“I wish he had known,” Eleanor began, her voice breaking, “that nothing could have made me love him less. I wish he had known that he and his happiness meant more to me than any societal expectation or prejudice.”

Maya nodded, tears still glistening on her cheeks. “He loved you, he really did. He spoke so highly of you, and how he wanted his son to know his grandmother.”

Eleanor approached Maya and the child, her resolve firming despite the emotional storm within her. “What’s his name?” she asked softly, looking at the child with both awe and tenderness.