"Not being my son is not something you or I could control. But then, Gibson will indisputably remain your father. You have his charisma after all. It is why the females are so easily drawn to you. Although Gibson couldn't have me too easily…"
"But he could, my mother. I comprehend the comparison."
"There's, in fact, nothing to compare." Mrs. Phellipe was deliberate with her words. "There's a thin line between loveful passion and sensual passion. You are old enough, you should know that."
"Does that," Thomas paused and clicked his tongue, "make you feel any better?"
"What should?"
"Likening my mother to a whore."
"Shut it, boy. When did I ever mention something as cruel?"
"You just did."
"Then you clearly misunderstood me."
"How?"
Thomas was squinting, and the woman stopped to breathe.
