With the help of the embassy and local staff, I managed to take care of the final arrangents for Laura and her husband's family. Following local customs, I buried her in a peaceful place, free from the scars of war, where birds chirped and flowers blood—just the kind of place she loved most.
That night, I stayed by her grave the entire night, talking to her, reminiscing. I never imagined that when I saw her again, it would be to say goodbye forever.
After settling everything, it was ti to fulfill my promise and look after Laura's only child, the legacy she left behind.
Coincidentally, my wife Betty teaches Language Arts at Lincoln Middle School, the very school Laura's son attends. Given the suddenness of it all, I was unsure whether to discuss this sensitive matter with Betty.
After all, the boy was my first love's child. Would Betty accept him if she knew?
Knowing Betty, she would accept him, but there might be a knot in her heart, and we had never really prepared ourselves for adopting a child.
I explained the situation to the TV station and requested an early return to the U.S., which was quickly approved. So, with Laura's promise and her final trust in , I returned to the U.S. to find the boy I had never t, my future foster son, Michael Justin Davis.
The na "Michael Justin" must have a special aning—Laura must have chosen it, blending my na with her son's as a token of her enduring affection.
Though Laura had passed, her mory deepened in my heart. She didn't give a marriage, but she gave a child. Perhaps it was fate's way of nding the regrets Laura and I had.
I hadn't told Betty about this because I wasn't sure if she would accept it. Not just Betty—I was struggling to accept it myself. The thought of having a child who wasn't biologically mine call "Dad" felt strange, yet knowing his mother was Laura provided so comfort.
The mont I decided to adopt him, I resolved to slowly accept him and raise him as if he were my own son. I decided to keep the boy's identity a secret for now. Upon returning to the U.S., I went straight to Betty's school. I had called her in advance, and as I arrived at the gates of Lincoln Middle School, Betty was there waiting for , dressed in her professional attire.
As I got out of the car, she ran over and gave a big hug. After being apart for half a month, with only the TV to express our longing, our reunions were always filled with deep affection.
"Honey, why did you co back all of a sudden? You wouldn't tell why over the phone," Betty said, holding my hand as we walked through the campus.
"Betty, I need your help with sothing. There's a kid at your school, Lincoln Middle School, but I'm not sure what grade or class he's in. I only know his na," I started, unsure of how to broach the subject.
"What's going on? Are you on so kind of undercover assignnt?" Betty knew my job well, so any request from didn't surprise her.
I pondered for a mont, hesitating on how to explain. After so thought, I decided to be upfront with Betty. Honesty is key in a marriage, but I chose to keep the fact that the child's mother was my first love to myself. Although I had ntioned Laura to Betty before, I hadn't delved deep into our past because it was too painful.
I began to explain bit by bit. "While I was overseas, I t a woman from back ho. She passed away and entrusted her child to . Her na was Laura Brown, my first love, but that's all I've told you about her," I said to Betty.
Betty was stunned for a mont after hearing this, but she didn't say anything. She's a kind-hearted woman. She sighed, expressing her dismay at how war harms people, but she supported my decision, believing it was the right thing for a conscientious person to do. I felt relieved and grateful for her affirmation.
"By the way, what's the kid's na? I'll check the school records for you," Betty said, regaining her composure.
"His na is Michael Justin Davis..." I had already told Betty that the child was mixed-race. She always ntioned how unique and attractive mixed-race children looked on TV. Little did she know, I was about to bring one into our lives, and he was quite an uncommon mix.
"Ah... haha..." To my surprise, Betty chuckled upon hearing the na, covering her mouth with her hand. Her laughter was always so gentle and sweet.
"What's so funny, honey?" I was puzzled by her laughter, wondering if I had said sothing wrong.
"It's just that everything seems too coincidental. We don't need to check the school records. This Michael Justin Davis is actually a student in my class. He just started sixth grade, and I've been his horoom teacher for over half a year now..." Betty stopped laughing and smiled as she spoke.
"Uh..." I was speechless. It seed like fate had its own plans, making Betty his teacher.
"Indeed, the kid does look a bit unique. I've noticed him before. He has big eyes and slightly fuller lips. Overall, he doesn't really look Asian, more like an Arican," Betty recalled, then led to her classroom.
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