The knock came on my hotel door just as I was washing my face. No one knew what room I was in, save for Stephanie; but she'd just text me from the hospital, saying that John was awake again and asking for me.

"Who is it?" I asked as I walked from the bathroom to the door.

"It's Carol Cena," I heard a woman's voice call through the door.

I froze, one hand on the doorknob, and took a deep breath before opening the door to see John's mother standing there patiently.

"Please, come in," I said, trying to keep my voice from shaking.

She nodded her head, a small smile lighting her graceful features, and walked in, making her way directly to the small sofa in my hotel room. After shutting the door, I followed her and sat down on the opposite side of the couch, unsure of what to say.

"Is there something I can do for you?" I asked nervously.

"You can tell me why my son wakes up with your name on his lips instead of his Mama's," she said good-humoredly.

My eyes widened, "I—I—"

Her laughter stopped whatever I had been about to say.

"I'm joking Serene," she said easily, placing one hand over mine, "But he did ask for you my dear. And I wonder, because I see the look in your eyes; why you don't stay to see the man you're in love with."

I bowed my head, slightly ashamed, "I'm afraid," I whispered.

She blinked, "Afraid?" she asked me, "Of what?"

A solitary tear made a path down my cheek as I tried to gather my thoughts, "You're right," I said, finally looking up at her, "I'm very much in love with your son. But it scares me."

"Love scares you?" she asked.

I nodded, "I've only known John for two months, and yet—"

"You feel as though your life is not complete without him in it. But his choice of a career scares you as well," she murmured gently.

I only nodded my head, watching her.

"You wonder," she said after a moment, "How it is I knew you were in love with my son. It is because I am very much in love with his father; and when I look at him or speak of him; it is the same way you look at my son, the way you speak his name," she lifted a hand to caress my cheek; and for the first time, I truly understood what it was to feel a mother's love, "Then you think about how different you are, how you cannot possibly be together. And you think, even if you survive the odds; how many times will you have to watch him hurt himself, hurt others, be hurt by others and bury his pride or let it take over him in the face of everyone around him. How much can you take, you wonder, before you break down?"

My eyes shone with tears, almost every fear I had about even thinking of starting a relationship with him had just been taken care of by his own mother.

"Why?" I asked.

She smiled, "Because when my son opened his eyes, and your name was called; there was so much hope, and so much love in that one word, I knew that my baby had found the right woman."

And as I cried again, she held me tightly, shushing me and rocking back and forth. Murmuring words of comfort and love as she let me pour everything into her lap.