John couldn't take his eyes from the small baby clothes. they made him sick to guts, as adorable they were, these tiny clothes gave him a guilt beyond imagination.

then there was you; pregnant like a fresh peach, showing him more clothes, asking for his opinion about the baby that wasn't his and yet he felt too much responsibility to let go. in his eyes, he was the reason that your husband, baby's father was gone.

John couldn't protect another soldier and again, he had blood on his hands. blood of a soon to be father, guilt of the feelings he had towards the widow, you. when your husband sacrificed himself in war, his captain stepped in for you; and these days... there was no going back.

"We can buy them all deary, don't worry."