One Day [PRN]

Three

Prince took a deep breath, the silence stretching between us, his gaze distant as he seemed to weigh his words carefully. After a moment, he spoke, his voice carrying a weight of something profound, something deeply personal.

"I need to tell you something," he began, his eyes meeting mine with a look of quiet resolve. "Something you should know."

I nodded, my heart still pounding from the earlier revelation, trying to brace myself for whatever he was about to share.

"When I was younger," he started, his voice softening with a kind of reverence, "I had a son with my first wife. His name was Amiir. He was born in 1996."

I blinked, the year striking me like a jolt. "I didn't know you had a son," I said quietly, feeling a pang of surprise mixed with a deepening curiosity.

Prince nodded, his expression solemn. "He was very young when he passed away. Just a week old."

My breath caught in my throat, the gravity of his words hitting me hard. I could see the sadness in his eyes, the pain that lingered even now, years later. "I'm so sorry," I said softly, feeling a wave of empathy wash over me.

He gave a small, almost wistful smile. "Thank you. It was a long time ago, but it's something that stays with you. After that, I never had any more children. Not to term. It wasn't that I didn't want to, but..."

His voice trailed off, the unspoken sorrow hanging in the air. I could see the depth of his loss, the way it had shaped him, the way it had impacted his life.

"It's not that I'm against the idea of children," he continued, his gaze steady. "But after what happened, it's something I haven't pursued. It's always been something... delicate."

He took another breath, his eyes searching mine. "I want you to know that I understand how big this is for you. I wouldn't want to pressure you into anything. Whatever choice you make, I won't be upset. I want you to do what's best for you. What feels right."

I listened to him, feeling a complex mix of emotions—sorrow, understanding, gratitude. His willingness to share something so personal, something so painful, was a testament to his trust and respect for me. It was a gift, even amidst the chaos of our situation.

"Thank you," I said, my voice trembling slightly. "That means a lot."

He nodded, a look of relief washing over him. "I'm here for you. Whatever you decide, we'll figure it out together."

I nodded, feeling a sense of calm settle over me, despite the storm of emotions still swirling inside. It was a strange comfort, knowing that despite everything, there was support, understanding, and a willingness to navigate this uncharted territory together.

We sat in silence for a few moments, the weight of his story and my situation mingling in the quiet.

The morning light continued to filter through the window, casting a soft glow over the room. I found myself lost in thought, trying to piece together what all of this meant for me, for him, for us. The knowledge of his past, the pain he had carried with him, added layers of complexity to our situation. It wasn't just about what was happening now—it was about how we moved forward, how we faced this together.

Prince eventually stood up, his movement graceful, almost hesitant. He walked over to the window and looked out at the sprawling grounds of Paisley Park, the early morning light casting long shadows over the landscape.

"I know this is a lot to take in," he said, still gazing out. "But whatever happens, I want you to know that you're not alone in this."

I took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his words settle in my chest. "I appreciate that," I said, standing up and joining him by the window. "I really do."