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Lauren Williams sobbed, tightly hugging the little boy as she sat in her car, near a bar. She held her son in her arms, unable to believe that she was about to do this.
The two year old was unaware of his mother's actions, soundly sleeping. All he'd known was Daddy wasn't coming home. Lauren refused to tell him the whole truth.
That his father was heavily involved in the streets and was killed from a transaction going wrong. Since that day, she couldn't bring herself to look at their son. He was a splitting image of the love of her life, who was now dead.
"I love you, but.. I don't think I can do it. I know you'll grow up to hate me.. and resent me. This is, just, what's best for you. I really hope you have a good life."
She kissed the top of his head, getting out of the car. She grabbed his bag, quickly carrying him to the door. Guilt filled Lauren's body as she sat the sleeping boy against the wall with his bag.
She rushed back to her car, driving off. At the first street, she turned off, wiping the tears sliding down her cheek.
The bar door burst open as a couple of guys came out, laughing. One stopped, noticing the sleeping boy. He slowly approached him, looking around the area.
"Call the cops."
He examined the bag then opened it. There were some clothes and snacks inside. He grabbed the card at the bottom, pulling it out.
"What does it say?" His friend asked, dialing 911.
He looked at the name tag.
"Tyrone."
In the dimly lit restaurant, Roman Murphy sat, frowning as his finger circled the top of his cup. He sighed, flipping his phone over upon seeing his wife's name, again.
They'd been trying for a baby for a year but was unsuccessful. The sad words leaving the doctor's lips earlier that day had been enough to drive a wedge between the two.
He sat up, focusing his attention across the room at the beautiful woman. Lauren sat in the corner, sadly sipping her bourbon.
The image from her side mirror of her baby boy sitting alone, replayed in her head. She stared out the window, sipping the hot tea.
The sound of a throat clearing, alerted her. She wiped her face, turning to see Roman. He held a smile, gesturing to the other seat across the table.
