Heart pounding, he watched as Locke broke into a frantic sprint, tears streaking down his cheeks.

“Mommy! Mommy! Please don’t go! Don’t leave me!”

Elissa froze mid-step. No mother could remain unmoved by such raw desperation.

Without thinking, she turned and ran toward him. “Locke!”

“Mommy!”

Elissa dropped to her knees just in time to catch Locke as he stumbled into her arms, weeping uncontrollably.

They clung to each other like lifelines, their sobs mingling in the air.

“Locke,” Elissa’s voice trembled as she cradled his cast gently. “Why would you run like that? Did you hurt your arm?”

“It hurts! It hurts a lot!” he cried, lifting his casted arm with exaggerated pain—already showing his little expertise in acting pitiful.

“Sweetheart, you can’t move like that,” Elissa scolded softly, her voice thick with guilt and sorrow.

“Mommy,” Locke whimpered, his lips trembling, “Daddy made you mad, didn’t he? That’s why you don’t want him anymore?”

Elissa faltered, unable to respond. How could she explain adult heartbreak to a child? Even if she tried, he wouldn’t understand.

“Then let’s just leave Daddy,” Locke offered with childlike sincerity, desperate for the simplest fix.

He just couldn’t bear to lose his mother.

“But what about me?” His voice cracked again. “If you don’t want Daddy… do you not want me either?”

Elissa opened her mouth, but no words came. Her heart ached as though it had been torn in two.

“Mommy!” Locke wailed, flinging his arms around her neck. “I’ll be good! I’ll be your good boy! Please, don’t go! Please!”

Find more at g lno ve ls.o

His desperate cries melted every defense Elissa had left.

She looked up at Savannah, her face filled with helplessness. “Mom…”

Savannah let out a deep sigh, her own eyes glistening with emotion.

Locke noticed Elissa’s gaze and followed it, turning to look at Savannah.

In a heartbeat, he understood—Elissa listened to this woman.

“Ma’am,” he called, staring up at Savannah with tear-streaked cheeks, “can’t I stay with her? She’s my mommy!”

“Locke,” Ernest stepped in, trying to clarify, “this lady is Mommy’s mommy. You should call her Grandma.”

Locke nodded solemnly, quickly correcting himself. “Grandma!”

“Good boy,” Savannah murmured, her voice hoarse.

“Grandma,” Locke said again, running to grasp her hand. “Please don’t take Mommy away from me! I can’t live without her!”

.

.

.