The first time he saw his parents kiss it was the first morning he stayed at their place.

It was still dark in the morning and he just woke up from an endless night during which he hardly slept. He didn't think anyone would be up yet and ventured downstairs for something to drink. He was a few meters away from the kitchen door when he saw them. It was nothing dramatic or out of the ordinary, just his dad holding his mom close, planting soft kisses on her forehead while she nestled close in his arms. Her face was half hidden in the auburn hair but her occasional shivers and the troubled look on his dad's face were more than enough to tell William she was crying.

He stood there, dumbstruck. He felt as if he just invaded something sacred, a trespasser on his parents' intimacy and raw emotions. An outsider, almost.

He rushed upstairs, confused and bewildered, his heart beating like a soldier's before a battle. He started to wonder where, and if ever, he would fit in their life, and how they would in his; questions he never asked himself before. They were drowned out by the longing, the excitement and the curiosity he felt about reuniting with his biological parents. Now that he had met them, what's next? They were leading their own life as he was living his. He felt certain that he was the reason his mom cried. The idea of bring on his mom's suffering made him sick to the stomach. What if seeing him again is causing them more pain than joy? What if his sudden re-appearance in their life has twisted them all in a knot from which none of them knows how to disentangle? What if he was not meant to see them again and all this suffering is a consequence of his defying fate? What if his coming here was a mistake? What if he, himself, was a mistake?

(to be continued)