Love Father, Like Son
I rode the bus home with Milo, and watched him play in the living room, until my man got home from work. I don’t call him “Daddy,” because he’s not my father, but I can’t really call him my boyfriend either. He’s a man, and he’s mine, but it sucks not being able to tell anyone at school. As much as I want to take him out, and show him off, I’m only 10. He’s a widower, and I can’t really tell you how he lost his wife, but she was young. Not as young as me, but still too young to have a baby without complications. So, she didn’t die in childbirth, but her C-section got infected before it could heal, and it really broke his heart. So, he focused on being a single …