My worry for my mother ended the night I saw my new father sitting on the porch swing with her.
She had been healing most of the day and fallen asleep beside him.
He had his head leaned against hers as he stared at the sky. “Architect,” he whispered. “I don’t know what I did to deserve her, but please, never let me stop doing it.”
He would do anything for her, and I wished again I was his son by blood.