Stone Circle Homesick

And so she does, arms encircling, brushing a kiss to his forehead and bringing him to her chest carefully so as not to jostle the newborns nursing at her belly.

She knows she has no right to feel it, but she cannot stifle a sense of defeat.

For Skáld, she tries. She lets herself admire him in the ways he is growing, even if the possessive part of her loathed any change that set distance between them.

But she realizes something else, stronger and that eclipses even her most selfish grasp for the way things had been:

“I’m so proud of you.”