American King (New Camelot #3)

When we first met, he thought I was his enemy and I thought he was perfect.

Our last first

He swallows, still crying, and stands up, and I know exactly what he wants. I stand up too, and for the first time in his life, I pull my son into my arms and hug him. For every milestone and year I missed, for every other person’s arms he’s felt holding and carrying him, for every empty, bitter moment he felt today when he learned the truth and had to endure it alone.

I hug him. I close my eyes, press my face into his already strong and heavy shoulder, and I thank God for this unexpected grace. This undeserved mercy.

Thank you.

Thank you.

Thank you.