Page 87 of Knox's Boy

"Mom, this is Florian," I said. "My partner."

Florian looked like he was facing a firing squad. He swallowed hard, then managed a shaky bow of his head. "It’s… it’s an honor to meet you, Mrs. Knox."

My mother studied him. She took in the blond hair, the nervous energy, the defiant tilt of his chin that he couldn't quite suppress even now. I braced myself for a critique, a sharp comment about his age.

Instead, her face softened into a genuine smile.

She patted the chair beside her. "Come sit here," she said.

Florian hesitated, glancing at me. I nodded. He stepped forward until he was within reach. My mother cupped his cheek. Florian flinched instinctively but then leaned into her touch.

"You have beautiful eyes," she said. "And you’re trembling. Robert, pour the boy some tea. He looks like a startled fawn."

Florian let out a breath and a small laugh. "I… yes, ma’am. A little startled. I'm sorry."

"None of that 'ma'am' nonsense," she chided gently, dropping her hand. "Sit. Both of you. Son, I missed you."

I moved to the velvet settee opposite her chair, pulling Florian down beside me. We sat close, thigh to thigh. As I poured the tea from the ornate silver service, Darjeeling, her favorite, I saw Florian relax a little. She hadn't eaten him alive. In fact, she was watching him with something that looked suspiciously like delight.

As we had tea and talked, the tension in the room dissolved slowly. My mother, it seemed, was determined to dismantle my dignity piece by piece.

"He was eight," she was saying, her eyes dancing with mischief as she looked at Florian. "And convinced he was a superhero. The neighbor’s cat, a perfectly capable creature named Milk, was in the oak tree. Robert decided Milk required saving."

Florian grinned, glancing at me over the rim of his teacup. "Let me guess. He organized a committee to evaluate the climbing risk?"

"He marched right up that tree," she chuckled. "Got stuck on the third branch. Milk climbed down immediately, leaving my brave boy clinging to the bark, wailing for the fire department."

"I wasn't wailing," I protested, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks. "I was… calling for help?"

Florian laughed. "Oh my god. Daddy, that’s adorable."

My mother’s eyes sharpened at the term 'Daddy', but she didn't flinch.

A knock at the glass door interrupted us. Dr. Aris stood there, looking solemn with her blond hair in a bun, holding a thick file.

"If you’ll excuse us," I said, standing up. The dread returned instantly, cold and heavy. "I need to speak with the doctor."

"Go on," my mother waved a hand dismissively. "Florian and I have plenty to discuss."

I stepped out into the hallway, pulling the glass door partially closed but not latching it. The conversation with Aris was grim: medication adjustments, monitoring oxygen levels, and the inevitability of decline. I listened, nodded, and authorized whatever was needed, but my attention was split. I didn't want to waste one second away from my mom and Florian.

As the doctor walked away toward the study to write a prescription, I turned back to the conservatory. I paused at the threshold, hidden by the heavy velvet drapes. My mother had leaned forward. She had reached out and taken Florian’s hand in hers.

"I haven't seen my son this happy in years," she said. "His father... well, he was a good man, but rigid. Robert inherited that iron spine. He’s carried the world on his shoulders since forever. His dad… he didn't really understand Robert. He didn't understand why he wouldn't date women. But it was never a problem for me. You are who you are." She squeezed Florian’sfingers. "Whatever you're doing to make him look lighter, child, please continue."

Florian looked down at their joined hands, his voice soft. "I don't do anything special. I'm just… me. Sometimes I worry I'm too much trouble. Or too young."

My mother laughed softly. "Age is a number for accountants, not lovers. My own husband was fifteen years my senior. He was my rock, just as Robert’s yours." She winked. "Love doesn't concern itself with calendars, young man. It concerns itself with who stays when the storm comes."

I felt a stinging behind my eyes. I had spent years building walls, presenting a façade of invulnerability to the world, and even to her. To hear her acknowledge my happiness and credit Florian for it… was an absolution I hadn't known I needed.

It took me a second, but I composed myself and stepped back into the room. "Everything is settled," I announced, though my voice was thicker than usual. They smiled warmly at me.

***

When it was time to leave, my mother held Florian’s hand for a long moment. "You will come back," she ordered. "And stop calling me Mrs. Knox. It makes me feel ancient. Call me Amber."

"I will," Florian promised. "Thank you, Amber."