My Son My Hero Novels & Stories

Clean. But my son? My son was a battle I couldn’t win. And I hated him for it.

That made the woman’s expression ease up, and she placed her child on the couch. When Kayson went over, the boy looked at him curiously. “Mister, are you a hero too?” “Me? I’m no hero,” Kayson answered with a smile. The boy’s eyes glowed as he claimed proudly, “Then my dad’s better. My dad’s a hero!” Cameron stilled on the side and felt his eyes getting wet. Kayson took out the tonic and said, “Your dad’s a hero, so you should be a hero too. You can’t cry when it hurts later, okay?”

I end the call before she can respond, my chest heaving with suppressed fury. Harry stirs beside me, already half-asleep. His tiny hand finds mine, squeezing lightly. "Daddy?" he mumbles, eyes fluttering closed. "Tell me 'bout the superhero now?" I force a smile, brushing his hair back. "Of course, little man. This one's about the strongest hero ever. A hero who fights for what's his and never fucking gives up." And right now, that hero isn't just fighting for his son. He's fighting for Violet, too.

"You're right. He must care about the baby inside of me because he loves me too much. He knew you wouldn't divorce your wife, but he still told me to come to you because he wanted me to give up." I nodded in satisfaction and spoke lightly. "Victor's parents died young. He owns a car and his own place. He has always wanted a family and a child of his own. He must be very happy now that he got to become a father without lifting a finger, and that the woman he loves is carrying the baby. As long as you're willing to marry him, forget fifty thousand, he would be willing to give you a hundred thousand."

"I’m sorry… for what my husband did to you. I’m sorry for everything." "It’s fine," I assured her. Her son suddenly ran forward, wrapping his small arms around my waist. "You’re my hero," he murmured. I froze, my chest tightening. "I didn’t do anything," I said softly. The boy pulled back, shaking his head. "You stopped me from losing my papa. That makes you my hero." Tears burned my eyes as I ruffled his hair. "You’re the best Luna ever," he grinned. His mother called him back, and he ran to her. I watched them disappear into the crowd, my heart full and aching all at once.

“Mr. Harris, I’ll be leaving for an overseas training program next month. This is my resignation letter.” He looked up, startled. “That’s sudden.” I gave him the explanation I had already prepared. “My son’s mother is in Australia. I’m taking him there so we can be together as a family.” Mr. Harris nodded. “That makes sense. Raising a child on your own here can’t have been easy. Honestly, most of us assumed you were a single dad.”

When he saw me, his face broke open. “Mom,” he said, crossing the space between us in three quick strides. The hug was fast and tight. I closed my eyes and let it happen. He smelled like laundry soap and cold air. “You made it,” he said. “Of course,” I said, handing him the laptop bag. “Here is your lifeline.” “You’re a hero,” he said. “Do you want to grab coffee? I’ve got an hour before class.” The offer lifted and tightened my chest at the same time. Being here felt good and dangerous in equal measure.

Josh was stunned by Mario's remark. Son of a traitor? What did he mean by that? Why did he call him that, Josh wondered. He found himself feeling offended and confused at the same time. He didn't like being called the son of a traitor, but he also didn't know why he had been called that. Could it be that maybe his father, whom he had never met had done something, that made Mario say that? “What do you mean by that?” Josh asked, his tone showing his displeasure at the undeserved accusation.

I explained rationally. Hunter stepped in front of me, his eyes flaring with determination. Oh, boy. “It’s my choice. I told mom and dad that I wanted to train with you. I just…want to be like you when I grow up. You’re so strong and smart…like a superhero,” he was blushing now. I smiled softly, down at the little boy. I was really growing fond of him, it was surprising. So innocent and sweet. But his words held a flaw. He portrays me as some hero, someone great and all mighty, when I’m just a runaway, trying to survive.

She explained that a little boy had seen Sofia's smartwatch background and insisted the person on it was his mother. While arguing, he tried to grab Sofia's smartwatch, and a fight ensued. Sofia stopped writing and packed her bag as soon as she saw me. Seeing her unharmed and collected, I felt relieved. Suddenly, a figure pounced on me, calling "Mom" repeatedly. Sofia frowned, pulling the boy away. "Ew, you got snot on my mom's dress." I finally recognized the boy as Jamie, my son, though he'd grown taller and lost his front teeth. He pointed at me, his eyes swollen but determined. "She's my mom! Give her back to me!"