"Good," he answered, without thinking, "because I would have felt horribly if you made any other decision. So the fact that you can't is of great relief, in some small capacity," he said. Remus rubbed his hands together, still staring down at the floor but now leaning over with his elbows on his knees. "I've known incidents where women have gone much longer ignoring the symptoms," he rationalized, "and in these times it would just be easier, I imagine, to pretend it doesn't exist. I don't think badly of you for that, believe me. But you should..." he started, part of his clearing his mind of emotion because it was easier to be logical, loyal Remus than emotional Remus.
"You should make sure that everything is medically... that I didn't..." he stammered, "See a healer, please, and make sure I didn't pass anything on to our child because I couldn't live with myself if I did. There are tests now for lycanthropy. Please... get them done. I can rest easy if I have the knowledge that," What? That their child would grow up to kill them one day? Yes, that thought was right there at the front of his mind... "that I haven't put you in any danger."
He took another deep breath and went to reach for his cigarettes before pausing, swearing and clasping his hands back together again. "I may not be a great father," he said, "but I will try to be a good one, at least."