A Promise Between Mother and Son
“Sweetheart,” I said, my voice breaking. “Come here.”
He climbed into my lap — almost too big now, all elbows and knees, but he curled into me the same way he had when he was four.
I held him tightly. Tightly enough to feel his heart beating against my collarbone.
“I am so proud of you,” I whispered. “For loving your friend like that. Do you hear me? I am so, so proud of you.”
He nodded.
“But it is not your job to worry about money, Noah. That is my job. Yours is to be a kid. To eat your lunch. To grow.”
“But Eli.”
“We are going to take care of Eli. I promise you. You and me — we’ll figure it out together. Okay?”
He looked up at me.
“Together?”
“Together.”
And in that moment, sitting on the side of a quiet road, I knew something had to change.
I could not keep carrying everything alone.
