She looked down at him with her same sad searching eyes. She didn't give any ground, held her gaze, gripping his hand even tighter, until he looked away.
As we walked along the concrete road i couldn't help but notice water tickling down her eyes..

He shoved away her hand and ran after his ball. She continued to stare. Her eyes never left him.
She ran after him, catching up almost easily yet breathless. She was aging, maybe 38? 39?
It worried me. I could have tried to stop her but i knew it would be useless.
She wanted to spend every minute with him, after all the weekends were not enough to last the whole week.
She missed him. She missed us too. But it was different for him because she felt that he needed her more than we did. Because he was just six. I was eighteen. Shanzay was fifteen.
But we needed her just as much. We were just considered too old to protest.

I watched as she walked ahead beside him, flashing that smile that i hardly ever got to see.
I looked at Shanzay and through our tears we smiled too.