HE GAVE HIS MISTRESS MY PADDLE. HE FORGOT THE AUCTION HOUSE BELONGED TO ME

asleep against my chest.

His breathing was warm through my blouse.

I looked down at his small face and felt something open inside me.

Not the restoration of the child I might have had.

Jude was not a replacement for anything.

He was himself.

A child whose beginning had been shaped by selfishness but whose life did not have to be.

Julian consented to my appointment continue reading …