I rolled over on my stomach and turned my head from the clock so I couldn't keep watching the time pass, It was a warm night with breeze and the candles added to the heat of the room making me hot. Bending my legs I used my feet to pull the sheet down to my waist and sighed when at the slight breeze through the window caressed my now bare back.

I closed my eyes, silently begged for the miracle of my son's forgiveness and mercifully drifted off to sleep.

I opened my eyes and blinked to try to clear them. I had no idea what time it was, but it was still dark. I lifted my head from the pillow and released a startled yelp when I saw a shadow reflected in the mirror over the bureau, Paul was sitting on the edge of the bed, watching me.

“Paul!" I rolled over and sat up so quickly the sheet fell away, exposing my breasts, “Oh, shit!" I swore, pulling it back up and holding it to my chest.

I gave him a nervous smile, “Little late for modestly I suppose."

“Hey, mom." He said softly, ignoring my remark, “You okay?"

“am I okay?" Talk about twisting the knife, I hurt him and he was asking if I was alright.

"Honey, who gives a shit about me, are you okay?"

Paul didn't answer right away and I forced myself to remain silent and let him say whatever he needed to. He was looking at my bare shoulders and my hand clutching the sheet to my chest. Could he possibly still be attracted to me?

“I'm better than I was when I left." He said finally, “But still not really right, if you know what I mean."

“I know exactly what you mean, baby, I can't tell you how sorry I am for what I did." It was lame, but all I had. There weren't words for what I'd done or how bad I felt.

“It wasn't what you did, but how you did it." He replied, "I didn't want you like that." He grunted, “Well, okay maybe just not at first. I wanted our first time to be nice."

Good god, he was still talking about us together. But after what happened earlier, I let it go. We could talk about that impossibility another time. Right now I was thrilled to see him and even happier he was speaking to me at all.

"I don't know what happened Paul." I wasn't lying, "You made me so angry and I just lost it. I don't know what the hell I was thinking or why I would ever do that to you."

“It's my fault."

"Don't say that." I pointed at him, “None of this is your fault, Paul, it's me. If I had never gone back, if I hadn't shown you that side of me in the present your fantasies would have never gotten this far."

"Yes they would." He said simply, "I love you mom, and even though you made fun of me and might again, it's in every way."

"I won't ever make fun of you again, honey. I promise and we'll talk about this us thing okay?"

“I'd like that, but for now, I'm sorry mom. You were right, I knew all this time and should have said something. I let you worry and feel guilty and Like you said I was even playing games with it. I don't blame you for being mad."

“I shouldn't have been that mad."

“The Malcolm thing....I don't know what the hell I was thinking. I doubt he'll say anything, he'll just perv on the idea, but I made you look really bad."

“No one can make me look worse than I did earlier, no one but me."

“and I don't hate you and should have never said that. Mom, you're amazing. You love me, take care of me, you sacrificed your dignity for me. At least in your eyes because I don't think you need to be ashamed of what you do.”

“That's sweet and better than I deserve." Carefully tucking the sheet around me, I put my arms out to him, “Come here, honey.”

Tears of joy and relief sprang into my eyes when he leaned in and hugged me. He was so much better than I deserved. Paul's hands lightly rubbed my bare upper back and when he kissed my cheek, it wasn't a peck, but a slow, soft caress of his lips.