[ The breath pushes out of him, an almost full-body motion, at that question. ]

I...

[ He'd spent years trying to reconcile with the loss of what never was. There was never going to be a soft-haired, blue-eyed baby for Maelle to coo over; he was never going to look into a brand-new face and try to find the ways his features and Sophie's blended together. He lifts his hand to rub his temple for a moment, head shaking slightly to the side, submitting to the truth. ]

...Yes. Very much.

[ Two daughters and a son; treasures beyond his wildest imagining. And lost, all lost. He wonders if any of them are still here, tucked gently into the landscape, their bodies smooth stone. ]

But my... the woman I was with...

Sophie.

[ Still said softly. The bruise of this grief is still blooming. ]

She... disagreed on the... morality of bringing a child into this world.