The rain drummed softly against the window, a rhythmic sound that filled the silence of the small, dimly lit room. Maria sat in her armchair, a cup of tea in her hands, its warmth doing little to soothe the chill creeping into her heart. She stared into the steam rising from the cup, her mind wandering to a place she dared not let herself linger.

Across the room, Ethan leaned against the kitchen counter, his tall frame illuminated by the faint glow of the ceiling light. He was engrossed in something on his phone, but Maria couldn't help stealing glances at him. The sharp line of his jaw, the confident way he carried himself, the quiet strength that radiated from him—it was a far cry from the boy she used to tuck into bed every night.

He had grown into a man—a remarkable one.

Maria's thoughts felt traitorous, and she scolded herself silently, gripping the teacup tighter. He's your son, she reminded herself for the thousandth time. This is wrong. This is unthinkable.

But the reminders were becoming harder to heed.

It wasn't that she had suddenly stopped seeing him as her child. That bond, that unconditional love, was still there. It always would be. But somewhere along the line, amidst the years of shared struggles and quiet triumphs, Ethan had become more than just her son. He had become her equal, her partner, her closest confidant.

And lately, Maria had begun to notice the way he looked at her too.

It wasn't overt—never overt. But there were moments, fleeting and impossible to dismiss, where his gaze lingered too long, where his touch was too gentle, where his words carried a weight they hadn't before. Moments that sent her heart racing and her thoughts spiraling into places she couldn't escape.

"Mom, you okay?"

Ethan's voice pulled her from her reverie. She looked up to find him watching her, his brow furrowed in concern. The warmth in his eyes, so familiar yet so disarming, made her chest tighten.

"I'm fine," she said quickly, forcing a smile. "Just lost in thought."

He crossed the room and sat on the couch across from her, his presence filling the small space like a comforting balm and a suffocating weight all at once.

"You've been working too hard," he said, his tone gentle. "You need to take care of yourself too."

Maria's heart ached at the tenderness in his voice. It wasn't fair. None of this was fair. She shouldn't feel this way, shouldn't want to hold onto these moments, shouldn't want to reach out and—

She shook her head, breaking the thought before it could take root. "I'll be fine, Ethan. You don't have to worry about me."

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his eyes never leaving hers. "I'll always worry about you, Mom. You've done so much for me… It's my turn to take care of you now."

The words were innocent, yet they carried an undercurrent that made her stomach flutter. She looked away, unable to meet his gaze any longer.

The rain outside grew heavier, a steady drumbeat against the glass, mirroring the storm within her.

Maria had always thought she knew what love was—unwavering, selfless, pure. But this… this was something else entirely. Something dangerous, something forbidden.

And it terrified her how much she wanted it.