Ábel raced towards his mother to hug her tight, "Will you stay like before the divorce?"
"I can't." Elizabeta's eyes brimmed with slight tears.
"Why not?" Ábel pouted as he stared up at his mother.
"Your father and I got a divorce. We aren't supposed to live together anymore." Elizabeta bites back her tears as she tugs her now almost teenage son close.
It hurts to think that he's been growing up without her, but even she knew what she was signing up for.
It had burned and tugged to be pulled apart from him like her arm had been ripped off then set on fire as many looked on laughing at her misery.
Hungary had loved her son's father once, dreamed of their future with sweet, little Burgenland, their only son, only child together.
She tried to stand strong; her son wasn't weak, and she shouldn't appear weak in front of him after all these years.
"I missed you." Ábel pouts and nearly looks like he was before the divorce: years younger.
She bites back her pain, helplessness, and speaks back up, "I missed you too. I love you." She wishes that she could appear strong before him now, not broken or nearly shattered as that forced divorce made her feel, not confused from missing her ex, and certainly not feeling like a terrible mother for missing what felt like an eternity of her son's life.
"I love you too, Mommy." That phrase simply transported her back in time to countless hours spent caring for her son and close moments when she and Austria could talk along, revel over parenthood together.
Hungary smiles for once in what feels like forever and kisses Burgernland's forehead, feeling less lost in the world again now that she can visit her son and watch him slowly grow up again.