Biologically, Noah was not mine.
But when I showed him the results, I grabbed his hand.
“You are still my son.”
He whispered quietly,
“I know… but I feel lost.”
“I do too,” I admitted.
Meeting Elaine Again
The next Sunday, I waited outside on the porch.
This time, when Elaine walked up the driveway carrying pink roses, she saw me standing there.
“You came,” she said softly.
“We did the test,” I told her.
Before she could reply, Noah stepped outside.
She froze.
“You’re Elaine,” Noah said.
She nodded.
“Yes.”
He swallowed.
“So you’re my biological mother.”
Tears ran down her face.
“Yes.”
The Reason She Came
Noah asked the question that had been hanging in the air.
“Why now?”
Elaine took a shaky breath.
“Because I’m sick.”
“Cancer. Late stage.”
The porch fell silent.
“I didn’t come to take you,” she continued.
“I came to thank her.”
She looked at me.
“She gave you the life I couldn’t.”
Love.
A home.
Stability.
The Flowers
Noah looked at the roses.
“So the flowers… what were they?”
Elaine wiped her eyes.
“My gratitude,” she said.
“My apology.”
“And my last chance to say something.”
Noah’s voice cracked.
“You can’t drop this on me and then disappear.”
“I know,” she whispered.