Tressi could feel her heart thud against her ribs as her eyes took in her once best friend.

In the six years since she'd last seen him, he'd changed. His dark hair was swept upwards: not the spiky gel coated 'do that'd made her visibly cringe when they'd been teens. She'd teased him endlessly but he'd been thoroughly convinced that it looked hot. The boyish roundness of his face had been replaced by a man's jaw that was now covered with stubble. The deep set dark eyes were the same, but the innocence and laughter they held were long gone. In its place—awareness and knowledge.

"Tressi?" he gasped.

"Dax? You're here?" She couldn't believe her eyes.

"I should be the one asking that, don't you think? What're you doing here?"

"Well..." She looked to Des, just as Dax seemed to realise Tressi wasn't alone.

"Hey, I'm Daxton Lepoci," he said, extending his hand.

Tressi flushed. "I'm sorry. Where are my manners. Des, this is Daxton. Dax, this is my husband, Des Gemira."

"I've heard so much. It's great to finally meet you," Des said, shaking Daxton's extended arm.

"Please, come on in." Daxton stepped aside to let them pass through the door, and Tressi fell into step with the two men who knew her best.

"Tressi! Sweetheart! You're here. Why didn't you call?" Mrs. Lepoci asked, wiping her hands on a kitchen towel.

"It was sudden, Mrs. Lepoci. I didn't really plan this," she said, as Mrs. Lepoci pulled her into a hug.

"This must be... Des?" the old woman asked smiling, when they broke apart.

"Yes, I'm so glad to finally meet you, Mrs. Lepoci. Tressi talks a lot about your family, and I have to say, this is quite a lovely home. Makes me forget that this is Lapec," Des complimented, casting his eyes around the room.

"That is so kind of you. I told Andrew when we got married that there was no way I was living in this godforsaken town, if he didn't let me have my way with the house. But after all these years, it's grown on me. Do not mistake me, I do like the sun, but there is a... charm here. The atmosphere. I don't know if you would be able to relate, coming from a huge city. But if you have lived in small towns throughout your life, like I have, then you grow quite attached to them after a point."

"No, no. I completely understand. I get Lapec's charm." Des spoke with deliberation—as if he really meant it—that Tressi turned to him in surprise. 'Charm' and 'Lapec' were not the words that she'd use in the same sentence.

The visit ended up being much longer than what Tressi had planned. Mrs. Lepoci had insisted that they stay for dinner, not taking no for an answer. They didn't really need much persuasion; Tressi was in love with Mrs. Lepoci's cooking.

Throughout dinner, Tressi couldn't help but steal glances at her former best friend. Her childhood had been about him. She'd never seen a time where Dax wouldn't be in her life, where they wouldn't know each other.

He'd changed. A lot. His appearance wasn't the only thing that was different. He didn't fill silences with words. He was quiet, but observant. He didn't seem to have the need to be the centre of attention anymore. Attention was never in short supply when they'd been kids. Being the only child of Mr. and Mrs. Lepoci meant that their lives revolved around him. Adding to that was his naturally sunny disposition and a cheery personality. The resulting confidence made attention inevitable. Worlds apart from how Tressi had been as a kid.

But she couldn't recognise her friend now. He was a stranger. Knowing that was hard. How was she supposed to accept that they were nothing to each other now. This polite and friendly tone they maintained—as if they were mere acquaintances—made it difficult to breathe. As soon as she was done eating, she excused herself to the bathroom. It was stupid to get so emotional. Six years was a long time. They'd both grown up so much. Besides, it'd been her decision to cut herself off from everything that was remotely Lapec.

How had Dax taken her disappearance? She wondered. She hadn't said goodbye before leaving. Had he been hurt? That she'd just up and leave without saying anything. As she thought about the days that led up to her running away, her eyes stung and she furiously blinked the tears away.

This is stupid. Get a grip.

She opened the tap to let the stream flow over her skin. She splashed a little on her face and straightened her skirt. Running her hands through her hair to smooth it out, she looked at her reflection. She carefully fixed a smile on her face, and when the smile seemed believable, she left the bathroom to rejoin her husband.

*

"They seem nice," Des commented, as they walked back to the Sakit residence. The rain had stopped and the only sounds were the intermittent plop plop of the drops falling down from the roofs that had been drenched.

"Yeah, they are," Tressi muttered.

She didn't seem inclined to say more, causing Des to look at her curiously. He had expected her to gush over them.

"Penny for your thoughts?" he asked, stopping mid stride.

I never thought seeing Daxton would do this to me. I never realised how much I missed him. I never fathomed that him turning into a stranger would affect me this way.

Tressi looked up at his dark, deep set eyes glinting through his glasses that could easily mask his emotions, leaving her clueless to his thoughts. So she simply said, "Just nervous about spending the night here."

"Ah. I'm gonna be right here, Tress." He took her hand in his and squeezed tightly. Des would be there, but that didn't make the prospect any less daunting.

She looked up at her childhood home—bathed in the moonlit glow—wondering what lay in store for her tonight.