CHAPTER 35
DEVLIN
We were standing by the front door– quiet as lambs for what seemed like forever, our gazes locked at each other. I wanted to laugh, scream with pleasure or shed tears all at the same time–it was strange how a placid moment could stir up such emotional unrest…my emotional turmoil.
I had to hold the door frame to keep me steady. Otherwise, I may collapse as I reach my wit's end. Having a son?… how I wish this was true…it was beyond my comprehension at the moment, but the boy was a replica of me.
He bravely broke the silence between us, “Hello, good afternoon, sir,” His speech pattern was straight, and his voice didn't even sound like a child his age.
How old was he– six? Five? Four?
No– impossible to be six or five– so four. Was Sairah pregnant when I left? ‘Devlin.
