Proserpina

I looked into the grey eyes of my lover, the love of my life, my husband.

He was studying me, his eyes filled with a soft, wondering expression. A look I had never seen on his face before.

I sat, perched comfortably on his lap, surrounded by my children. Resting my head against his shoulder, I sighed in contentment.

Little Claude had waddled over and was keeping a small plump fist on my thigh, to proclaim that I was HIS mom and not anyone else’s. Piers ...