e demanded respect and affection, Michael Drake felt himself especially free in an ocean of emotions he had since a long time ago. His whole surroundings faded into ins

for an eternity. Then the young lad Elizabeth was with spoke up, his voice ringing with the guileless innocence of boyhood, with a suddenness that suggested the stress of the situation. "Mom, which man is this?" Elizabeth shuddered audibly, as if awakened from a trance, her eyes strayed to her son with a love that seemed to soften the rough edges of her attitude. She started, her voice a little shaky as she tried to find the right words to fairly capture the intricacy of their circumstances. Drawn by something more strong than reason or logic, Michael, however, moved forward before she could continue. "Hey, young fellow," he murmured, his voice deep and full as he bent down to match the child's attentive gaze. "I call myself Michael Drake." The lad fixed him with wide, naive eyes and a mesmerizing mix of amazement and dread on his face. Could one say that you are my dad? He asked, his words blasting over the uncomfortable silence that followed. Michael felt the universe slant on its hub, the ground seeming to tremble under his feet as the weight of that fundamental query rang through every thread of his life. He glanced to Elizabeth, his expression searching for a response to the inquiry kept latent for a very long time. Her voice was a complicated tapestry of emotions, grief, anger, and a hint of something deeper, something that suggested the embers of a love once blazingly strong. Elizabeth fixed his stare exactly. She whispered, hardly audible, "Yes," but with the weight of a reality that could not be refuted anymore. "His dad is yours." At that point, Michael saw the underpinnings of his reality shatter, the painstakingly created structure of his life decreased to rubble directly following this seismic reveal. He had always taken great delight in being in charge, master of his own destiny, and molding his empire with the same merciless precision he had employed in the boardroom. He found himself, however, adrift, unmoored, and unsure of how to navigate the unfamiliar waters that lay before him when presented with the incontrovertible truth of his own flesh and blood. Michael felt a wave of emotions that were so powerful and intense that they threatened to overtake him as he watched the youngster, his child. Lament, yearning, and a frenzied longing to produce an association that had been denied to him for a really long period. He recognized in that instant, with clarity that was both thrilling and scary, that the presence of this unique, unforeseen power had irrevocably transformed and reshaped his life. Ever discriminating, Elizabeth seemed to sense the frenzy raging inside him and her attitude softened as she respected him with a newly acquired tenderness. She said, her voice tinged with a depth of feeling that seemed poised to undo him, "His name is Jeremy." "Your child." Michael realized he would have to bear that load for the rest of his life since those statements seemed to h