Life is good.
At least, Emma tells herself it is.
They live in an apartment in Manhattan, she and her son. Looking at him after tucking him in at night on weekdays- despite his protests, Mom, come on, I'm thirteen- she still remembers that moment when everything changed, when she finally decided to look at the child she had just given birth to, to hold him just once in her arms. That was when she knew she could never let him go.
And she hasn't.
For thirteen long years, it has been the two of them against the world, overcoming all the odds, facing all the difficulties that life throws at them. And despite the hardships, it's been good. Not easy by far- the scars and bruises she takes home after catching a particularly vicious thug are a testament to that- but life was never meant to be handed to her on a silver platter by a fairy godmother. She's had to fight tooth and nail for every inch she's got.
And she's happy. She tells herself that every second of every day and ignores the pang of loss she feels when Henry pulls out his schoolwork and it's a family tree. She ignores the ache of familiarity that swells inside her when she sees a pixie-haired brunette sip a cup of cocoa at the diner she occasionally visits for lunch. She ignores the feeling that something's wrong, something's wrong, look for it, find it and goes about her day with a smile.
She has Henry. She has her son.
What more could she ask for?
Random oneshot that bothered me in the middle of the night till I got up and wrote it down. I hope you liked it.
'Another Life' readers, I'm really, really sorry for the delay. The next few chapters will be slower than usual, but I promise you that I'll resolve that cliffhanger sooner or later.
Please R & R!