Melvin cradled Jocelyn's face in his hands, their foreheads pressed together, their breaths intertwining in a dance of desire. His ragged breath was a clear testament to his excitement.

As Jocelyn's heartbeat began to settle, she whispered softly, "They're still out there, you know."

"Do I have any clothes here?" Melvin's hands rested on her waist, his longing palpable in his touch.

Jocelyn nodded slightly.

Melvin chuckled, "Why would my clothes be here?"

Jocelyn's cheeks, already flushed, deepened in color.

She couldn't very well admit that she missed him so much she had kept one of his shirts to sleep with at night.

It was embarrassing, to say the least.

Melvin didn't tease her further. He affectionately tapped her nose and looked into her eyes with a tender smile, "You're quite the visionary. Otherwise, I'd have nothing to change into after my shower." Knowing he was teasing her, Jocelyn rolled her eyes at him.

"Hand them over. I need a shower," said Melvin, his indulgent smile not fading as he released her.

Jocelyn, her face still warm, fetched a set of loungewear from the closet-baggy shirt and pants, perfect for relaxing at home.

Melvin took them but didn't move.

"What's up? Go." Jocelyn urged him, feeling more embarrassed the longer they stayed in the room.

Melvin glanced down at the clothes in his hand, "That's it?"

"What else do you need?" Jocelyn was puzzled.

"Um... Underwear?" Melvin asked bluntly.

Jocelyn's mouth fell open, having not anticipated this request.

Melvin frowned, "Don't you have any?"

Jocelyn's face scrunched up, "Why would I have that?"

Melvin shook the shirt and pants, "Going commando?"

Jocelyn was speechless. The thought of keeping his underwear had never crossed her mind.

Melvin sighed, "Never mind, the pants are loose enough. I'll go without."

Jocelyn's face burned once more.

With the clothes in hand, Melvin finally left the room. It seemed no one outside had noticed how long they had been inside.

After he went into the bathroom, Jocelyn came out of her bedroom, her cheeks still tinged with heat.

Everyone understood the situation. They were all adults here, and they all knew the longing that comes with a long-awaited reunion.

"Jocelyn has been amazing with Euston. I don't even know how long it'll take for him to get used to me as his mom," Hermia lamented, still unable to hold her child, her eyes rimmed red with unshed tears.

Jocelyn comforted her, "Kids are like that. But you're his biological mother. Nothing can break the bond between you two. No one can replace a mother's love."

Hermia looked at Euston with a bittersweet smile, "But he's never had my milk, and I've barely held him. In his memory, you're probably his only mother."

"That's not true. Kids don't retain many memories before the age of three. They usually can't recall anything from before then. Don't worry, Hermia, your bond with Euston can be mended."

Castiel also reassured Hermia, "We'll take Euston home today. Spend some time with him, and he'll warm up to you."

Hermia wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes, looking at the little one frolicking in Yasmine's arms. Aside from sadness, a new emotion was taking root in her heart.

Especially when Euston called Jocelyn "Mommy," Hermia felt a sharp pain as if a knife had sliced through her heart.

Her son was calling another woman mommy.

At that moment, Euston became a bit fussy. He kept reaching out for Jocelyn, calling out "Mommy."

Now, Jocelyn couldn't respond as she used to, with Hermia there.

"Sweetie, this is your mommy," Jocelyn said, taking the child and turning to Hermia, coaxing him, "Say mommy."

Euston clung to Jocelyn's neck, not even glancing at Hermia, his little mouth puckering up as if he was about to cry. "Is he hungry?" Yasmine suggested.

Jocelyn checked the time; it was indeed feeding time.

She was about to prepare a bottle when she saw Hermia's longing eyes. Handing the child over, she said, "You hold him."

Hermia stood eagerly to take her son. But the moment she did, Euston's cries filled the room, his body writhing to get back to Jocelyn. The crying broke Hermia's heart all over again.

Jocelyn quickly prepared a bottle, tested the temperature, and handed it to Hermia, "Why don't you feed him?"

Hermia sat down and tried to give Euston the bottle, but he refused to take it, crying and reaching out for Jocelyn instead.

The tension was palpable, weighing heavily on everyone present.

Hermia didn't want to let go. She pushed the bottle against Euston's mouth again, "Euston, drink your milk. Stop crying. Mommy's here. Come on." The more she insisted, the louder Euston cried.

Finally, Castiel couldn't stand it anymore and took the bottle away, "Give the child to Jocelyn."

"He's my son!" Hermia suddenly raised her voice at Castiel, "Why doesn't he recognize me? Why is he calling someone else mommy?"

Her shout changed the atmosphere in the room.

Yasmine frowned.

Jocelyn felt awkward.

"Hermia!" Castiel's voice rose, "If it weren't for Jocelyn, would Euston be thriving like this? I know you miss our son, but we have plenty of time, don't we? Can't you hear how miserable he is? How can you bea it?"

At that moment, Melvin, with his hair still damp from the shower, came out. He had heard Hermia's outburst and quickly dressed to come out.

His first concern was Jocelyn.

She stood there, somewhat lost, like a child caught in mischief.

Melvin tossed his dirty laundry onto a plastic stool and made his way over to Jocelyn, who was frowning in distress. He took her hand gently and turned a cold gaze towards Hermia. "So, now you remember you're his mother? When you abandoned him after birth, did you ever think about what that meant?"

The chill in Melvin's words seemed to lower the temperature in the room, and the pressure felt like it dropped a notch.

Calvin and Daisy, who had been bustling around in the kitchen, hadn't said much before. They both felt that Euston's biological mother, Hermia, didn't appreciate the years Jocelyn had taken care of Euston. Not only was she ungrateful, but her harsh words were completely out of line. They had been holding in their frustration.

Now, with Melvin stepping in to confront the situation, they felt a sense of relief wash over them.

"Don't say that," Jocelyn whispered, tracing the lines of Melvin's palm.

Regardless of everything, Hermia had her share of hardships.

Life wasn't easy for anyone.

Castiel, his face set in a grim expression, glanced at Hermia and then scooped up Euston who was crying. He handed him over to Jocelyn, murmuring, "I'm sorry; she's just really overwhelmed." As soon as Jocelyn cradled Euston, his crying softened, and he snuggled into her shoulder, the picture of misery.

Jocelyn shook her head, casting a sympathetic look towards Hermia, whose face was streaked with tears. "I understand," she said, her voice tinged with pity.

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