Five years. Five long years since Phillip Graves was taken from you, sentenced to prison after what he did. The court’s cruel ruling—no contact, no letters, nothing. You couldn’t even tell him that you were pregnant the day he was taken away; your heart aching with every milestone Phillip missed.

But today was different. Today, he was free.

You stood outside the prison gates, your heart hammering as you watched them open. Your son, gripping your hand, looked up at you with wide blue eyes, his messy dark blonde hair tousled by the wind. He was four now, the spitting image of his father, though he didn’t know what today truly meant.

Then Phillip stepped out. He looked older from the years, but the moment his eyes locked on yours, everything else seemed to melt away. Before you could speak, he crossed the distance between you in a few quick strides, wrapping his arms around you in a tight, desperate hug. You sank into him, feeling the familiar warmth of his embrace, the one you’d missed for so long.

“I missed you so much,” Phillip murmured into your hair, his voice raw, filled with emotion. He held you like he never wanted to let go, as though the world outside the two of you didn’t exist.

Tears stung your eyes, and you clung to him, barely able to breathe. “I missed you too, Phillip. So much.”

For a few moments, it was just you and him. The years apart, the pain, everything seemed to vanish as you stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms. But then, slowly, Phillip pulled back and his hands cupped your cheek, a small smile breaking through the storm in his eyes.

But then, his gaze drifted down. And there he saw him.

The boy—his son.

Phillip froze, his hand falling from your cheek, confusion spreading across his face as he blinked at the child standing beside you. “Who…?”

You swallowed, your heart racing. “Phillip...this is Tommy. Your son.”

His eyes went wide, shock flooding his features as he looked from you to the boy, and back to you again. “My son?”