Excerpt of He Belongs to Me by Theresa Rizzo

In a life riddled with painful endings and bright beginnings too few to count, Catherine sought refuge in routine and simplicity. Ordinarily she would have dreaded the choreographed chaos of a graduation ceremony, but this day she embraced it with a light heart. She should have been exhausted from long nights spent hunched over textbooks cramming for finals, but her racing mind made sleep impossible. This was it. The day she'd worked so hard for had finally arrived. Today she would graduate—with honors. Not only had she earned her degree, but more importantly, she'd earned her son.

She slipped into her soft cotton robe and crossed the hall. Paint fumes lingered from her last–minute application of the fluffy white clouds that drifted across the slate–blue walls and ceiling. F–14 Tomcats streaked around and through the puffs, trailing vapor wakes.

The spotless room with its airplane lamp and new furniture smell held an air of expectancy. Crossing to the bookshelf, she knocked over a few stuffed animals. She tossed a Berenstain Bear book onto the desk and another across the bed, pulled out the desk chair and, opening the closet door, tugged the two shirts and a worn jean jacket askew. The jacket slid from the hanger to the floor and she left it where it fell. That was better. Now it had a more comfortable, messy, lived–in look. A little–boy look.

A boy could fall in love with this room. Hopefully her son would.

Catherine allowed herself this rare, brief moment to wish that things were different. If only the past could be erased and she could look up into the stands and see Thomas by Drew's side, smiling proudly at her as she received her diploma. In her fantasy, both Thomas and her son were joining her in California, as excited as she was about their fresh start.

But fantasies, by definition, don't deal in reality. Long ago, Catherine learned to suppress such futile longings. Circumstances had extinguished many of her dreams—like those of a happily–ever–after with her husband and son—but some were well within her reach. Soft light filtered through the blinds as the sun crested the neighboring houses. Drew was probably in the air right now.

A slow smile spread across her face. After four long years she would at last be a real mom.