I stepped closer, my hand brushing his shoulder. “Because you’re my son. That’s not something you ever let go.”
He nodded and let me pull him in. He was taller than me now, broad through the shoulders, nothing like the little boy I’d last held in my kitchen doorway. But when his arms came around me, something inside me recognized him instantly.
As I held him, I felt the old locket pressed between us, and for the first time in fifteen years, it finally felt like it had done its job.
“Because you’re my son.”
Leave a Comment