Gideon grasped what Noel was trying to say, yet his mind refused to accept it. Why would this child want Summer to be his mother when he already had one?
He convinced himself the alcohol was clouding his thoughts. He wasn't thinking straight. Since he had been missing Summer, his mind started imagining things. But the doubts still lingered, prompting him to question.
"What did you say? I don't understand."
Noel tapped his chest, then shaped his little fingers into a heart shape, pointing at Summer's photograph. He wrapped his arms around himself and looked up at Gideon, tilting his head with quiet hope in his eyes.
No words were needed. Gideon understood all too clearly.
The boy liked Summer. He wanted her to be his mother.
Gideon's face went rigid as a sharp, crushing pain spread through his chest—pain for Summer, whom he had hurt beyond repair, and pain for himself, for the happy life he had ruined with his own hands.
