No More Mio Amore

Chapter 21 “Unselfish Love”

No man can possibly know what life means, what the world means, what anything means, until he has a child and loves it. - Lafcadio Hearn

 

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Tuesday, July 18, 2000

Craig wiped the tears out of his eyes as he looked through the window of his son’s hospital room. He wanted to go in and check on his son who was crying out in his sleep. But Jennifer got so upset when Justin did. Justin got upset every time a male walked into the room and he couldn’t risk his son waking to find him in there.

Justin had fully awoken from his coma on Father’s Day a month prior. It was the best gift he’d ever gotten; he held Justin’s hand, calling his name, begging his son to open his eyes. When the boy’s eyes opened, just barely, Craig felt as though he hadn’t been breathing and suddenly could once again. His breathing halted when Justin’s eyes focused on him, then a split second later, he screamed. Then, he kept screaming, thrashing, making noises derived from his gut and blowing air in and out of his nose and mouth.

Craig didn’t have a moment to get his head together enough to think of a way to calm his child. Various medical personnel and his wife, rushed into the room, ordering him to leave. He hadn’t been able to step foot in it again, neither could any other man. They soon realized that the staff had to switch Justin’s doctors to all women. Every time a man came into the room, they had to restrain Justin or sedate him; otherwise, they would risk his son injuring himself as he went into a catatonic panic attack.

It took four of the longest days before they realized this. A hospital intern who formerly studied psychology suggested the cause and effect scenario to Craig while in the cafeteria. The young woman, Nicole, was afraid that if she mentioned her theory to Justin’s doctor, they would view her as a man hater. Nevertheless, she divulged her theory to him and told Craig of another hate crime case where the boy attacked reacted in the same manner. Though that boy could remember his attack, it seemed obvious. They had no way of knowing whether Justin remembered Chris attacking him. Nicole rationalized that even if Justin didn’t remember consciously; a part of him had to and probably related all men to his attacker.

At first, Jennifer thought that her ‘husband’s idea’ was ludicrous when Craig suggested it. She believed that Justin’s fear came and went and had nothing to do with them being female or male. She believed that he trusted certain people instinctively and did not trust Craig. Hearing his wife’s theory hurt him more than he’d ever been hurt in his life. Craig didn’t understand why Jen suddenly hated him and how she could rationalize something so cruel and not bat an eye.

He had every right to speak to Justin’s doctor and when he did the man seemed skeptical of the idea. Craig demanded a psychologist see Justin and give his own findings, but the doctor didn’t feel it was necessary because of what they all annoyingly referred to as ‘Justin’s state’. Craig wanted a second opinion, he wanted to know about Justin’s mind and he finally raised enough Hell that a psychologist, Dr. Henry Ligget came to see Justin. He didn’t need to step more than two feet into Justin’s room before he knew something more than ‘Justin’s state’ was wrong.

Dr. Ligget, with help from Nicole, performed a short test and diagnosed Justin with a form of subconscious associative stimulus disorder. This meant that Justin had to be eased into being around males before he would become comfortable or accepting of them. The therapy to help him could not begin until Justin progressed with all of his other medical problems. Craig had known when he demanded for a psychologist to see Justin, that there was a huge possibility he would be unable to see his son until he had treatment. However, he put his child’s needs above his own. Now, he didn’t regret the decision, but as he watched Justin through the glass, unable to hold him, comfort him, he felt broken.

Chris Hobbes’ trial date went through delay after delay. Chris’ father bailed him out the night after the bashing and he walked around as a free man. Jennifer was unable to handle any of it and the responsibility to deal with everything regarding the trail fell upon him. Craig felt helpless. He was completely unable to help anyone in his family.

He couldn’t even sneak into Justin’s room while he slept and be with him because Jennifer was too worried that he would wake up and see him there. The thought of what pain he’d put Justin through scared him out of ever attempting it. Jennifer was good at that, scaring him, protecting their son from him.

Molly was another story. Jennifer had practically abandoned her. Molly was staying in Florida for the summer with her best friend’s family. He hoped that a summer without her daughter would make his wife realize what she was missing, but it didn’t seem like that was going to happen. However, he didn’t think that even if Justin was able to go home by then, which was doubtful, that it would change anything with Jennifer. When Molly came home, he would give his wife the chance, not for himself but for his daughter. If he she didn’t take it, then he would have to go ahead with his plans.

“Craig,” Jennifer hissed as she opened the door and pushed him away from the hospital room. “Were you going to come in there?”

“No,” Craig replied, backing away from his wife. “I just wanted to see how he is doing and I also came to tell you that Daphne’s mom called and left a message for the fifth time this week. You need to call her back.”

“Did you talk to her?” Jennifer asked.

“No, she called while I was at work, again. Please call her back and update her on Justin, I’m sure Daphne is worried. It can’t be easy for her being all the way over in London. I understand them being afraid of her coming around Justin, but not letting her see him or say goodbye to him is ridiculous! It’s just as ridiculous as them getting her a private tutor for the rest of her senior year when she would’ve graduated as valedictorian, not to mention her mother sending her to live in London.”

“They were just trying to protect her,” Jennifer said angrily. “You’re being too hard on them, Craig. A mother has to do what she feels is best to protect her child.”

Craig blanched at his wife’s words. “Are you saying that Justin is dangerous?” he barked.

“No,” Jen huffed. “You know that’s not what I think. But they think that being around Justin will make Daphne think about the attack and she’s already traumatized by it enough.”

“What about Justin?” he asked. “Don’t you think he deserves to have his best friend around him? Maybe she could help him.”

“I’m the only one that can help him,” Jennifer replied, turning and walking back into her son’s room.

“Mr. Taylor?”

Craig turned around and to face Dr. Joyce Ember. She was the head of Justin’s new team of doctors and kept him informed about his son’s progress, what little he made anyway. He couldn’t rely on Jennifer to tell him a thing; she lived in her own world when it came to Justin.

“How did it go today?” he asked.

Joyce frowned. “Not very good. He isn’t responding as we’d like and we want to move him to a facility that specializes in neuropsychological rehabilitation. I discussed this with your wife, but she seems to think that she can do it all on her own. I assure you Mr. Taylor; there is no way that she can do it on her own. He needs to be in a facility and get the best treatment there is if he is ever going to function at least at half the way he did before the attack.”

“My wife is against this?” Craig asked for clarification. She was so protective over Justin that he thought she would be all for him getting the best treatment he could.

“She believes that he would recover better at home with her,” Joyce told him. “This is not the case and I need you to convince her of this. Because Justin is incapable of making the decision you and Jennifer must both agree to it or you’ll need to get a court order.”

Craig shook his head in disbelief. “She’ll agree to it,” he told her. “I’ll speak with her tonight. You can begin to make arrangements for him at whatever facility you think is best.”

“I’m sorry I had to go behind her back, but I must do what is in my patient’s best interest. I believe your wife is suffering from Post Traumatic Stress syndrome and it’s bending her judgment.”

“I’m sure you’re right,” Craig replied. “I’ve tried to get her to see someone, but she spends so much time here with Justin, I don’t think she’d even consider it.”

“Well, if she wants to spend time with Justin at the facility, family therapy is required so hopefully they can help her there.”

“I hope so,” Craig spoke softly. “I hope so.”
 

****
 

“You’re doing a good job, Justin,” Jennifer encouraged, holding the cup of water for her son.

Justin clumsily sipped the straw in his mouth, struggling to swallow the liquid as it entered his mouth.

“Okay, okay,” Jennifer spoke, taking the straw out of his mouth when she heard Justin begin to gag. “You have to breathe, Justin.”

Justin watched the woman called Mom puff up her cheeks and blow on his face, he mimicked her action a few times and lay back on his pillow and closed his eyes. It was too tiring.

Jennifer grabbed the cloth towel and dabbed the drool away from Justin’s mouth. “You go ahead and rest, Sweetheart,” she whispered, grabbing his hand.

Justin bolted upright and groaned, pulling his arm away. “No!” He didn’t like anyone touching him if he couldn’t see who it was first.

Jennifer placed her hands on her lap. “Okay, okay, I won’t hold your hand.”

Justin moaned in distress as he put his head back down on his pillow and closed his eyes.

Tears pooled in Jennifer’s eyes as she watched her son struggle to calm himself. She could hardly believe that the boy before her was her son. He looked like Justin, and she loved him just as much as she had before the attack, but he was so far from being the young man she raised.

Jennifer had accepted that when Justin awoke, he would have some problems, but she was sure that her son’s inner strength would destine him to overcome them quickly. She couldn’t have been more wrong.

Justin’s long-term memory was non-existent, or so the doctors could assess so far. His brain damage appeared to be so severe that the moment Justin opened his eyes; it was as though he were opening his eyes for the first time. Anything he’d learned in his nearly eighteen years prior meant nothing.

The team of doctors told Jennifer that her son picked things up quicker than they expected. In the last month he’d learned to form three words; Mom, No and Bye. He also re-learned the basic mechanics of drinking and chewing oatmeal, though he hated the taste. However, that was all the progress Justin made.

All of his movements were jerky and would seize at any given time for no apparent reason. His reflexes lagged, he couldn’t hold anything in his hands and got angry and frustrated when he couldn’t move when he wanted to. Every thing had to be done for him with the exception of breathing, but even that he forgot to do if he was awake.

Justin did not recognize anyone. He did not know what a doctor was or what they did. He did not understand the difference between living in his hospital room and living at him. He didn’t know what a mother was or how it was that Jennifer was his Mom. He accepted what the people told him but didn’t understand many of the things Jen said to him. He didn’t recognize every day items and had no clue what they were used for. When he was cold, it didn’t occur to him to cover with his blanket, when his hand started to throb he didn’t know how to tell anyone where he was hurting. His mother showed him pictures in books and he learned them, but it was slow going.

When his mother brushed his teeth, the sensation seemed foreign but it tickled him and made him laugh. His own laughter was different to his mother’s ears, but it made her lips turn up and her face looked like the picture that sat beside his bed with the man called his Dad and the little girl called his sister Molly.

Justin didn’t like looking at the pictures his Mom showed him. He didn’t know what he was feeling inside, but he didn’t like it. It made his eyes pour water down his face and made the loud noises come from his throat his mother called it crying.

Justin wanted to know the things the doctors, nurses and his mother wanted to teach him because something inside him drove him toward independence. He didn’t know that was the reason, but it worked and gave him patience through the hours and hours of therapy and teachings.

However, he couldn’t control the emotional ups and downs or his seizures that came usually right after one of these peaks. That morning he’d knocked the nurse over that was trying to change his I.V. while he’d been sleeping. He didn’t know why he’d done it and hardly remembered doing it and didn’t understand why it was wrong, but it was what led Doctor Joyce to realize that he needed specialized help.
 

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London

“Daphne?”

Daphne turned toward the male voice calling her name. “Doctor Banks,” she greeted, smiling as the man reached her.

“Mitchell,” he corrected warmly. “I saw you walking down the hall and wanted to catch up with you and see how your daughter is doing.”

Daphne shifted her arms so that the doctor could see her sleeping daughter’s face. “Justice is doing fine. We just had her one-month check up.”

“She looks gorgeous,” Mitchell, praised, “and so do you.”

“Thank you,” Daphne replied, blushing.

“I was glad to see you today, I’ve been thinking about you.”

“You have?” the girl asked surprised. “Why?”

“Well, I know that being an American in London is hard to get used to. It must be exceptionally hard for you being a new mother.”

“I’m adjusting,” Daphne, answered. “My grandmother wanted to hire a nanny to help me care for Justice, but I wanted to try it on my own first and I think I’ve done pretty well,” she said proudly.

“I’m glad for you,” Mitchell said. “Has her father been able to visit?”

“No,” Daphne sighed. It killed her to think about Justin, she couldn’t stop thinking about him. But her mother had called and told her yesterday that there was still no change for Justin.

“Well, he doesn’t know what he’s missing,” Mitchell replied.

Daphne frowned at the doctor. “No, he doesn’t, but that isn’t his fault.”

“Didn’t you tell him you were pregnant?” he asked.

“I told him, but… he, Justin is…”

Justice awoke and began to cry, interrupting her mother’s explanation.

“I’ve got to get going,” Daphne said, bouncing her daughter lightly and digging the pacifier out of her purse. “I only brought one bottle with me and she finished that off while we were waiting to be seen by the pediatrician,” she said worriedly.

“Are you taking a bus home?” Mitchell asked, almost positive that Daphne had yet to obtain a British driver’s license.

Daphne calmed down when Justice began to greedily suck on the pacifier and settle. “No, I’ll be walking with her. My grandmother lives on the next street over.”

“Can I walk with you?” Mitchell asked. “I’m heading home myself and I live in the building on the corner of Crest and Lund.”

Daphne grinned. “Really? We live on Lund.”

“I recently bought an apartment there, it’s a beautiful area. The park in the center will be nice to have so close for when Justice gets older.”

“Yes,” Daphne said dreamily. “I’ve already imagined taking her there as soon as she can sit up in one of those baby swings.” She began to walk down the hall toward the elevators and the gorgeous doctor fell into step beside her.

“Please let me carry that diaper bag, Daphne.”

“Are you sure you want to look like a Daddy?” she joked.

Mitchell shrugged as he took the bag from her. “I don’t mind people thinking I had a beautiful baby with a beautiful woman.”

Daphne’s heart fluttered at that statement; but then she felt deep aches of guilt rumble through her body. She liked Mitchell and she wasn’t blind to what the doctor’s obvious intentions were with befriending her. However, she wasn’t going to forget about Justin, even if in the future she and Mitchell formed more than a friendship. Justice had a father, she deserved to know her father and Daphne knew that Justin would want to know his daughter.

Her mother, father and grandmother wanted to fix her life the way they saw it fit. She didn’t have any other choice than to go along with their decision to move her to London. Her parents had given her three options when she told them that she was pregnant. They wanted her to give the child up for adoption, move to London and stay with her grandmother, or leave their home and lives indefinitely. Without Justin, she knew there was no way she could give her daughter a good life on her own; she definitely couldn’t raise her child in a way that would make Justin proud of her. So living with her insensitive, controlling grandmother was her best option. For now.

No matter what, the moment she got word that Justin awoke, she would leave London and go back to Pittsburgh. Daphne had absolutely no doubt in her mind that Justin would want to be a part of their child’s life; he would help her. They wouldn’t be a ‘normal’ family, but she had faith that they would make Justice have an amazing life with both of her parents.
 

****
 

Pittsburgh

“Ma!” Gus yelled for Cynthia the moment she walked through the loft door.

Brian smiled at his friend and brought his son over to Cynthia. “I’m so glad you’re here. He’s been asking for you since he woke up.”

Cynthia kissed Gus and held him close to her. “I guess he had a little too much fun at my house last weekend.”

“Nah,” Brian replied, “he had an amazing time. I’m sure he liked being somewhere without me for once.”

“He was a very good boy, but you talked to him on the phone and you know he really missed you.”

“When I first offered to bring the rest of Melanie’s things to her cousin, I thought I would be taking Gus with me but after she called to tell me she had a cold, there was no way. I’m just glad you agreed to take him on such short notice.”

“Anytime, Brian. You know we always have a good time together,” Cynthia replied.

“Ma, yink,” Gus asked, giving the woman a puppy dog expression.

“You want a drink?” Cynthia asked the little boy. “All right, I suppose I can get you one.”

“I bought some new juice boxes. They’re that pedialyte stuff that he likes so much. He learned how to drink from a straw yesterday.”

“That’s great,” Cynthia said, grabbing one from the fridge.

Brian watched as the woman moved so easily around the kitchen with Gus on her hip. He still fumbled trying to do anything while carrying the boy. He knew that no one could replace Lindsay or Melanie in Gus’ life and that Cynthia never tried to.

He was sure that some people might think it odd that Gus called her Ma, but Brian didn’t think it was odd it all. Lindsay and Melanie were unable to be in Gus’ life. Gus would always know that he had two other women that had wanted desperately to be his mother, but now with Cynthia he would be able to experience having a person in his life that was as close to a mother as he would ever have. Many children were raised in blended families. If Brian ever got into a relationship with a man who became a second father to Gus, not that he saw that happening, but if he did, it would benefit Gus to have another person love him. This was all the more reason that he was thankful to have his friend so present in Gus’ life.

Cynthia’s relationship with Gus proved to benefit all three of them. It especially made him less fearful about raising Gus and wondering what his future with his son would be like. He needed the woman in his life and he knew that Gus needed her too.

“Cynthia, I need to talk to you about something.”

“What about?” Cynthia asked as she placed Gus in his highchair and handed him his juice box.

Brian grabbed the Gerber wafers and handed two to Gus, making the little boy squeal in delight, the sound piercing both adults’ eardrums. “Well, now I’m not too sure I want to have this conversation,” he joked.

Cynthia gave Brian a curious expression. “Okay,” she said coyly. “Then I’m going to go home.”

“Oh stop,” Brian laughed. “I need to ask you something.”

“Ask away,” Cynthia, said easily, taking a seat on one of the bar stools.

“When Michael was here last week, he noticed Gus calling you Ma,” Brian told her.

“He just now noticed that?” Cynthia laughed.

“Yeah, well he’s slow on the uptake I guess. Anyway, he brought something up that I wanted to discuss with you.”

“I take it he has a huge problem with my relationship with you and Gus,” Cynthia guessed.

Brian ran his hand over his face as he nodded. “He thinks it’s odd.”

“I don’t really care what he thinks,” Cynthia replied. “I care what you think.”

“I think that Gus and I wouldn’t have made it if it weren’t for you,” Brian admitted. “But I wonder if I put you in an awkward position.”

“What are you talking about?” Cynthia asked in confusion. “I’m fine, Brian.”

“Do you feel obligated to stick around here, around Gus and me? I mean, you could do anything, Cyn. You don’t have to spend your time helping me cope, helping me raise him.”

Cynthia looked at Brian as though he was crazy. “You and Gus are not an obligation. You’re my…” she paused and her words became a whisper, “my family.”

Brian smiled at the woman. “You are,” he assured her. “But, I want you to know that if you ever feel like we’re crowding your life, you can just say so.”

Cynthia placed her hand on top of Brian’s and smiled at him. “I didn’t have a life before, Brian. You know that.”

“Neither did I,” Brian admitted, squeezing his friend’s hand.

“Dada, bana,” Gus yelled. He held out a piece of his mashed banana toward his father.

Brian winced. “Oh no, buddy, that’s for you.”

“Bite, Dada. Bite,” Gus said waving his hand, pieces of the fruit splattering the kitchen.

Cynthia giggled. “You’d better go take a bite before he throws it to you.”

“Oh god,” Brian mumbled, rising from his stool. “That’s disgusting.”

“But he’s sharing,” Cynthia told him. “Think of it as a good thing.”

Brian caught Gus’ hand between two fingers and bent down. “Okay, give me a bite,” he said reluctantly.

Gus pushed the banana toward his father’s open mouth and squealed in delight when Brian ate it.

Brian barely held back from gagging. “Thank you, Gus.”

Cynthia laughed hysterically at Brian’s painful expression.

Gus grinned at his father and offered another piece.

Brian turned to Cynthia. “This time, it’s your turn to appreciate his sharing.”

“Dada!” Gus yelled, shoving the banana toward Brian. “Dada!”

“He wants to share with you,” Cynthia laughed.

Brian rubbed his stomach and gave his son a pleading look. “Daddy’s not hungry, Gus. You eat it.”

Gus grabbed another handful and shoved his fists into his mouth.

“Good boy,” Brian told his son, grabbing a washcloth to clean up.

“Just wait until he’s old enough for spaghettios,” Cynthia snickered. “Just think of all the orange mess you’ll have to clean up.”

Brian shook his head. “Those will not be allowed in my house.”

“What about when he goes to Debbie’s and she feeds him lasagna,” she teased. “You won’t be able to stop her.”

“And she’ll be the one cleaning him up,” Brian told her, giving her an evil smirk as began to wash his son’s hands.

Cynthia glanced at her watch. “The reason you asked me over, was that just to talk about my relationship with Gus?” she asked.

Brian carried Gus into the living area and placed him on the white rug, which was now covered in various stains. “No. Let me get him his toys and I’ll show you what I’ve been working on.”

“You’ve been working?” Cynthia asked in shock, sitting down on the stained white sofa. Every time she went over to Brian’s loft, she saw new stains adorning his white furniture. She never mentioned them, of course. However, she was pretty sure that Brian was in complete denial; he could definitely afford to get new pieces. Cynthia knew she would have to broach that subject carefully someday soon.

“Oh shut up,” Brian grumbled, handing Gus his favorite ABC book. “I do other things then play with Gus.”

Cynthia laughed. “Really?”

“I did,” Brian protested, “I do!”

“What?” the woman laughed. “You expect me to believe you’ve actually found the time to work?”

“Well I was bored when I was sitting in the hotel room and last night after I put Gus to sleep I finished this.” Brian walked over to his desk, retrieved a large black folder and handed it to Cynthia.

“Kinnetik!” Cynthia gasped as she stood up from the couch and flipped open the folder.

“It’s something that came to me when I was reading to that kid in the hospital,” Brian told her. “There was a chapter about children being tactile or kinetic learners and the word kinetic stuck with me.”

“I like the way you spelled it,” Cynthia praised, running her finger along the logo Brian sketched on the first page.

“Yeah, yeah,” Brian said, looking over her shoulder. “But what do you think about the rest?”

“Let me look without you breathing over my shoulder,” she said, sitting back down. Cynthia flipped through a couple pages and was very surprised to see how detailed Brian was with everything.

Brian nervously played blocks with Gus as Cynthia looked over the proposal for partnership. He had spent a lot of time thinking and perfecting just how he wanted to begin the advertising agency and he knew that Cynthia would back him. He only hoped that she would not only want to be his assistant, but his partner in the company too.

Cynthia looked over at Brian and grinned. “This is perfect, Brian,” she spoke happily.

“So you accept?” Brian asked.

“Of course I do,” Cynthia replied. “You didn’t actually think I wanted to spend the rest of my life being an assistant. That isn’t what I went to school for.”

“And you’re far too talented for that,” Brian added.

“So when do we get started?” Cynthia asked, practically jumping in her seat from the excitement she felt about the new venture.

“First, we have to get clients,” Brian said.

“I saw the list of potentials,” the woman said, flipping to page. “Do you really think we can get Remsen Pharmaceuticals?”

Brian shrugged and replied confidently. “That isn’t a wish list, Cynthia. We will get each and every one of those accounts, and more.”

“We will,” she replied happily. “But we’ll need other employees, Brian. You’ll have to start interviewing people immediately.”

“I’ll put an ad in the classifieds and on the net tomorrow,” Brian assured her. “We’ll get fresh talent and we’ll be way ahead of any other agency as far as ideas and art is concerned.”

“What about office space? We have to have office space for the employees first.”

“Then we’ll have to go shopping,” Brian replied.

“For furniture?” Cynthia asked, her eyes zeroing in on a blue spot on the cushion.

“That too,” Brian laughed, seeing where Cynthia’s eyes rested. “But I meant for office space.”

“Good,” Cynthia said, flipping the folder closed. “It’s early, let’s get Gus ready to go.”

“Now?” Brian asked, picking Gus up and standing.

“Yes,” Cynthia replied enthusiastically. “I’m ready to get started.”

“I don’t have a real-estate agent yet,” Brian protested.

“Well then we need to go find one,” Cynthia reasoned.

“I guess so.” Brian smiled and walked over to Gus’ changing table. “So Gus, if I hate the place and she likes it, you get to the break the tie,” he whispered in his son’s ear.

Gus giggled and nodded his head as Brian placed him on his back.

“I heard that,” Cynthia laughed. She grabbed one of Gus’ outfits from his drawers and gasped, “I thought you promised not to buy him any more baby diesel clothes! You saw how quickly he grew out of them and stained them.”

Brian shrugged as he grabbed the overalls and t-shirt. “I bought this a long time ago,” he lied.

Cynthia opened Gus’ shoe drawer and shook her head at that abundance of designer shoes. “Jesus, Brian!”

Brian grinned as pulled the black t-shirt over Gus’ head. “He picked them out,” he told her. That part was actually true. Gus had an obsession with shoes and wanted to hold them whenever they went shopping.

“But you didn’t have to buy them,” Cynthia told him, picking out a pair of black All-Stars.

“I have to make Gus happy,” Brian defended, kissing his son’s cheek.

“Dada luv,” Gus sighed, grabbing Brian’s face between his hands and kissing him back.

Brian turned to Cynthia and gave her a silly grin. “See, I make him happy.”

“You make him happy without buying him shoes, Dada,” Cynthia replied confidently, smiling at the father and son. “You’ve become the most unselfish man I’ve ever known.”

Brian couldn’t reply to Cynthia; he felt choked with emotion. His friend always had a way of saying things that made him want to strive to be an even better man and not let her down. This was exactly why he loved that she would be a huge influence on his son’s life.
 

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