like yourself today.”

Or rather, he had not been acting like Brendan Brighthall.

Brendan would be hard–pressed to mention his nightmare, nor would he have the courage to confess to the whirlwind of conflicting emotions warring in his mind. As if to overcompensate for his softer attitude, he said coldly, “I was just telling the truth.”