Tears welled up in my eyes as I gently touched his hair, my fingers tracing the contours of his head. I wanted to believe his words, to let myself be enveloped in the comfort of the past, but the painful reality still lingered.
The presence of the maid cast a shadow on the fragile moment we had created. With a quiet plea, I had asked her to leave, to give us a chance.
"Will you please go from here?"
"Ma'am!"
The girl hesitated but finally acquiesced, understanding that this was a moment that needed to be embraced or perhaps shattered.
"Please," I said.
That girl did not wait there and walked out of there, leaving us alone.
Paul clung to me as though he could never let go, as though he were afraid that I would slip through his fingers like a fleeting dream. I caressed his disheveled hair, my fingers trembling as I tried to take in the magnitude of the moment.
"Paul, you need to sleep."
