Once the initial shock of being hugged so suddenly by her son wore off, Celia pulled Henry into the room so they could visit for a few moments. She was aware that he probably came because he needed to talk to her about something.
Though the look on his face made her wonder if something was the matter. She supposed that maybe he finally had a crush on someone and needed advice. In true romance novel writer fashion, all sorts of ideas swam around in her mind until she felt Henry gently pull her to the armchair that sat at the foot of her bed and in front of a fire place that had a small, safe fire burning.
By the pages on the table next to the chair, it was clear she had been writing before he interrupted her. The familiar sight made his heart clench. He thought of how comfortable of a writing spot she had for the first time in her life.
