"Papa's going home, alright," he said goodbye to Emil last night.
The boy nodded. Thank God, there was no crying scene like I feared. If he cried, I was afraid my defenses would crumble.
Harry pulled Emil into his arms and showered him with kisses.
"Be good at home, alright? Don't be naughty. Be a smart, good boy. Take care of Mama," he said. His voice was hoarse at the end.
I looked away, unable to bear witnessing such a scene.
"Yes, Papa. You'll come again tomorrow, won't you?" the boy asked innocently in his characteristic childlike way.
I didn't hear an answer from Harry, which made me curious, so I turned back to see what he was doing in response to Emil's question.
The man forced a smile, staying silent as his finger gently traced Emil's face.
"Papa, why can't Emil sleep with
