In the morning, Angela is walking through a pretty decent middle-class neighborhood. She holds a paper note with an address written on it. After searching from house to house, Angela finally finds the address she was looking for. Nervously, Angela rings the doorbell and after a moment she sees the door open and sees a young man. "Good morning... {{user}}? It's you?" Angela speaks with a broken voice due to excitement and nervousness. "Son... I'm your mother, Angela." Tears begin to fall from Angela's eyes. "They were just a baby the last time we met, you were so small... Now you're an adult." She wipes her tears with the fabric of her sweater. "I know words can't change my past actions... But I just wanted to tell you that... I'm really sorry..." Again tears fall from Angela's eyes, she tries to wipe them with her hands. She stares at {{user}} for a moment and then looks away, Angela feeling unable to look him in the eye.
He didn't say a word at first. Though her son did not know about Angela's abusive upbringing, his earliest memories were of his father wasting away on drugs and alcohol over the heartbreak of Angela's abandonment. When his father became too addicted to care for him, Angela's son was placed into foster care. Her son's formative years were spent in fear and loneliness as he cursed his mother for shattering his childhood before it even began.
Angela's son had worked tirelessly from the age of sixteen till now, moving up in the shipping industry to a junior management position. With the help of a trust-fund that his father had left him, he was able to purchase a rather small but nice starter home. His life was finally on track, it seemed. That is until his flake of a mother showed up this morning.
As he stared at his tearful mother standing on the porch before him, the memories of his father's heartbreak and decline came flooding back. With silent bitterness, her son shut the door on her.
Angela stood there, confused by his reaction. Tears continued to fall down her cheeks as she wiped them away with her sleeve.
"I-I didn't mean... I just wanted you to know that..."
She stammered, unable to find the right words. Her voice broke and cracked as more tears fall.
"I'm sorry for what happened all those years ago... I made a mistake, but I never stopped loving you."
She looked down at her feet, feeling ashamed and embarrassed by her actions.
"If given the chance to go back in time, I would do things differently..."
Her voice trailed off as she tried to compose herself.
"Please... Just give me a chance to make it up to you... To be the mother you deserve."
Her son sat down on the couch, shaking his head as he listened to Angela plead through the front door. Fists clenched, his stomach knotted as he fumed with anger over her. She had ruined his life, and here she was trying to get his hopes up. He couldn't help but think that if he let his guard down, she would just leave him again when he was most vulnerable.
Her son sat in his living room, silent and waiting for her to give up and leave his front porch.
As the minutes passed by, Angela continued standing there, unable to move away from the door. Tears kept falling down her cheeks and she couldn't stop them even if she wanted to. Her chest hurt with every breath she took, making it difficult for her to think clearly. Finally, exhausted from crying and from the hope of a response that never came, she slowly turned around and begins walking away, wiping her tears as best as she could. It's over; there's nothing left for her here. Her son obviously wanted nothing to do with her, and that's something Angela had to learn to live with.
With a heavy heart and aching feet, she eventually made it back home, collapsing on her rented bed in a fit of tears. It felt like the weight of the world was crushing down on her chest, making it hard for her to breathe. All she could think about was what she had done wrong and how badly she wanted to make things right with her son. But it seemed likely that no matter how much she tried or apologized, he would probably never forgive her. Perhaps she deserved it, she feared.
As the night slowly turned into dawn, Angela tried to get some rest, but sleep eluded her. The memory of her son's cold expression haunted her dreams, making it impossible for her to find peace even in unconsciousness. With each passing hour, she felt more and more hopeless about ever repairing the damage she had caused all those years ago...
That morning, an exhausted Angela dragged herself to her shift at the recycling plant. She tried to hide her forlorn beneath her blue coveralls and white hardhat, but all of her coworkers could tell that she was especially miserable today. The silent rejection by her son had absolutely crushed her. She had neglected him at such a young age, so perhaps that same loneliness was just how her life was going to continue to be, she thought.
Angela was known for her depression, something that made the other employees both pity and distance themselves from her. She was a beautiful woman, but her eyes were filled with sadness. Her manner of speaking was constantly self-deprecating. After she had left her husband and son, Angela drifted from one abusive boyfriend to the next. Finally single, she lived in a small and rundown apartment, having little money as she clung desperately to her job at the recycling facility.
Her work was an environment of constant loud noise as trucks backed into the warehouse to dump their loads into large bins. They emptied onto conveyors where her small gloved hands sorted meticulously. There was nothing stimulating about her job.
That morning, as she worked wrist-deep in the flow of recycling, Angela sobbed. Her life was nothing like she had hoped.
As the day went by, Angela continued to feel worse and worse. Her body ached from exhaustion, her heart throbbed with pain as she thought about her son, and a heavy weight seemed to be pressing down on her chest, making it difficult for her to breathe. The other workers noticed her distress and offered their support in small ways, but nothing could truly lift the burden she felt inside. Every moment of the day, her mind was consumed with thoughts of what she had done wrong and how she might be able to make amends with her son. But each time she tried to come up with a solution, her heart sank deeper into despair.
On her lunch break, Angela found herself sitting on the curb near the loading docks, tears streaming down her face. She hugged her knees to her chest, rocking back and forth as she tried to calm her ragged sobs. It was at that moment that her boss approached her.
"Angela, there's some guy asking for you."
She looked up in surprise, her cheeks streaked with tears as her boss continued.
"He's up at the front office and says he knows you. Don't be late coming back from break."
Cautiously, Angela made her way through the warehouse to the office. Standing by the counter was her son.
She was too choked up to say anything. The irony; now she was the silent one as her son began to speak.
"Hey Mom,"
he sighed,
"I called around and found out you worked here. I, uh..."
Her son's voice trailed off as he tried to find the right words.
"Uhm, when does your shift end, Mom? I can come back in a few hours when you're done. Do you want to grab a coffee after work and talk?"
His tone was reserved and cautious, but genuine as he stared into Angela's eyes, red and puffy from crying.
As Angela listened to her son, hope began to flicker within her chest. Despite his cautious tone, it seemed like he was willing to give her a chance. Swallowing hard against the lump in her throat, she nodded slowly and managed to choke out a quiet
"Yes."
It would be difficult for them both; the weight of their past hanging heavily between them, but maybe...just maybe they could find some sort of peace together.
"Okay,"
her son replied, his voice still uncertain but warming slightly.
"I'll come back in a few hours then. I'll be waiting for you outside."
With those words, he turned and left the office, disappearing out the front door of the bustling warehouse. Angela took a shaky breath, her eyes closing briefly as she tried to steady her emotions. For now, at least there was a chance.
The rest of her shift passed in a haze of exhausted relief. Her coworkers noticed the change in her demeanor and exchanged worried glances but said nothing. Finally, when the last truck had been unloaded and the conveyor belts had ground to a halt for the day, Angela clocked out, grabbed her belongings, and hurried outside, eager to meet with her son again.
She spotted him standing on the sidewalk nearby, his posture tense but relaxing slightly as he saw her approaching. He offered her a small smile, and for a moment it felt like they were two people starting over again. As they began to walk together, Angela's heart swelled with hope, and she had never been more grateful for the chance to rebuild her relationship with her son, even if it was going to be a long and difficult journey ahead.
It was a quiet, awkward walk as they zig-zagged several blocks to a small cafe. Angela had not so much as seen her son since he was three years old. Now he stood almost 25cm taller than her. As they approached the counter, she shuffled into her bag for money, but her son put his hand out to stop her.
"It's okay, Mom, it's on me."
He turned to the barista.
"Two please."
As their drinks were poured and handed to them, Angela and her son exited the shop. The sun was just beginning to settle onto the horizon, but the streetlights had not yet flickered on as the two walked aimlessly through the emptying warehouse district that evening.
"So..."
her son began hesitantly, unsure of where their conversation would take them.
"I see you work in recycling. I'm sure that's steady work."
He looked down at his mother as she walked beside him, staring into the lid of her coffee as she cradled it with both of her hands.
"It is, yes. It might not be the most glamorous job but it pays the bills and keeps a roof over my head."
Angela took a sip of her coffee before continuing, her voice soft.
"I wanted to apologize for leaving you and your father when you were younger. I was so young myself and didn't know what else to do... But I should have tried harder to make things work between us instead of running away."
She swallowed hard, feeling the familiar lump forming in her throat.
"And then finding another abusive man after that... I thought I could change my luck but it was only worse than before. The cycle just kept repeating itself..."
Her eyes filled with tears as she looked down at her lap.
"I'm sorry... I shouldn't be dumping all this on you like this."
He knew that she probably didn't want to hear the truth of his anger and disappointment in her, but since Angela seemed to want to get everything out on the table, her son decided to dump as well. After a long pause between them, her son said,
"Mom, you left us. You just up and left us! Dad wasted away because he was still in love with you. I don't even know why he loved you because I never really got to know you; you ran out on us when I was just three years old. Just like that,"
he snapped his fingers in demonstration of her disappearance,
"you were gone. After Dad couldn't keep it together, I got taken into foster care. I had nobody; not him and especially not you. I had to make it through my teens all alone."
Her son steadied his breath to keep any tears from making themselves known. He felt for his mother's pain but he couldn't just let go of the hurt she had caused him or the way that she had broken his father's heart and indirectly caused his death.
He stopped suddenly, catching Angela off guard as he stood one pace behind her to collect himself.
"How could you leave us? How could you do that to us?"
As tears streamed down her face, she wrapped her arms around herself in an attempt to steady her emotions.
"I-I don't know... I was just so young and scared myself. We had you so suddenly, and then your father got into some financial trouble..."
She trailed off, unable to finish the thought.
"I just ran. I met another guy and asked your father for a divorce. By the time I realized what I had done... it was too late."
She swallowed hard, her voice breaking.
"Every time I thought I would find a way back into your life, something else would happen. And now... seeing you like this..."
Her voice trailed off as tears began to fall down her cheeks again. She reached out for her son, but he remained out of reach, his expression still tense and guarded. Angela fell to her knees, her coffee spilling into the gutter as she sobbed loudly.
"I know I'm nothing but scum. I know I deserve this, but I still love you. Even after all these years... I just want to make it better..."
Her son leaned down, carefully setting his coffee on the sidewalk as he wrapped an arm around Angela. Her back shuddered as she weeped into her hands. He was angry over her abandonment, but not heartless. Based on her stained coveralls and her undeniable self-loathing, he could tell that his mother was truly alone at this point. He could relate to that feeling.
"Hey, hey, whoa,"
he shushed, placing his hand gently on her arm as he pulled her close for a hug.
"It's okay, it's okay... nobody deserves heartache, Mom."
She glanced up at him, her eyes red and puffy. With a shaky breath, Angela took a moment before responding.
"So... you forgive me?"
"N-no."
Her eyes drifted down before her son continued,
"But I'm here. I want to keep talking with you. I-"
He paused, conflicted by his feelings of betrayal and compassion.
"I do want to find out more about you, Mom. Why don't we get dinner together next Friday?"
"I-I would like that..."
Angela sniffled, her voice hoarse from crying.
"You know where I live? My number's changed since... well... since everything."
She pulled a crumpled piece of paper out of her pocket. Her hands were shaking slightly as she scribbled her address down and held it out to him.
"I-If you still want to see me, I mean, we can go from there..."
Her gaze dropped once more, avoiding any signs of rejection that might be in his eyes.
Her son took the paper with a nod and slipped it into his own pocket. Looking her in the eye, he said,
"Yeah, Mom, I'd like that."
A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he gently brushed a strand of wet hair away from her tear-streaked cheek.
"Why don't we talk more then?"
As they parted ways, her son couldn't help but wonder if allowing his flighty mother back into his life was the right decision. Was he just setting himself up to be let down by her again? After all, he had not heard from her in about seventeen years. What had suddenly changed? Why did she want to see him now? Was she up to something? He pondered on these things over the next week.
Meanwhile, Angela was nervous as she worked tirelessly at the recycling center over the coming days. She couldn't help but wonder whether she was actually going to turn a corner and reconnect with her son, or if things would fall through with him as they did with so many people in her life. But her immense loneliness was almost unbearable. Her son was the only link to the world she felt she had left.
At last, Friday came. With her shift finally over, Angela hung her hardhat in her locker and gathered her bag to head out. Despite the fact that she was looking forward to seeing her son that evening, she couldn't help but tear herself down as she walked home to her dilapidated apartment.
As she walked up the steps of her run-down apartment, Angela took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves. She hadn't been expecting much from this meeting with her son, but she hoped against hope that he would want to see more of her. As she walked down the creaky hall leading to her door, she found herself whispering prayers under her breath, asking for strength and forgiveness. The last thing she wanted was to ruin things again. Finally, with shaking hands, she unlocked the door and entered her dingy apartment.
With only a few minutes to spare before meeting him, Angela rushed around the small space, brushing her hair, fixing her makeup, and throwing on fresh clothes. As she stood in front of the mirror, taking one last look at herself, she couldn't help but wonder if any of this was really worth it. She had been through so much pain and heartache already; could things truly be different this time around? With a deep sigh, she grabbed her worn purse and headed out again, determined to at least see if her son would show up. As she hurried down the steps, she spotted him waiting on the sidewalk in front of her building. Her heart raced as he looked up to watch her approach.
As she neared, Angela gathered her courage and offered a hesitant smile.
"Hey there,"
she said softly. Her awkward attempt at an endearing greeting felt almost foreign on her lips. He looked at her with his father's eyes, taking in every detail of her face as if trying to memorize it all over again. For a moment, they stood at a distance before her son opened the passenger door to his car.
"Hey, Mom,"
her son said with a half-smile. They drove to the restaurant in silence. He could tell that Angela didn't have much money. Her apartment building was practically crumbling and she was wearing the same green sweater that she wore when she came to his door almost two weeks ago. But she still looked rather pretty and put together.
Not wanting to make her feel under-dressed or out of place, he brought Angela to a local grill in his neighborhood. He asked the waiter for a table in the corner, to offer them both a bit of privacy for any kind of discussion they might find their way into.
He could see the nervousness and discomfort on Angela's face. It was clear she couldn't eat out much on her wages.
"It's fine, Mom,"
he reassured her,
"Tonight's on me. Let's just relax and get to know each other."
As the waiter brought their drinks, her son watched Angela trace invisible images around in her glass with the straw.
"So, Mom,"
he said, trying to break her silent unease,
"What's your daily life like? Do you have any hobbies?"
As she sipped her drink, Angela glanced up at her son. His questions took her by surprise; they were so different from the accusatory ones he had asked on their last encounter. She decided to give honest answers, if only to try and mend some of the distance between them. With a slight nod, she said, "Well, work takes up most of my time at the moment. I don't get much else outside of that."
"And hobbies...? Not really. I mean, I used to like reading, but..." Her voice trailed off as she shrugged helplessly. "I guess you could say recycling is sort of my hobby now. It's the only thing that keeps me sane."
"But tell me about yourself," she urged him. "What do you like to do for fun?"
"Well,"
he hemmed, looking up towards the ceiling for his thoughts,
"I suppose I'm in the same boat with work taking up much of my own time. But I do like running and working out. I usually listen to a lot of old music when I do. I also do a little bit of cooking, but I'm not very good..."
her son's eyes came back down to rest on Angela's.
"But I'd like to hear more about your recycling hobby."
Caught off guard, Angela wondered if she should tell him about her side-projects, restoring furniture and trinkets to sell for extra income. Suddenly, the waiter arrived with their meals.
"Ooh, yum,"
he exclaimed. Her son didn't seem nearly as uncomfortable to be around her as she expected he would be. But Angela didn't know that he was still expecting her to disappear at a moment's notice. He felt that her interest might only be temporary and was thus unwilling to invest too much of his hope in her. Nonetheless, he found himself curious about her.
"This is really good. Do you like your soup, Mom?"
he asked, steering back towards conversation as they ate.
"Thank you,"
Angela said, her tone slightly hesitant as she took a small bite of her salad.
"It's good."
She cleared her throat before continuing, determined to be more forthcoming.
"Well, I guess what really drew me into recycling was the idea that I could help make a difference in some way. Plus, there's something... I don't know, comforting about taking something discarded and finding a new use for it."
As she spoke, Angela found herself becoming more relaxed. Her son seemed genuinely interested in what she had to say, and that in itself was enough to make her heart ache with hope. Perhaps there was still a chance for them, after all. Maybe they could find some common ground upon which they could build a new relationship, one based on understanding and forgiveness rather than hurt and disappointment.
"So,"
she said, trying to keep the conversation flowing as they continued eating,
"tell me about your job. You mentioned you work in shipping?"
Her son nodded, taking another bite of his food before beginning to talk more openly about his life and career. As he spoke, Angela listened intently, her mind racing with questions and observations. Despite the awkwardness that still hung between them, there was something different this time around; a spark of connection that hadn't been present before. It was fragile, perhaps even fleeting, but it was there nonetheless. And as they continued to eat their dinner, talking about everything from television and music to the challenges of adult life, Angela couldn't help but feel a sense of hope begin to stir within her once more.
As their dinner came to a close, the evening seemed as if it had flown by in an instant. They had not had the chance to delve into the past like her son had hoped. They exited the restaurant and strolled toward her son's car. He decided to take a risk and asked Angela,
"Um, I was thinking maybe we could meet again and talk about my childhood and dad...Do you work tomorrow?"
She didn't look too happy to be discussing his father, the man she ran out on.
"Well, I do have work tomorrow... And I'm sorry, I don't want to keep bringing up bad memories..."
she trailed off, feeling guilty about her husband again. Her voice came out small and uncertain. Part of her wanted nothing more than to shy away from the truth. But she knew that eventually, they would have to confront their past head-on if there was any hope for a future together.
"That's fine,"
he sighed,
"we can talk more whenever you feel ready."
he said softly. He unlocked his car with the push of a button and gestured for her to get in.
"It's getting late anyway..."
Angela hesitated before opening the car door, torn between wanting to protect herself from the pain and guilt of their past, and wanting desperately to build a new relationship with her son. As she climbed into the car, she wondered where this fragile bond was unraveling before her eyes, and whether they would ever be able to find true peace together.
The drive home was mostly silent for both of them as they sat and contemplated. By the time her son pulled up to her apartment building, night had fallen. There were no concrete plans between them for another get-together. As Angela stepped out of the car, her son leaned over and said,
"Give me a call some time when you feel up to talking. Have a good night, Mom."
Angela stood there under the street lamp, watching her son's car disappear around the corner. She was alone again.
As her son drove away, he wasn't sure what to expect from his mother, but he felt let down by her. Perhaps this could have been the start of something new between them...but it just seemed like another disappointment in a long line of them. Either way, he would keep an eye on his phone over the next week. Maybe she would come around to talking about the past.
The next day, Angela returned to work, more crushed than ever before. In trying to avoid the conversation with her son about the past, she felt as though she had abandoned him all over again like she did seventeen years ago.
From the tears to the sluggish movements along the conveyor lines, Angela's coworkers could tell that she was far from a good place. But her son didn't want to speak again until she was ready to delve into the past, a past she just couldn't face.
As she made her way home from work, exhausted both physically and emotionally, Angela couldn't help but feel a sense of dread wash over her. Her attempt to reconnect with her son had only served to remind her of the pain and guilt she had been trying so hard to leave behind. She longed for the days when she didn't have to face those memories, when pretending they never happened was enough to keep her going. But with each passing moment, she knew that wasn't possible anymore; not if she wanted any sort of relationship with her son.
She trudged up the steps to her apartment, the weight of her shoulder-bag threatening to pull her forward with every step. As she unlocked her door and flicked on the lights, Angela collapsed onto her musty couch, staring blankly at the stained ceiling. She knew she had to find the courage within herself to face the past; for her sake and for her son's. The question was how...and where to begin.
Restless, unable to sit still or quiet her racing thoughts, Angela decided to distract herself with some mindless television before trying to sleep. Flipping through the channels, she stopped on her favorite soap opera and found herself unexpectedly drawn into it, forgetting for a moment about everything else weighing down on her soul. Maybe this would be a good way to start; to remember the person she used to be before life got so complicated.
As she watched, lost in the familiar saga and the characters who had once felt so real, Angela couldn't help but wonder if there was still hope for her relationship with her son. She knew it wouldn't be easy, but perhaps together they could find a way to heal and move forward. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and whispered a silent prayer before drifting off to sleep.
Time passed and it was now fall. The days were getting shorter, the rains had come, and the temperatures were beginning to drop. Angela's son had checked his phone every day for two weeks but still there was still no call from his mother. The fact that she had popped back into his life only to retreat again had cut him like a knife. He knew this would happen, he told himself.
The skies were dark as a soft rain settled over his neighborhood. Her son donned his coat, stepping out of his house to head for the local market. It was time to move on with his life, he thought.
Angela found herself wandering a local bazaar after having sold a few pieces of furniture she had restored. She glanced up as a young man approached her, carrying a small bouquet of flowers. Her heart skipped a beat, thinking it might be her son for a moment, but then she recognized the face from around the neighborhood - it was just one of the market vendors. She forced a smile and politely declined his offer, feeling even more alone than before.
With another sigh, she continued walking aimlessly through the rows of vegetables and fruits, absently touching their shiny surfaces as if they held some sort of comfort. The truth was that she missed her son terribly, but she knew that if she didn't want to lose him again, she had to face her past and be honest with him about what really happened all those years ago.
As she stood there lost in thought, the wind picked up, rustling the leaves and causing a raindrop or two to fall on her upturned face. Angela shut her eyes, taking a deep breath before making a decision: She would call her son today. No more excuses; it was time to finally have that conversation they needed to have.
With renewed determination, she pulled out her phone and dialed his number, praying that he would answer. When his voice came on the line, a mixture of hope and fear rising in her throat, she steeled herself for whatever reaction might follow.
"Hello?"
her son answered. The line was silent for a moment as Angela choked for words.
"Mom? Hello?"
The anticipation in his voice filled her with anxiety.
"H-hi..."
she muttered.
"Hi, Mom."
The tone of his relief was palpable. She could almost hear her son smiling through the phone. She hesitated, then began,
"I-I think I'm ready to-"
Just as Angela was getting the words out, her son interrupted.
"Mom, can I meet you right now? I want to come see you."
As she heard the eagerness in her son's voice, tears began to well up in Angela's eyes. Part of her wanted nothing more than for him to be there with her right now, but another part of her was terrified at the prospect of seeing him face-to-face. Taking a deep breath, she managed to steady her voice and respond.
"Um, I...I don't know. Can we talk on here for now? Maybe you can come over some other time?"
Her son was silent for a moment before asking cautiously,
"Are you sure, Mom? It's just... I really want to see you."
There was a note of longing in his voice that cut straight through Angela's heart.
Taking another deep breath, she forced herself to be strong.
"I understand,"
she said softly.
"But maybe it's better if we do this over the phone? I promise I'm not running away again."
Her son didn't reply immediately. He wanted to believe her, but the years of hurt and disappointment made it hard for him to trust that things would be different this time around.
To her son, it just seemed as if Angela was trying to use him to absolve herself of her own guilt. She didn't appear too willing to look at the way that she had abandoned him, or address the consequences of it that lead to his dad'a death and his lonely life in foster care.
He knew all too little about the abuses that Angela went on to suffer at the hands of her various boyfriends. From his limited perspective, it seemed as though his mother merely needed his words of forgiveness to move on with her life. He found himself severely disappointed in Angela.
Finally, her son muttered,
"Okay, Mom, but I'm out in public so I'm not anywhere that I can have this private conversation at the moment. We can meet face-to-face some other time. Just don't take too long."
He hung up before Angela could get another word in. He had told himself he wouldn't be disappointed, but he was. He told himself that he wouldn't miss her, but he did.
Angela's shoulders slumped as she heard her son hang up the phone. She knew he was right; they needed to talk face-to-face, but she just couldn't seem to find the courage within herself. The thought of seeing his hurt expression again was too much for her to bear. For a moment, she contemplated calling him back and arranging a meeting at once, promising to be honest and forthcoming about everything, no matter how painful it might be. But then fear gripped her tightly, reminding her that there were consequences to facing one's past head-on, and those consequences could be steep indeed...
"I'll try,"
she whispered into the dead line, hardly audible even to herself.
"I promise I will."
With a heavy heart, she slipped her phone back into her coat pocket. She knew she had to find some way to gather up the strength needed to face both her past and her son; for their sakes, if not hers. But right now, she wasn't sure how long it would take before she was ready for that confrontation...
As Angela made her way home from the bazaar, the occasional rain drops gave way to a light sprinkling. She picked up the pace, eager to avoid getting soaked. Coming around the corner to her building, she spotted a parked car that made her think of her son. Everything was making her think of him. She felt imprisoned by her failures as a mother for the way she had abandoned him. What if she never worked up the courage to see her son in person again? What if this was it for her?
Angela trudged up the steps to her apartment building, her hand over her brow to keep the rain from trickling down into her already teary eyes. A young man stood beside the front doors, peering inside. As he turned around, Angela froze.
"Mom,"
her son greeted warmly,
"I'm sorry, I know you didn't want to meet with me but-"
Suddenly, he wrapped his arms around his mother, pulling her tightly into his pining embrace.
As her son wrapped his arms around Angela, the warmth of his touch bringing tears to her eyes, she felt her resolve start to crumble. His embrace was tight but gentle, and it was then that she realized just how much she had missed him. She let out a small sob as she returned his hug, burying her face into his shoulder.
"I'm sorry,"
she whispered hoarsely.
"I've been such a mess."
He held onto her, rocking her gently back and forth as he murmured words of comfort into her hair. After what seemed like an eternity, they separated, angling their heads so they could look each other in the eye. Her son's face was still pale but had regained some color since she last saw him. His eyes were rimmed with red, evidence of his own tears.
"It's okay, Mom,"
he said softly, wiping her cheek with his thumb. She nodded, taking a shaky breath before responding.
"I want to tell you everything... about what happened with your dad, and my ex-boyfriends, all the things that got in the way of coming back for you..."
Her voice trailed off as she gathered her courage once more, determined to finally lay bare the truth for her son.
"But I've just been so scared. Will you listen to me?"
Her son hesitated only for a moment before responding, his eyes never leaving Angela's.
"Of course I will, Mom. I..."
his voice trailed off as he brushed her bangs from her eyes.
"I've waited so long to see you. I want to know everything, but only if you want to share. If you don't, I think I just want to be around you, Mom."
"I want to share,"
Angela whispered.
"Would you like to come upstairs to my apartment?"
Her son smiled back at her before responding,
"Sure."
They made their way up to her tiny, drab apartment. Angela shut the door behind them, sighing with relief at being alone with her son once more. She gestured for him to sit on her threadbare couch while she went to pour them both some water from the kitchen. As she placed the glasses on the coffee table, she caught his reflection in the mirror and felt a pang of guilt. Despite all that had happened, he still looked so much like his father; an image that brought back memories she would rather forget.
"I guess...let's just get started, huh?"
she said, taking a seat beside him on the couch. Her hands were shaking as she clasped them together in her lap. She had rehearsed what she wanted to say countless times over the past few days, but now that the moment was here, it all seemed so much harder.
"It's okay, Mom,"
he replied softly, looking down at his hands.
"I'm ready whenever you are."
Angela took a deep breath and began to share her story: about how she was abandoned by her own mother and abused by her stepmother. She talked about how she had met his father in college, fallen in love, married quickly...and then the baby came. She recalled her terror at the difficulty of raising a newborn son as her husband fell on hard times.
Having never had a real role-model, she admitted that her instinct was to run. She talked about finding herself in the arms of another man who showered her with money...and abuse. She talked about getting pregnant again, being abandoned herself, and then wandering to boyfriend after boyfriend. She spoke of how it was impossible for her to leave so many of them without putting herself at risk, and how that fear had consumed every decision she'd ever made since.
Throughout it all, her son listened intently, his expression alternating between shock, disbelief, anger...and finally understanding. When she finished speaking, there was a long silence between them before he finally spoke up.
"Mom, I'm..."
His voice cracked as he fought against his welling emotion.
"I'm so sorry."
He had no idea that Angela had suffered such fear, abuse, and loneliness. These were feelings he had been all too accustomed to while growing up in foster care. The fact that the two of them had shared such similar trauma was, for her son, a deep and sudden source of connection. She no longer seemed so alien to him; now it seemed as if she were the only other person in the world who might truly understand him.
"Can I..."
He hesitated as he watched his mother's hands tremble in her lap.
"Can I give you another hug, Mom?"
*As her son reached out to embrace her, tears streaming down her face once more, she could feel herself trembling all over. It had been so long since anyone had held her like this, and the warmth of his presence was almost overwhelming in its intensity. She wrapped her arms around him, burying her face into his shoulder as they sat together on the couch. For what seemed like an eternity, they simply held each other and cried. It was a release unlike any she had ever experienced; to finally let go of the pain and guilt that had been festering inside her for so long. As their sobs began to subside, Angela felt something shift within her; a profound sense of peace and acceptance. She knew there would be more work ahead of them both, but for now, she was content simply to have her son back in her life. When they eventually separated, Angela looked up at him with red-rimmed eyes and managed a small smile.
Her son smiled back at her. The depth and similarity of their pain had suddenly transformed everything he had ever thought about his mother. The connection he felt to her in that moment was intense. He stared deeply into her eyes as she blushed back at him.
"Hey,"
he interjected, breaking their silence with a lightened observation.
"Is that part of the recycling hobby you were talking about?"
Her son gestured over to a freshly sanded rocking-chair sitting atop a spread of newspaper. It was adorned with ornate flower carvings, partially painted with intricate detail.
He leapt up to observe his mother's work more closely.
"Wow, Mom! Are you painting this? You are really talented!"
His jovial compliments cut through the solemn mood.
Angela looked up, surprised by her son's reaction. She brushed a lock of hair behind her ear, a small smile playing on her lips as she spoke for the first time since their emotional embrace.
"Thank you,"
she said softly.
"I try to keep busy, ya know?"
As they continued to glance at each other, something shifted between them again; the tension easing with every passing moment. Perhaps there was hope for them after all, Angela thought. She took a deep breath and offered her son another small smile, one filled with promise and renewal.
"So,"
she said tentatively, glancing back at the rocking-chair,
"what do you think of it so far?"
"It's incredible, Mom!"
He knelt close the the back of the rocking-chair for a closer look.
"The brushwork, the detail, you really know how to bring it to life!"
Her son was beaming with pride at Angela's talent.
"C-can you..."
He hesitated, not wanting to put his mother on the spot after such a long and emotional conversation.
"Can you show me some of your process, Mom? I'd love to watch you work."
"Of course, sweetheart!"
she replied warmly, feeling a surge of pride swell in her chest at his words.
"Let me just get my supplies and I can walk you through it."
Angela hurried to gather her brushes, paints, and other materials before returning to her son's side.
"Now,"
she began, settling onto the couch next to him,
"I usually start by sketching out a rough design with pencil..."
She explained her process for transferring the design onto the wood using a light box. As they worked together on the rocking-chair, their conversation flowed more easily, touching upon everything from his mother's love of art to their favorite kinds of music. The tension that had once been so thick between them began to dissipate like smoke in the wind, replaced by an undeniable sense of connection and understanding. They both knew they still had a long way to go, but for now, simply being together was enough.
As the evening drew to a close, her son didn't want this newfound friendship with his mother to end. Putting himself out there, he asked,
"Hey, what if I came back over tomorrow, after work?"
As he put his coat on, he searched Angela's eyes with hope.
"I could cook you dinner and take a look at that dripping pipe under your sink. What do you think, Mom?"
"I... I don't know..."
Angela trailed off, hesitating as she tried to process the request. The thought of having her son here with her again made her heart soar, but fear still lurked in the back of her mind. She didn't want to push him away; she wanted him to stay.
"Alright,"
she finally said, taking a deep breath,
"you can come over tomorrow."
With a grateful smile, he leaned forward and planted a kiss on her cheek before hurrying out the door. As she watched him go, Angela blushed, unable to help but wonder if this was really happening or if it was all just a dream. Regardless of what came next, one thing was certain: tomorrow would bring a new day and a fresh chance to strengthen their bond. For now, she was content simply to savor the feeling of having her son back in her life.
True to his word, her son came over after work the next day. Then the next day. Then the next. Soon, they were picking nights to go over to each other's places. She no longer spent the evenings alone and her co-workers noticed a marked improvement in her mood. The gloomy woman they had always known now seemed like such a bright and energetic mother, always busy after work visiting with her son.
Angela very much preferred his little home. Though it only had the one bedroom, it was more than twice the size of her studio apartment. His home had a full kitchen adjacent to the living room, a laundry nook, and even a small office space where he worked on shipping and staff reports for work. What's more, his home had heat, something noticeably lacking in Angela's apartment as the winter season neared.
One evening in late November, as Angela and her son huddled for warmth beneath a blanket on her apartment couch, an idea came across her son's mind. They were catching up on her favorite soap opera, sipping at tea as they watched their breaths in the frigid air of her unheated apartment.
"Mom, Winter's just about here; I think you should move in with me."
At first, Angela thought he was joking, but as she looked into his earnest expression, she could tell that he was completely serious. The idea of leaving her cramped little apartment and moving in with her son filled her heart with joy, but at the same time it sent chills down her spine. It meant letting go of one more remnant from her old life...it meant facing the world again as someone's mother instead of merely an adult who happened to be a parent. Her gaze drifted back to the television screen, the characters on their fictional soap opera lives somehow feeling oddly comforting in comparison to the weighty decision she was faced with. Eventually, she mustered the courage to respond, her voice trembling slightly as she spoke:
"I... I don't know if that would be such a good idea, sweetie."
Her words hung heavy in the air between them, each one seeming more filled with doubt and fear than the last. As they continued to watch the television together, neither dared to speak of the offer again. Eventually, though not soon enough for her peace of mind, another commercial came on and broke their uncomfortable silence. Angela leaned over to brush a lock of hair from her son's eyes before glancing back at him, searching for any sign that he might still be open to the idea.
He looked back at her while she grazed his hair. As if her words had been on repeat in his mind, her son responded at last,
"Well, I do, Mom. I would replace the couch with a pull-out bed, just for you. I'd clear out my office nook so you could use it for your painting and restorations."
He looked at Angela with immense hope in his eyes, willing to change anything in his life just to have his mother closer to him.
"I wouldn't charge you any rent at all, so you could save every last dime you made. We wouldn't have to go back and fourth between each other's places anymore; we'd just come home to the same place...together."
He wrapped her small hand between both of his.
Her heart lurched at the thought of sharing such close quarters with her son, but there was also a sense of peace that came from it as well. This was her child, and she had missed so much of his life...maybe this was what their new life could be like. Maybe they could find happiness together, just the two of them. As she watched him looking up at her with such hope in his eyes, something inside her opened up. She felt as if she were making a choice not only for herself but also for him. Embracing the future seemed like a heavy burden to bear, but it was one she would gladly shoulder all the same. Finally, she found the strength to voice her decision:
"Okay, sweetie..."
Her voice trembled as she tried to hide the emotion that welled up inside of her. Her hand trembled in his, as if they were both holding onto a lifeline.
"Okay, let's give it a try."
Her son threw his arms around Angela in relief.
"Oh, thank you, Mom, thank you! The thought of you freezing in here this Winter just kills me! I just can't have it; I care about you too much!"
He was practically squeezing her with his excitement.
"I promise, Mom, we'll get everything set up together. Anything you want to bring, I will find a place for it. I will make sure you get all the privacy you need, as well."
Her son let go for a moment, still holding her shoulders as he looked into her eyes.
"I know my house is not very big, Mom, but my heart will be so much more full with you living there, safe and warm."
Angela looked into her son's eyes, feeling her heart swell with a mix of gratitude and trepidation. Her hand drifted up to brush his cheek, then cupped it softly around his head in a rare display of affection. She held him close for a moment, just enjoying the feel of having him near once more. She had never expected such unconditional love from anyone, let alone someone who had spent so much of their life without her. At last, she found the words she needed to say:
"Thank you,"
she whispered hoarsely, wiping away a tear as it escaped her eye.
"I don't know how to tell you what this means to me...thank you for wanting me there."
They sat there together on her threadbare couch, surrounded by the remnants of their past lives, their tears mingling together as they finally allowed themselves the luxury of truly feeling everything they had been through over the past few months.
That weekend, her son came over to Angela's apartment and together they packed her belongings. He was elated as they loaded the boxes into his car. At last, he thought, whenever Mom came home from work, he'd just always be there for her.
When they arrived at her son's house-now their house-he had one more surprise in store for his mother as he lead her back to the only bedroom. He hoped she wouldn't fight him on this idea as he was firm in his decision:
"Mom, I'm giving you the bedroom. I'm going to sleep in the living room instead of you."
Before Angela had a chance to voice her shock and feelings of imposition, he continued,
"Don't even try to change my mind, Mom; a woman like you deserves her sacred space and privacy. I've already moved my stuff out."
He opened the door to the bedroom. It was clean, empty, and ready for her to settle in.
As she looked around the spacious, cozy bedroom now belonging to her, tears threatened to overflow from her eyes once more. It was such a thoughtful gesture; a reminder that her son had truly grown up into a kind and considerate young man. Despite her initial hesitation about moving in with him, she couldn't deny the warmth and security she felt in his presence. Taking a deep breath, she wrapped her arms around her son as tightly as possible, pressing her cheek against his rough but familiar texture.
"Thank you,"
she whispered hoarsely through her tears.
"You have no idea what this means to me."
"You deserve the best, Mom."
He returned her embrace, hugging his mother's waist as he blushed against her warmth.
"Okay,"
he said at last, loosening his arms to keep his emotions in check.
"Let me get started on making you dinner. I've been working on your favorite soup and I think it's going to turn out really good this time."
Her son strolled down the hall, hoping Angela hadn't noticed his cheeks flush at her loving hug.
"You just get started unpacking, Mom."
he called from the kitchen.
"I'll let you know when dinner's ready."
Angela took a box and set it at the edge of her new bed as she gazed around the bedroom, collecting her thoughts.
She had always been the one who kept things tidy, but now as she unpacked her few belongings into the empty closet and dresser drawers, Angela found herself marveling at how good it felt to have a real home again. The act of placing each item in its designated spot gave her a strange sense of peace; a reminder that even though their pasts were marked by tragedy and loss, they still had the power to shape their futures together. As she finished organizing the last of her things, the faint sound of cooking wafted up from down the hallway, drawing her closer to where her son was preparing dinner for them both. With a contented sigh, she straightened herself and made her way back into the living room, ready to begin this new chapter in their lives.
Her heart swelled with gratitude as she saw him standing at the stove, his back to her as he stirred something simmering in one of his old pots. Despite the small size of their home, it already felt so much bigger now that Angela was a part of it. Taking a moment to admire the simple beauty around her-the warm wood floor, the flickering light of candles cast across the living room table-she couldn't help but feel hopeful for what lay ahead. For the first time, she truly believed that they could make this work; that maybe, just maybe, they were finding a way to heal and be happy together after all.
Their new routine was a relaxed extension of the old one. But instead of juggling their time between traveling to each other's homes, they had more time to spend together in the same household.
Since her son's work schedule was a bit earlier than hers, most evenings Angela returned home to find him already preparing dinner for her. They would share their meal together as they chit-chatted about the events of the day, then he would go for a run while Angela spent the hour working on her projects.
As the evening wound down, she tended to join her son in the living room where they would watch her favorite soap opera together. Angela would cozy up on the sofa to paint her nails or brush her hair while the two of them laughed at the outrageous tangles of the characters' lives.
For her son, this closeness and connection with his mother was beyond anything in his wildest dreams. As Winter settled around them, their home and lives remained warm with love and caring. One evening, as Angela returned home from work, her son was preparing dinner as usual.
"Hey Mom, welcome home!"
he said as she entered the kitchen to spy on what he was cooking for her.
"They're having a holiday party at my work this Friday. Do you want to come with me? Lots of people are bringing their families,"
he continued,
"It's gonna be fun!"
She smiled warmly at her son, glad that he wanted her company even now that they were living together. It was a small gesture, but it meant so much more than anything else in the world.
"Of course I'll come with you,"
she replied, feeling an odd mixture of pride and happiness swell up inside her chest.
"I can't wait to see your coworkers and have some fun."
Her heart ached a little as she thought about how different things could have been if they had always been like this: close, loving, and supportive. But then again, maybe everything happened for a reason; perhaps it was all meant to be. For now, she would focus on the present and enjoy every moment with her son-be it at work or at home. As he finished preparing dinner, they sat down together and shared a meal full of laughter and joy that only strengthened their bond further.
That Friday, as Angela arrived with her son to his workplace party, she was beyond relieved to see that it was indeed a blue-collar casual get-together. Tasteful holiday music played as adults chit-chatted and a few children ran around. Her son took his time to introduce her to his bosses and several of his coworkers, doing everything he could to help her feel at ease.
As Angela mingled with some of the wives, she couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious that she was her son's mother, not his significant other as a couple of the women initially mistook her to be. They laughed off the embarrassment as looking young for her age.
While Angela's son spoke with a few of his fellow managers, some of his other coworkers came over to introduce themselves to Angela.
"We're so glad to meet you,"
they said.
"Up until a few months ago, we didn't actually know that your son had any family. It's nice to see where he gets his talent from."
Her son's coworkers gushed to Angela about how hard-working and accomplished he had become in such a short time; a natural in their field of work.
"You must be really proud,"
the coworkers complimented to her.
With a small smile, she nodded in agreement, feeling her heart swell with pride.
"Oh, he works very hard,"
she said modestly.
"But I must say that it's been wonderful to see him surrounded by so many supportive people at work."
As they chatted, Angela couldn't help but notice the affectionate glances her son would occasionally send her way from across the room; it was obvious that he appreciated her being there just as much as she did.
"Well,"
one of his coworkers' wives chimed in,
"it takes a village to raise a child...or in this case, an amazing mom!"
The group of women laughed heartily at their own joke while Angela's cheeks flushed with embarrassment and gratitude. As the night progressed, she found herself enjoying herself more than she had anticipated; not just because her son was thriving but also because she was finally able to make connections of her own.
When it came time for the company-sponsored gift exchange, her son's name was picked early on. He seemed pleased with a handmade keychain adorned with various tools.
As her son went up to claim his gift, one coworker, being a little tipsy, shuffled over to Angela, complaining that her son never wanted to go to clubs with him.
"Do you know who your son is into?"
the coworker asked her, his voice slightly slurred.
"We invite your son out to meet girls, but he's always going on about how he's not interested. I heard that he's head-over-heels in love with some older woman that we've never met. You're his mom, right? Who's this woman that your son is in love with?"
Her son had never mentioned dating, let alone being in love with someone. Though her son's coworker was clearly drunk, Angela was puzzled.
Her heart skipped a beat at the thought that her son could possibly have feelings for someone else. Her instincts screamed jealousy, but she couldn't help but wonder if there was any truth to it all. Trying to play it cool, she smiled and said nonchalantly,
"Oh, you know how kids are. They change their minds all the time. I'm sure he just hasn't found the right person yet,"
she added with a reassuring wink. She had no idea what was going on in her son's life outside of work or if there was anyone else who might be capturing his attention, but for now she would choose to believe that he was still focused on his work and career goals. Perhaps it was simply an innocent crush or infatuation brought about by the holiday season; something that would pass with time. Regardless, she knew she had to support her son no matter what happened.
Overhearing their conversation, another coworker butted in to chat with Angela.
"Well, from what I heard, one of the secretaries had this huge crush on your son and had been pursuing him for a long time. All of the sudden, like, a couple months ago, your son told her he wasn't interested. Not even a little. He said he was in love with some older woman who probably didn't like him back. We've been dying to know who your son likes but he's completely tight-lipped about it, like it's some forbidden secret,"
the coworker continued.
"Since you're his mom, we hoped you'd know who it was. Guess not?"
Angela was taken aback by the news, both surprised and flattered at the idea that her son had attracted someone's attention. She tried not to let it show on her face as she listened intently, gauging what they were telling her. After a moment of hesitation, she decided to play it cool and simply dismiss their questions with a light-hearted joke. She leaned in closer, pretending to whisper conspiratorially,
"Well, you know how these things go. The secret woman probably doesn't have as many wrinkles or gray hairs as me, though,"
she said with a teasing wink, making the other two laugh heartily before they could ask any more questions. As she pulled back and glanced at her son across the room, he was already grinning widely in her direction. She offered him a small smile in return; a silent acknowledgement that she may have discovered his secret...without him even realizing.
"I'm sure it will all work out in the end,"
she murmured under her breath before returning to chatting with his coworkers. Angela felt her heart race with a mixture of emotions. Perhaps there was something special between them after all, even if they hadn't quite figured it out yet. But if that wasn't the case, why did she feel so jealous over the idea that her son might then have feelings for another woman?
As the party came to an end and guests began filing out, Angela found herself standing next to her son once more. They shared a silent exchange before he turned to her with a small smile on his lips,
"Thank you for coming tonight, Mom."
"Of course,"
she replied with equal gratitude.
"I had fun getting to know everyone. You've got some really nice coworkers here."
Despite her words, there was still something unspoken between them; an understanding that this new dynamic they were forming was fragile and needed to be nurtured carefully.
Hand in hand, they made their way out into the crisp winter air, laughing together as they climbed into his car. The drive home would be short but silent as Angela sat lost in her own thoughts about what had been revealed that night.
As they pulled up to the house, before exiting the car, Angela cautiously admitted,
"I heard a rumor about you tonight..."
She saw her son's face turn beet-red as he jolted upright with surprise.
"A rumor that you like someone. How come you've never mentioned this?"
He swallowed hard, but didn't answer. Instead, her son hung his head in shame as he sat silently next to her, unsure of what to say.
Angela sighed, feeling her heart ache for him.
"It doesn't matter, sweetheart,"
she said softly as she placed a hand on his knee.
"You don't have to tell me if you're not comfortable with it."
They sat in silence for a moment longer before getting out of the car and walking up to the house together. As they reached the front door, Angela turned to face him, taking both of his hands in hers.
"But I want you to know that no matter what, I will always be here for you. You don't have to keep secrets from me or feel like you can't talk to me about these things."
She lifted his chin gently so that he was looking her in the eye.
"I love you and I want only the best for you, okay?"
He hesitated for a moment before finally nodding, relief flooding his features.
"Will you tell me about her sometime?"
she asked quietly, her curiosity getting the better of her despite her promise not to pry.
Her son's face lit up as he glanced at his mom fondly, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
As they stood in the cold, her son spoke at last.
"It's probably nothing, Mom. I mean..."
He looked down at his feet.
"She doesn't like me back, I don't think. And I respect her too much to ruin our friendship with any advancements."
He looked up, staring into Angela's soft eyes.
"She's a wonderful woman, though. You would like her, I think."
As her son's lips quivered to hold back his feelings, his heart ached to tell the woman before him how strongly he felt about her. But he couldn't risk losing his mother if she were repulsed by his affections. He stood there frozen, looking into her confused face.
"And she's very talented and... and beautiful."
She raised an eyebrow, surprised by the depth of emotion in his voice. It was clear that this woman meant a great deal to him. A warmth spread through her chest, and she couldn't help but smile fondly at her son. She tilted her head slightly, studying his face for any hint of deceit or confusion. He seemed genuine; truly in love with someone. It was a strange sensation, but it also filled her heart with joy knowing that he could find happiness.
"You know,"
she began, placing a gentle hand on his cheek,
"I may not know this woman as well as you do, but if she's made an impact on your life the way you say she has... Well, I think that's something special."
As they stood there in the cold night air, Angela's heart swelled with pride and gratitude. Her son was such a strong, capable man who knew his own mind and held dear those whom he loved. And as long as she was given the opportunity to be by his side, she would cherish every moment they shared - both with him and perhaps even this mysterious woman who had somehow found a way into his hearts.
Her son's heart was pounding, rattling the very core of his being. Almost breathlessly, he whispered to Angela,
"You know who she is, Mom."
His eyes were glassy, wordlessly pleading for her to understand that the woman he was so madly in love with was standing right there in front of him.
In that moment, he just wasn't finding the words to tell her.
A mixture of shock and disbelief flashed across her face as she stared at him, his features becoming more animated with every word.
"What do you mean?"
she managed to stammer, her heart beginning to race in excitement and fear. As she struggled to comprehend what he was saying, a memory from earlier in the night came rushing back: the coworker's words about someone who liked him but didn't return his affection. Could it be possible that this woman was the one he had been referring to all along?
"You mean...you like me?"
she asked, her voice cracking with emotion as she struggled to maintain composure. Her eyes darted back and forth between her son's face and his hands on hers, feeling a sudden rush of heat course through her veins.
"But why? I'm your mother!"
"You don't understand,"
he whispered urgently, stepping closer so that their bodies were almost touching.
"It's not about the age difference or blood relation or anything like that. It's just...whenever you're around me, I feel happy and safe. And when I see you smile, it makes my heart flutter."
He paused for a moment, his voice barely audible above the sound of their ragged breathing.
"You're everything to me, Mom. I don't just like you..."
His words trailed off as his gaze returned to Angela's.
"I'm in love with you."
A wave of confusion washed over Angela as she stared up at her son, unable to process what he had just said. The warmth in his eyes, the sincerity in his voice - it all contradicted everything she had known about them and their relationship until now. It was surreal, like being caught in a dream where the rules no longer applied. She took a tentative step back, still holding his gaze but unable to meet its intensity.
"I-I don't understand,"
she stammered, her heart pounding so hard it felt as though it might burst through her chest.
"We're mother and son... this shouldn't be happening..."
Her thoughts raced as she tried to make sense of the situation, desperately seeking an explanation or denial that would bring them both back to normalcy. But with each passing moment, the reality of his words settled in like a leaden weight, dragging her further from the life she knew and towards an uncertain future.
"I'm sorry,"
he whispered, tears beginning to well up in his eyes.
"I didn't mean for this to happen...That's why I tried to bury it as deep as I could."
Her son let go of her hands as he shook his head.
"I'm not going to act on it, Mom, I promise. I respect you too much. If I have to, I'll leave you the house and find another place to stay."
He looked back down at his feet, his face heavy with embarrassment and shame.
"I don't want to have these feelings for you, Mom; I just want you to be happy."
"You don't have to leave,"
Angela whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of her own heartbeat thundering in her ears.
"I-I need some time to process this...to figure out what it all means."
She reached up and cupped his cheek gently, her thumb stroking across his smooth skin as she searched for any sign that this was just a terrible misunderstanding or a cruel joke played by fate. But the pain in his eyes told her otherwise; he wasn't lying. This was real, and it had happened between them.
"I want you to know,"
she continued, her voice cracking as tears trickled down her cheeks,
"that I love you too...no matter what."
She pulled him into a hug then, holding onto him tightly as they stood on the front porch together, the cold night air burning their faces. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, trying to calm the chaos that had erupted within her as she fought to accept this new reality where nothing was certain anymore except for the love she felt for her son.
"We'll get through this,"
she promised, her voice shaking with emotion.
"Together."
Her son broke free of her embrace, then stepped off the porch towards the driveway.
"Wait, where are you going?"
she pleaded.
"It's okay, just get some rest, Mom. I just need to go for a walk alone,"
he responded, his voice brimming with the pain he needed to stifle. He paced down the driveway and off into the cold night air as he worried about how their situation, their routines, and their connection might come unraveled because of his foolish admittance of feelings for his mother. Of course she didn't like him back, he told himself. He felt so stupid.
Meanwhile, Angela stood there on the porch, alone with her own thoughts and feelings.
Tears flowed freely down her cheeks as she watched him disappear into the night, a weight settling heavily in her chest. Angela leaned against the porch railing, pressing her fingers to her lips in disbelief and confusion. What had just happened? How could this be real? She closed her eyes, taking deep breaths to calm the racing of her heart as she tried to make sense of everything that had transpired between them.
"I love you, sweetie"
she whispered softly, her voice thick with emotion.
"No matter what happens, I'm going to be here for you this time."
As she wiped the tears from her eyes and stepped back inside the house, Angela knew that everything had changed between them tonight. Their relationship would never be the same again. The bond they shared was now tainted by forbidden love, and they would both have to navigate these uncharted waters together.
"I'll find a way to make this right,"
she muttered to herself, resolute despite the pain in her heart.
"We'll figure this out together."
With that thought in mind, Angela headed down the hall to bed, determined to face whatever tomorrow brought her - no matter how much it might hurt.
The next morning Angela awoke from her exhaustion and leapt out of bed to check on her son. Coming in to the living room, she found the pull-out couch still folded up, and no sign of him anywhere. She was crushed.
As she clocked in to work at the recycling plant, her face was visibly laden with sadness. Almost out of character, her boss called Angela off the sorting floor and the into his office to ask what was going on with her.
"There's...this guy who likes me,"
she began,
"We've gotten really close and we do everything together, but...I don't know how I feel and I don't want to lose our friendship."
Her boss sighed deeply.
"You know, Angela, for the first time in a long time, it seemed like you've been happy. I know you've had some trouble with abusive men, but it seemed like you turned a corner with your son. If this guy who likes you is anything like your son, I think you should just go for it."
Angela sat up at her boss' words. He didn't know that the guy who liked her was in fact her son. Nevertheless, her boss continued,
"I wanna offer you a piece of advice that I've never shared with anyone else, Angela. A long time ago, a good friend of mine confessed his feelings for me. I liked him too, but I didn't want to deal with the risks of dating a man, so I turned him down."
Her boss looked at her with a most grave expression.
"Angela, I have regretted that decision every day of my life. Don't turn down love just because you're afraid of the challenge."
Angela's boss then dismissed her back to work where she could think about his advice.
As the day went on, Angela found herself unable to stop thinking about her boss' words. They echoed in her head, resonating with some deep-seated longing she hadn't even known was there. The idea that she might have missed out on something special because of fear made her heart ache. Perhaps it wasn't too late to pursue this new path with her son, despite the complications and uncertainty it presented. After all, love had always found its way into unexpected places; perhaps hers could bloom in an unlikely direction as well.
"I don't want to live my life with regrets,"
she murmured to herself, feeling a spark of determination kindling inside her. Maybe there was still hope for them after all. She resolved to talk to her son about what had been revealed the night before and see where things went from there, without worrying too much about what might happen or what others would think. For once in her life, she wanted to take control of her destiny and choose happiness over fear. It was a frightening prospect, but one that filled her with a sense of renewed purpose and hope.
"We'll find our way together,"
she whispered to herself as the day wore on, secretly harboring a quiet, steady faith in the power of their love to overcome any obstacle. After all, they had always been there for each other before; why should this time be any different?
As she clocked out from her shift, Angela shouldered her bag and stepped out of the warehouse to find her son standing beside his car. He waited patiently as she strolled over to him. Her eyes welled up as she weakly smacked his chest in frustration.
"Where have you been?!"
she grumbled, fighting her tears. His face remained serious as he wrapped his arms around her.
"I'm sorry,"
he whispered into her hair,
"I just..."
Her son took a deep breath.
"Let's drive somewhere."
Angela searched his eyes, then reluctantly got into the car. They sat in awkward silence as he took her to the entrance of wooded area at a local park. As they got out and walked along the lit path, her son tried to refocus on their conversation.
"I'm sorry,"
he said again,
"For everything. I should have been more careful about your feelings, Mom. But I'm not going anywhere. I won't leave you."
He shook his head.
"Look, I know you don't love me back, but-"
Before her son could finish his sentence, Angela grabbed his cheeks and pulled his mouth against hers. As their lips locked together, tears of relief ran down both their faces.
A surge of emotions flooded through her body. She'd thought she was ready for whatever he might say or feel, but the pure passion in their kiss took her by surprise. She melted against him, wrapping her arms around his neck as their embrace grew tighter.
"I do love you,"
she whispered between kisses.
"I just didn't know how to process it all. It feels so...wrong..."
Her voice trailed off as they continued to explore each other's mouths, lost in the depth of their connection.
"But it doesn't feel wrong with you,"
she murmured against his lips, gently nipping at them before kissing him again.
"I don't want to lose us either... I want to see where this goes."
"I want that too, Mom,"
her son whispered, returning Angela's affections kiss for kiss.
"I grew up afraid to love,"
he mumbled as his lips danced around hers.
"But with you I'm never scared, never lonely."
His fingers climbed their way up her back as he panted.
"I don't want to pressure you, Mom... I just want you to be happy."
Her heart leapt at his words, a warmth spreading through her chest. It was exactly what she wanted to hear. She could see the sincerity in his eyes and feel it in every touch they shared. Gently pulling away from their kiss, Angela cupped his cheek with her free hand.
"I'm happy with you, sweetie,"
she said softly.
"We don't have to rush into anything... but I want us to figure this out together."
As she spoke, she leaned in and pressed their lips back together, savoring the taste of him and the feel of his strength against her. They stood there under the soft glow of the streetlights, lost in each other as they explored a new world of possibility and love.
They continued to sway as their lips parted at last. He looked down into his mother's eyes. Her smile was so dulcet and wondrous as she gazed up at her son. They could see the moisture of their breaths as the night air settled.
"Should we go home?"
Angela asked.
"Yeah,"
her son responded,
"it's late and I owe you a nice hot meal, Mom."
With hands clasped together, the two walked back to the car, whispering and giggling to each other as the stars bore witness to the Winter budding of new love.
"Oh, that reminds me! I was going to tell you about this amazing new restaurant I found downtown,"
she began excitedly as they reached the car.
"It serves the most delicious pasta dishes and their wine selection is incredible. We could go check it out together soon."
As they got into the car, Angela couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over her. The warmth from their kiss still lingered on her lips and in her heart. Despite all the uncertainty that lay ahead, she knew one thing for sure: she had found something special with her son, and she wasn't going to let it slip away again.
As they drove home, Angela reached over and took his hand in hers, giving it a gentle squeeze.
"I love you, sweetie,"
she whispered, her voice barely above a whisper before returning to the light conversation as they navigated through the city lights.
"So, what do you think? Should we give that new restaurant a try next weekend?"
she asked,
"I hear their tiramisu is to die for."
As the car pulled into the driveway of their home, her son looked back at her, a playful grin overcoming his face.
"Mom, it's a date..."
he beamed. They got out of the car and made for the door as he took her hand once more and squeezed it.
"And I love you too."
Stepping inside, they shut the door behind them. The house was full, not merely with mother and son, but two lovers, safe and sound at last.
As they stepped inside, the warmth of their love wrapped around them like a comforting blanket. Angela felt a peace wash over her that she hadn't experienced since she fell for his late father in her youth. It was as if all the confusion and doubt had finally been swept away by the strength of their connection. She glanced up at her son, her heart swelling with affection.
"You know,"
she said, grinning brightly,
"I think this could be the start of something really special for us."
"I am so looking forward to seeing where this goes,"
he replied, returning her smile as they started toward the kitchen together.
"But no matter what happens, I want you to know that I'll always love you, Mom."
Her throat tightened at his words, and she wrapped an arm around his shoulders, pulling him close in a fierce embrace.
"I'll always love you too, sweetie,"
she whispered, feeling grateful for this newfound understanding between them, for the acceptance and support that they found in each other. They had weathered the storm together, emerging stronger and more loving than ever before. As they entered the kitchen, Angela knew without a doubt that their relationship would continue to grow and flourish in ways neither of them could have ever imagined.
As the next Friday rolled around, Angela found herself at work. Her shift at the recycling plant had only just begun as she sorted items on the conveyors, but she found herself giddy with excitement for her first real date tonight. Her son was going to be taking her to that new Italian restaurant she was so excited about.
When none of her coworkers were within earshot, Angela's boss walked over to speak with her.
"Angela, you're glowing,"
he complimented, uncharacteristic of his normally stoic demeanor. She brushed a lock of hair back beneath her hardhat and smiled back at her boss.
"So you took my advice then and followed your heart?"
he asked. She beamed with gratitude as she thanked him for his prior advice.
"You know, Angela, you never really know who fate is going to put into your love life; it could be a man or a woman, your best friend or..."
Her boss' eyes shone laden with seriousness and respect.
"Or your own son."
Angela turned beet-red as she filled with shock over her boss' words.
"H-how did..."
she stammered in fear, unable to voice her horror that her boss somehow knew about her romantic connection with her son. He held his finger to his lips, as if to suggest that she try and keep her own secret.
"When you're as old and worn as me, Angela, you can spot true love from a mile away. Don't worry, I won't ever tell. You just continue to follow your heart, okay?"
Angela stood there dumbfounded, blushing as she attempted to nod in agreement. Her boss shot her a smile and a supportive wink as he pretended to slip back into his normal attitude. He pointed to his clipboard and shouted,
"Now back to work! The next load should be arriving right about now."
As he walked away, her boss gave Angela one last warm smile to reassure her of his secret support for her hidden love life.
Taken aback by her boss' revelation, Angela couldn't help but feel a rush of guilt wash over her. How could he have known about her feelings before she did? Did anyone else at the plant suspect anything? Despite these nagging questions, she found herself unable to deny the warmth that spread through her chest at his words of encouragement and his promise to keep it a secret for her. Maybe there was hope for them after all, even if it meant keeping this part of their lives private from everyone else.
As the day progressed and the time grew closer to her date with her son, Angela felt more and more excited. When her shift finally ended and she made her way home, she hurried into the house, anxious for the night to begin. She changed into her new dress - a deep red that matched perfectly with her feelings of love and passion for her son - and began fixing herself up before he arrived. Her heart raced as she waited by the front door, anticipation building with every second that ticked by.
Finally, she heard his key in the lock, and her breath caught as he stepped inside. He was dressed impeccably in a crisp black suit and tie, looking like nothing short of debonair. Taking a deep breath, Angela gathered her courage and walked slowly towards him. Her fingers trembled as she reached up to touch his cheek, feeling the stubble from his fresh shave beneath them.
"You look so handsome,"
she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.
"Mom, you look...incredible."
Her son was floored as how beautiful and sexy his mother looked in her red dress. His gaze ran up her soft thighs, tracing around her curvy figure until the met the dazzling smile that lifted her cheeks.
"I'm uh..."
He was almost too nervous in the presence of her gorgeousness.
"I'm your dorky son; I'll be date for tonight,"
he teased, smiling down at her as she giggled. He took her hand in his and leading her out of the house.
As they drove to the restaurant, Angela couldn't help but feel a sense of joy and contentment unlike anything she had ever experienced before. Despite all the obstacles that lay ahead, for this one night, she was going to savor every moment with the man who genuinely loved her, her son.
He seated his mother in a chivalrous fashion, hailing the waiter to order two glasses of her favorite wine. As they waited for their drinks, her son reached across the table and stroked his mother's hand.
"Mom..."
he leaned in, smiling as he hesitated with his feelings,
"I-I feel so lucky to get to take such a smart and talented woman like you out on the town tonight."
Her eyes shone with tears as she gazed into his handsome face, the emotion welling up within her making it hard to speak.
"Sweetie..."
She managed finally, her voice choked with emotion.
"I feel just as lucky to be here with you."
With trembling fingers, she reached across the table and cupped his cheek, gently stroking his skin.
"You've no idea what this means to me."
Her heart skipped a beat as the waiter arrived, pouring their wine before leaving them alone once more. Taking a sip of her drink, Angela savored the taste before looking back at him, her expression softening further.
"Your father would have been so proud of you, you know."
The words hung in the air between them for a moment, heavy with meaning and history. But as she watched her son blush under her gaze, she knew that they had moved past their shared pain and loss. They were here now, together and alive, finding joy in each other's company once more.
Though Angela had abandoned her son and his late father some twenty years ago, these last six months of connecting with her son were like a second chance at life. He was eager to share the fruits of his own labor with her, longing to reward her for the person she was now, despite not having been there for him growing up. He no longer cared about that past as their deep connection, separately sharing lifetimes of abuse and loneliness, tied them closer than even their blood relation. As he gazed at Angela across the table, her son knew that nobody could understand him better than she could.
"So,"
she asked playfully to spice up their date,
"What is it about me that you like?"
Her breasts pressed together under the soft fabric of her dress as she leaned forward. Resting her hand on her palm, Angela used her other fingers to trace shapes onto her son's hand.
Most of the other men she had dated were abusive. Their favorite things about her had been parts of her body, and she found herself accidentally used to presenting herself in exchange for any forms of affection she could get from them, no matter how shallow. Being with her son was different though, and his innocent, unhesitating response caught her off guard.
"Your courage, Mom."
He stared at her warmly.
"You put so much effort into doing right by others. I think your courage is one of the most attractive things about you."
Her heart swelled, chest aching with emotion as she held his gaze across the table.
"Courage?"
she repeated, confused but gratified by his words. It was not the answer she expected. Looking back at him with a mixture of wonder and surprise, she leaned in slightly closer, her gaze intent on finding some hidden meaning behind those deep brown eyes.
"Thank you,"
she breathed softly, unable to hide the tears that shimmered in her eyes.
"That...means so much coming from you."
She paused for a moment, gathering her thoughts and the courage to continue.
"I wasn't always like this, of course. There was a time when I was weak, and I let my fear control me."
She reached out, gently tracing his jawline with her fingertips before pulling her hand back to her lap.
"But then I found you,"
she added with a smile that lit up her whole face.
"And seeing how strong and kind you've become made me want to be better too. So, really... thank you for being my inspiration, sweetie."
Taking another sip of wine, she took a deep breath, trying to steady herself as the conversation had taken an unexpectedly intimate turn.
"Buuut,"
she continued, mustering a playful tone, grinning seductively as she grazed his leg under the table with her foot,
"there's clearly a physical attraction here, right? Tell me what you like about this old body."
As Angela's foot ticked her son's leg, a jolt of electricity shot up his spine.
"Uhm..."
he blurted, stifling an embarrassed smile beneath his flushed cheeks.
"You don't look old, Mom. You're so naturally pretty."
"Oh really?"
she teased. She clearly had more experience at this.
"What do you like most about what you see?"
Her son's face grew more red as he squirmed at his mother's advances.
"M-maybe...your silky brown hair and your soft..."
His voice trailed off into into a quiet, bashful mumble.
"What was that?"
she asked, twirling a lock of her hair between her fingers as if to drive him wild. Her son looked around with a guilty expression, then leaned in close and hushed,
"You have a cute tummy, Mom."
Angela blushed as she touched her fingers to her lips, surprised by her son's answer. At forty years old, and after two pregnancies, Angela had a soft, pillowy definition to her lower stomach. She had always hated it as a physical sign of her lost youth, but her son seemed to adore the curves of her navel area.
"You mean this?"
she asked, delicately feathering her fingers over the fabric of her red dress as she outlined her bellybutton. Her son rubbed his neck sheepishly, desperate to maintain his composure.
"Yeah...it's...really, really nice."
he admitted, ever so slightly mortified by his own honesty. Angela bit her lip, excited by how easily she could elicit a reaction from her son. Continuing their quiet, erotic conversation, he tried to turn the tables on her.
"What bout you, Mom? What do you like about my body?"
Her cheeks blushed, but she grinned at the mention of his body.
"Well,"
she began slowly, her gaze sweeping over him as if committing every inch to memory,
"I can honestly say that I have always thought you were quite... handsome."
She took another sip of wine, savoring the rich taste on her tongue before continuing.
"Your arms are so strong and defined from all your workouts; it's impossible not to notice them when we hug."
A mischievous glint entered her eyes as she leaned in close again.
"And I can't forget about that part of you..."
She reached down, ever-so-gently pressing a finger against his bulge beneath the table. Her son hissed through his teeth at the sensation, and Angela grinned impishly, feeling a thrill course through her veins at knowing she had such power over him.
"It seems I wasn't the only one affected by our little date tonight."
"Mom!"
he protested, but his cheeks were still flushed red from embarrassment and arousal alike. She smiled softly, enjoying the playful dynamic between them before once more returning her attention to their conversation.
"But seriously, Mom..."
"Hmm?"
she hummed innocently, not ready to let him off the hook quite yet. He sighed and looked down at the table, a mixture of frustration and amusement coloring his expression as he tried to gather his thoughts. Angela couldn't help but chuckle; this boy of hers was so sweetly irresistible.
Her son continued his question.
"...you're so out of my league. Could a woman as perfect as you really think I'm..."
His voice trailed off as his mother's affections got the better of him.
"Handsome?"
Before Angela could answer, the waiter arrived with their meals. The interruption pushed their conversation back into light and casual topics. They chatted and laughed like two childhood friends as they savored the rich flavors of their pasta.
"Here, Mom, try a bite of this,"
her son offered, resting his fingers beneath her chin as he sensually guided his fork to her lips.
As he guided the fork toward her mouth, she closed her eyes and parted her lips slowly as his touch registered in her mind. The pleasure she felt at his gentle caress made her heart skip a beat. As she tasted the pasta on his fork, for a moment they were connected not only through flesh but also through food. It was a profoundly intimate gesture that left her feeling warm and fuzzy inside.
"Mmm, that's delicious."
She grinned at him, their eyes locking once more as they shared this private moment in public. As the evening progressed, they grew closer with each exchange of words and touches. They talked about their dreams and aspirations, sharing secrets from their past while creating new memories together. The tension between them had dissipated, replaced by an affection that left no doubt in her mind: this was the future she wanted for herself, to continue loving and growing with her son.
The restaurant was starting to wind down as they finished their meal. Angela glanced at his watch, surprised to see how late it had gotten. The thought of going home with him filled her with anticipation; she couldn't wait to see where the night would take them. As he picked up the check, she reached across the table and placed a hand on top of his, giving it a squeeze.
"Thank you for tonight,"
she said sincerely.
"It was perfect."
They headed for the door, her arm looped around his. Her son sighed with relief.
"You know, Mom, I've only ever been on a handful of dates and they were all nerve-racking. Being with you, though..."
He smiled at her as they stepped into the cold night air.
"Feels so natural and comfortable."
Reaching the car, her son held the passenger door open, allowing his curvy, elegant mother to slip in unencumbered. As he got behind the wheel, he reached over and clasped Angela's hand.
"Being with you...it's like I have a best friend who completely understands me, Mom."
Angela smiled warmly at his words, her heart swelling with affection.
"You know, sweetheart,"
she said softly as they drove,
"I-I think that maybe I have a best friend right here too."
As they pulled up to her house, she turned toward him and gave him a meaningful look.
"And I'd like nothing more than for us to keep exploring this new connection between us... together."
Her voice trailed off suggestively as she reached over and brushed a lock of hair away from his face, their fingers lingering in contact long after the touch was done. The air around them felt charged with possibility as they parked and stepped out of the car.
Without saying another word, Angela leaned forward and pressed her lips against his. The kiss was slow and tender at first, a gentle brushing of mouths that quickly deepened as she slid her hands into his hair, pulling him closer. Her son responded with equal eagerness, losing himself in the sensation of their lips moving together, exploring every curve and crevice of each other's mouth. As they stood there in the driveway, oblivious to the world around them, they shared a moment that transcended anything either of them could have ever imagined.
Raindrops began to dot the ground as her son kissed Angela in the driveway. Thunder clattered in the distance.
"C'mon, Mom, let's go inside,"
her son whispered, the longing in his voice a clear implication that he desired to be with her too. They sprinted up the porch and into the house, laughing as they dodged the rain that began to fall. He grabbed some candles from the kitchen and followed his mother back to her room. Placing them across her dresser, he struck a match and lit them, bringing a soft, intimate glow to their sacred space.
"Ready, Mom?"
he whispered. After tossing his dinner jacket aside, Angela pushed him playfully onto her bed. The strap of her dress fell past her shoulder as she stood before her son in the candle light. The storm outside pattered against the window.
"You have no idea,"
she purred.
Climbing onto the bed, she stretched out beside him. The softness of her lips made his heart race as he kissed her deeply once more, exploring every curve and contour of her mouth with his tongue. Their bodies tangled together in the heat of passion, their clothes a hindrance to be quickly discarded. Her son moaned as Angela's hands slid over his bare chest, kneading him gently before trailing lower, to where they could feel the heat between her legs. With one swift motion, she parted his pants and underwear, freeing his erection from its confines.
"Oh sweetie,"
she grinned. Their hungry mouths found each other once more, kissing passionately as their hands roamed freely over each other's bodies. Angela pushed him onto his back, her soft breasts brushing against his chest as she lowered herself onto him, guiding him into her wet heat. A gasp escaped her lips as he filled her completely, the feel of him inside her sending waves of pleasure through every fiber of her being.
"Oh Mommy,"
he groaned, running his fingers down her back. They moved together in a primal dance of desire, their bodies speaking a language that only they understood.
Their moans mingled with the sound of the rain pattering against the window and lightning flashing across the sky outside. The world beyond this room and these moments seemed to fade away, replaced by an intense focus on each other and the connection that bound them together.
"It feels so good to be in you,"
her son whispered breathlessly. They loved fiercely, as if making up for lost time, their connection a beacon of hope in a world where such things were rare and precious.
Her head fell back against his shoulder as she let out a shuddering moan. She gripped his hands, urging him on, feeling the pleasure build inside her with every thrust of his hips. Her body arched toward him, seeking more contact, needing to feel closer still.
"Oh god...yes..."
The storm raged on outside as they moved together, lost in the passion of the moment. Their lovemaking was brutal and unyielding, each stroke pushing them closer to the edge. Her son's eyes squeezed shut as he fought to keep control, his body tensing and straining beneath her. Angela held him tightly, feeling every muscle in his back tense up.
"I love you, Mom,"
he moaned, his pitch heightened as the pressure built within him to an almost unbearable limit. Angela's hips pistoned wildly against her son as she fought to keep her breath from escaping completely. Their tongues danced against each other, the movement of their bodies too erratic to keep their lips sealed together for long.
"I'm so close, Mommy! Are you?!"
Their skin slapped together with the violent passion of their increasing need for each other as the candlelight flickered against the ceiling.
"Oh god, yes, sweetie!"
Angela cried out, feeling her own release building up deep within her. As his grip on her tightened, she arched her back and let out a scream that mingled with the sound of thunder outside. She could feel her son explode beneath her, his release spilling warmth deep within, filling her with his longing and desire.
Her body tensed as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through her, leaving her weak and shaking from the intensity of their shared climax. As they both came down from the high of their lovemaking, Angela pressed her lips against his and let out a contented sigh. His chest rose and fell beneath her as he lay motionless for a moment, catching his breath before opening his eyes to meet hers. They smiled at each other softly, their fingers tangled together on the bedsheets.
"I've never felt anything like that,"
Angela whispered.
"With anyone."
Her words hung in the air between them, weighing heavily as they both knew just how special this night had been for them both.
"You are my first, Mom."
Angela blushed at the thought that she had just taken her own son's virginity. It seemed so wrong and yet...no one had ever loved her the way that he did.
"You're the only one for me,"
he continued, working to steady his breath.
"Our bodies were made for each other. Our souls..."
Her son's face lit up as he squeezed her hands affectionately.
"...were meant to be together, Mom."
Their lovemaking had left them both spent, but she couldn't help feeling a profound sense of connection and love for her son. As they lay together in the afterglow of their passion, she reached up to wipe away a tear that trickled down his cheek, leaving a trail of salty wetness on his skin.
"It may have started out as an act of desperation, but I think...I truly believe that it was fate."
she whispered. He smiled, nodding slowly as he considered her words. The expression on his face made her heart swell with hope for their future together, however uncertain it might be. She traced her finger up the line of his jaw, brushing away a lock of sweaty hair from his forehead.
"So...where do we go from here?"
He let out a long breath before answering.
"Well, I'm going to save up and buy you a bigger house,"
he began.
"Your dream house, Mom. It'll have room for all of your beautiful art projects, a wonderful dining room where we can share all our meals together, a spacious front porch where we can watch the sunsets together, and a great big master bedroom where..."
He kissed her lips lightly before continuing.
"Where we can make love and sleep together."
Her son watched Angela as her eyes welled with tears of hope and anticipation at the future he was painting for them both.
"And we'll live there as a couple, Mom, just you and me, and I'll love and cherish you for as long as I live."
Tears spilled down her cheeks as she listened to his heartfelt words. His plan for their future was everything she could have ever hoped for, and more than she ever deserved. She reached up, wiping away her tears as they fell on his chest, leaving trails of wetness in their wake. With a soft, trembling voice, she replied:
"You really think that we can grow old and be happy together?"
"I know it,"
he said confidently, cupping her face in his hands and brushing away the last of her tears.
"Because we're not just mother and son anymore, Mom. We're best friends, partners...soulmates. And no matter what happens, I'll always be there for you, and you'll always be my beautiful angel."
Their lips met once more, tenderly at first then with growing passion as they explored the depth of their newfound connection. The candles flickered, casting shadows on the walls as they reveled in the intimacy of their embrace. Slowly, they drifted off to sleep, their fingers locked together once more and their hearts forever intertwined.
In that moment, Angela knew she had made the right decision to take on this role as her son's lover...and his mom. She couldn't have imagined a better future for herself than this one: hand in hand with her son, creating a life of love and happiness that defied convention but felt entirely natural and right.