Page 10

He lifted his little face, sniffling softly, and his eyes found mine again. I smiled at him and wiped away his tears, just as I had wiped mine only moments ago.

“Hey,” I said softly.

“Hey,” he replied in a small voice, making me laugh.

“Do you think we can get up ?” I asked him.

He stared at me a few more seconds through his tears, then nodded. I helped him to his feet and groaned as I rose as well.

He kept his head down, shoulders slumped, and wiped his nose on his sleeve, making me smile again.

“Wait, here, take this,” I said, pulling a tissue from my bag and handing it to him.

He hesitantly took it and blew his nose. I ran my fingers through his hair, smoothing it down as he gradually calmed.

“Did you get hurt ? Is that why you’re crying ?” I asked him gently.

He shook his head softly, sniffling again. I frowned, quickly scanning him, but I didn’t see anything alarming.

“It’s… Mom…” he sobbed.

“Oh, did you lose your mom ? Don’t worry, we’ll find her. Come,” I said, holding out my hand.

But he shook his head again, though he still grabbed my hand.

“Dad said Mom left, that she’s not coming back, but that she’s watching over us from where she is.”

I froze, my eyes widening as I understood what he meant—or rather, what he couldn’t say, what he couldn’t understand.

I pressed my lips together and squeezed his hand, trying to comfort him. To my surprise, he squeezed back and snuggled against my legs the way my son did. I hugged him in return, rubbing his back.

“Your dad is right,angelomio. No matter where she is, a mother always watches over her child,” I reassured him.

“Really ?” he asked, looking up at me with big, hopeful blue eyes, I brushed his hair from his forehead and nodded with a smile.

“Of course. Mothers never abandon their children. I’m a mamma, too. Our duty is to protect our children.”

My eyes welled up with my own words. To protect my child. But I had failed at the very foundation of my duty as a mother.

What kind of mother was I?

“Really?! You’re a mom?!” the little boy exclaimed, his eyes shining with hope.

I nodded, though I felt a twinge of unease at his growing excitement.

“Would you be my mom, too?” he asked excitedly.

I stared at him, mouth slightly open, stunned. I felt whatever was left of my shattered heart break even more—a little boy, barely older than my son, asking me to be his mother when we didn’t even know each other’s names.

“What? Me?” I whispered, perplexed, he nodded eagerly, tightening his grip on my hand.

I tilted my head, biting my lip, emotions and thoughts swirling inside me. I searched for the right words to explain that his request was impossible—when a deep voice made us both jump.

“Andrei !”

I looked up and instantly recognized the deep voice. My gaze locked onto the handsome Russian whose name escaped me. His brows knitted together as he saw me holding Andrei.

The little boy turned to him and ran toward him, bouncing on his feet, his sobs and tears already forgotten.