"Can I come in?" I asked, unsure if I wanted to wake up my son.
"Mom...? Sure, come in," my son said. His voice sounded like he had been sleeping.
It was a Saturday morning, which is what had me thinking about whether to disturb him. I came in quietly. He had apparently not expected me to wake him up this morning, and I wanted to be as quiet as possible, so as not to make him feel like he had to get up. I wanted to be there early, before the rest of the house woke up, to spend some time alone with my son. I wanted to be part of his life now, and not just someone who happened to live in the same house.
Over the last few days, we had gotten closer than ever, exchanging hugs and taking every chance to show each other affection--at least as long as no one else was around. When we were alone in the house, I had walked through the house in underwear, and I had caught him changing his clothes more often than normal.
Now I was standing in my son's room in my pajamas.
He was slowly waking up, and opened his eyes.
"Mom..." he said, seemingly surprised. "What time is it?"
"It's early, you don't have to get up" I said, and sat down on his bed, "Can I just talk to you for a few minutes?"
He seemed happy to have me there after all, and was smiling.
"Sure," he said and moved over. "Come in."
It was a bit strange being there with him, but he had a comfortable bed, and I could not turn down my dear son's heartwarming invitation. I told myself that this was like being in any other room in the house, although I did not completely believe myself.
"How was your night?" I asked as I laid down by his side. I could feel his eyes looking at my chest. I turned my body toward him, in practice giving him a front view of my upper body.
"Fine," he said, looking up at my face. "How was yours?"
"My night was okay," I said looking at him, with a sudden trembling sensation inside. "Your days must be going good though, considering how loving you have been lately." I was trying to make sure he understood how much I appreciated him. I had no idea what my son's days had been like. All I knew was he had changed. That our relationship had changed.
"They have been good," he said. "I have been going through some deep thoughts." he said and paused for a few seconds. "I think you have no idea of what I have been thinking."
I looked at him, and could sense that his thoughts were serious. His eyes had a stern expression, and he seemed to have a lot to say.
I was nervous, and a bit afraid of what his serious look may mean. I thought that he may be having some trouble at school, or maybe he had met a girlfriend. But it slowly dawned on me that he wanted to talk about me. I could not know where this was going to lead.
What if he wanted to stop our progress? Go back to how it was before? Or a more 'normal' mother-and-son relationship, where the only time you see each other is for a quick dinner, and the only possible bodily contact is the odd hand on the shoulder, or a hug after not seeing each other for a week?
I realized I had told myself that I had made my son happy with my recent openness. Had I pushed this too far? Had my need for intimacy with my son taken over my sense of respect for his privacy?
"Of course, honey," I began, "I cannot know what you think unless you tell me."
"Mom, can I be honest with you?" he asked, his eyes once again wandering over my breasts.
He looked up, and our eyes locked.
"You can always be honest with me," I assured him.
His eyes looked almost sad, with a small, subtle smile on his face. I could not make out his feelings.
He reached out and placed a hand on my waist.
"I don't want to lose you, mom," he said. "I'm having thoughts..." he paused for a few seconds. "That I don't want to lose you. I don't want to lose this close mother-son relationship we have." He seemed close to tears.
