suddenly, just like that, like a light going on, she knows. She knows deep in her stomach, deep
inside her.
She knows because of the way his eyes catch the early-morning blue winter light.
It isn't her fault.
It isn't his fault.
She knows that she mothered him well enough. She knows because of his eyes. They are lit with love. They are lit with love for her. She deflates right there on the sofa.
— Jun 20, 2026 03:52AM
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