Flash Fiction: The speech I wish I could give at my son’s Christening.
Nobody will ever know you aren’t my son. It’s nobody else’s business.
I want you to have the love and happiness I can’t. So I will make sure her death doesn’t leave you alone.
You were born of the woman I loved and that is as close to blood as we will ever be. But nobody will ever know. Not even you.
They even say you have my eyes. I know they’re his. But it doesn’t matter now.
You are not my son. But I will be your father.
(Written with the challenge of the format of a speech and the location of a church)