The Book of Dreams

The cookies were almost done. Nanon checked the oven for the umpteenth time, wiping his slightly flour-dusted hands on his apron. He didn’t mind the mess; baking had become his therapy, his way of silencing the echo of memories that crept in during the quiet hours. He glanced toward the living room, where his son was sleeping on the couch, his small frame curled up under a blanket.

Nanon smiled softly. His son’s soft, even breathing filled the room, and his delicate features, those big eyes, now closed in slumber,  The boy had that familiar nose, but his smile,  that belonged to someone else entirely.

As he leaned against the counter, letting the quiet hum of the oven lull his thoughts, a knock at the front door broke the silence. Frowning, he wiped his hands on a kitchen towel and headed to the door. It wasn’t often he had visitors.

When he opened the door, he blinked in surprise. Standing there was a familiar young lady. She was dressed in a long, cream-colored coat, her dark hair tucked behind her ears. There was something about her eyes, kind yet searching, dark and expressive that mirrored the similar eyes he loves the most.

"Love" he said, surprised but warm. "What a pleasant surprise. Come in."

"Hi, Nanon," she said softly. "I was in the neighborhood. Thought I’d stop by."

"Of course. Come in."

She stepped inside, glancing around the house. Her gaze fell almost instantly on the couch, where the boy lay.

"Is that him?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Nanon nodded. "Yeah. He’s napping."

Love walked over to the couch and knelt beside the boy. Her fingers brushed his cheek lightly, a tenderness in her touch that made Nanon’s chest tighten.

"He’s beautiful"  she said. "Looks so much like…"  She stopped herself, but the words hung unspoken between them.

Nanon nodded again, swallowing the lump in his throat. "He does" he managed.

"Should I wake him" Nanon asked, his eyes soft with concern.

"Don't," Love said quickly, his voice thick.  "He won't let me go. I need to go quickly"

Nanon nodded.

Love straightened and followed Nanon into the kitchen, where the cookies sat cooling on the counter. He offered her a chair and poured her a cup of tea.

"You’re still baking," she said with a small smile. "He used to say no one made cookies like you did."

Nanon chuckled faintly. "He was just being nice. He would eat anything sweet."

Love laughed softly, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. "How’s it been, Nanon? Taking care of him, I mean."

Nanon hesitated, then shrugged. "It’s been… hard, sometimes. But he’s a good kid. He makes it easier."

Love’s expression softened. "He’s lucky to have you. Not everyone would’ve stepped up the way you did."

"I didn’t have a choice,"  Nanon said, his voice quieter now. "I couldn’t let him go to strangers. He’s… he’s all I have left of…" He trailed off, unable to say the name.

Love reached across the table and squeezed his hand. "You’re doing an amazing job, Nanon. Don’t doubt that."

They talked for a while longer—about mundane things, about Love’s work, her engagement and about the boy’s milestones. But the past, always lingering, felt closer today, like an old wound reopening.