Lizetta happened to walk out of the bathroom and, seeing the lingering, faint smile on Remington's face, asked him curiously.
"What are you thinking about, smiling all to yourself?"
Remington gently rested his hand on her shoulder, his gaze sweeping tenderly over her picturesque features, a smile still playing on his lips.
"Baby, when Joy grows up a bit, how about we have a sweet little girl?"
His words carried a hint of anticipation and deep affection.
Hearing this, Lizetta raised an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Weren't you just heartbroken for me a few days ago, saying you couldn't bear to see me suffer through another pregnancy?"
Her voice held a mix of playful reproach and genuine confusion, finding his sudden change of heart both amusing and exasperating.
She arched her delicate brows in a moment that felt like a sweet interlude in their daily life—simple yet incredibly warm.
Even these brief, effortless exchanges filled Remington with a profound sense of joy and fulfillment.
He had just seen a soft, adorable little girl in the hallway, and turning back to see Lizetta looking so radiant and beautiful made him realize their daughter would undoubtedly take after her.
The thought of Lizetta as an obedient, endearing child sparked a sudden, overwhelming desire for a daughter.
But her teasing reminder instantly brought back the terrifying memory of Joy's birth.
The unstoppable hemorrhage, the doctor's grim warning that it was a close call—she had almost slipped away from him.
At that thought, his sudden yearning for a daughter vanished completely.
He quickly changed his tune.
"I really can't bear it. Forget it, let's not have any more. One child is perfectly fine."
If he wanted a daughter that badly, he could just buy some cute little dresses for Joy while he was still too young to understand.

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