VANESSA
I stood frozen at the window, watching my son wobble down the driveway on his bicycle—with Roman Vance jogging steadily behind him, one hand hovering protectively near Fabian's back. The scene hit me like a physical blow.
This was what I'd been afraid of. This natural, easy connection between father and son that made all my careful walls seem suddenly flimsy and unnecessary.
Fabian's delighted laugh floated up to me as he pedaled faster, Roman keeping pace with an expression of such fierce pride on his face that it made my throat tight. Neither of them knew I was watching. This wasn't for my benefit. This was just them—father and son—finding their way to each other despite everything I'd done to prevent it.
I pressed my palm against the cool glass, conflicting emotions battling inside me. Six years of protection. Six years of being everything to my son. Six years of telling myself Fabian was better off without the complications Roman would bring.
And yet here we were.