Not the quiet tears I had shed alone in hotel rooms.
Not the grief I had carried for a year.
These were tears of shock, relief, anger, and a love so overwhelming I couldn’t name it.
Eric stood a few feet away, crying silently.
“What did you name him?” I whispered.
Eric smiled through his tears.
“We didn’t.”
I looked down at the little boy.
“Then we’ll choose his name together.”
Eric nodded.
But before I could say anything else, he stepped closer.
“I need you to know one more thing.”
I looked at him.
“I didn’t bring him here because I was hiding another family.”
He took a shaky breath.
“I brought him home because this was the first place that ever belonged to both of you.
I wanted the first time you met him to be here.”
I looked around our bedroom.
My side of the bed.
