"Mm, we have Robert, Robert is our son!"
Daxton Lancaster buried his face in Violet Zimmerman's shoulder, his tone firm.
After a long while he finally lifted it, and Violet clearly heard the sound of him inhaling.
Daxton gently patted Violet's shoulder. "Violet, let's sleep too. Put Robert on the side, the bed is big enough, the three of us can sleep together as a family."
"Okay."
It wasn't that late yet, only eight o'clock. Daxton was already lying on the bed with his arm around Violet, and right beside the couple, Robert Lancaster was sleeping soundly.
The light in the room was off, half the window was covered by the curtains, and the moon hanging on the willow branches cast a cold vertical shaft of light inside.
Daxton's arm was tucked under Violet's neck, his other hand interlaced with hers. The couple lay there together, gazing at the moon outside the window—something that had never happened before.
