Always, that lopsided smile on those thick lips, those lazy, happy eyes, and that mess of hair weakened my knees. Far from the most masculine man, he was certainly a heart-breaker. If only he wasn’t my son.
He looked nothing like my husband, but his resemblance to his father was also only faint. Many people said he looked like me. I always wondered about that. Did that make me a narcissist instead of an incestual freak? Not that it mattered. Even though I hid how I felt, I was not ashamed. Read the rest of this entry »