Time froze. My lips hung low, parted. My palms are sweaty. My heart aches.

He's my son after all. The child I can not face yet.

Between a fiery glare from Diana, and a lopsided grin from Roman, my feet nailed to the ground.

I'm not prepared for this.

It's not about Roman or Diana. 

It's because of him.

Those blue ringed eyes glistening with an intense look, like a silent accusation of my sin against him. Yet, they carried the longing I couldn't put into words.

Desire for acceptance, ...