Under his father's passive yet probing stare, Eric tried to will away his lingering hangover headache with a tight squeeze of his eyes, and recall the last question he had been asked. To no avail, unfortunately.

"Sorry, Dad," Eric squeezed his eyes open and shut once more, "what did you say just now?"

Jono breathed a deep sigh that made his slender chest rise visibly under his crisp white shirt. A crease formed between his sparse silver brows.

"I asked if you were alright, Aubs."

"Oh, right. I'm uh, yeah, I'm fine. Are you?"

When the dry quiver of Eric's 'fine' gave him away, Jono sat back in his lounger with a pensive finger to his thin lips. Despite his son's attempt to mask all emotion, it was apparent that he had slowly but certainly begun a descent into sinking dread from the moment he heard the news.

'The news' in question had taken a twisty route to arrive. It had been told to Kitty by Evangeline (presumably in confidence), then to Jono by Kitty (under the condition that he wouldn't tell Eric), then to Eric by Jono, who saw no use in secrecy and was a frank man by nature.

When he relayed the conversation to his hungover son, he watched him slowly sober, and travel from bewilderment to plain rage to this less recognisable state, somewhere in between panic and perplexity.

In Eric's mind, nothing was much clearer. As outraged as he was by his mother's 'follow the line' drivel, the revelation that Evangeline wanted to study Music and Philosophy in Dublin stirred something much more important in him.

How could he have been so blind, letting the signs pass him by? When she listed only four schools she applied to instead of five; when she was 'just faffing about' on his piano, but managed to play the most charming melodies; when she spoke, dreamy-eyed and intelligent, about intangible notions of truth, conscience, knowledge - why didn't he see her untold desire? Why didn't she tell him about it?

That particular 'why' made bile rise in Eric's stomach. Consciously or not, he knew the answer. He could see it in Evie's adoring gaze, and hear it in her nonchalant proposal that she might not even go to university at all.

Love. Their love, in particular.

"I've gotta talk to her," he spoke suddenly, pulling his phone from his pocket, "I need to talk to her and tell her, tell her..." He stopped short, his frantic movements stilling.

Jono sat forward again, as careful with his movements as he intended to be with his words. "Tell her...?"

Eric huffed in irritation. It was obvious what he needed to say, wasn't it?

"I'll tell her she has to go to Dublin."

"Why?"

"Because it's what she wants."

"Did she tell you that herself?"

"Well, no, but-"

"And what if she says she won't?" Jono crossed his arms with an air of pompous wisdom.

"Aubs," he began, "if there's one thing I've learned in all my years with your mother, it's that you should never tell a woman what's best for her. Whether or not you're the reason, Evangeline's made the decision not to go to Dublin. Who are you to tell her she 'has to'?"

A tycoon before all else, Jono had accordingly given his son guidance that wore the slick, questionable charm of business advice. Sliding down into his chair, Eric considered his father's words.

If he was to stand back and let Evie's decision be entirely her own, he knew what she would do. She would stay in London, even for Thursdays alone, forsaking Dublin and all the what-ifs that went with it. Would he be to blame for that? For denying her her what-ifs?

'No' was the nice answer. With 'no' he could sell himself the flimsy truth that nothing was his fault, and the fact that he would get what he wanted was merely a convenient side effect. Whether it was the right answer, though - that was another question.

"Don't get yourself in a tizzy about it, Aubs. It'll work itself out," Jono said, folding his hands behind his head as he lay back in the lounger with a grunt. "For what it's worth, I quite like her. She's sweet."

"Ooh, are we talking about Auby's London tigress?"

Freddie's voice rang from behind Eric, along with the tinkling sounds of an icy margarita, as he took a seat beside him. Suppressing a groan, Eric glanced at the bumbling cousin who he'd had quite enough of this week.

"Freddie, if you're here to make your usual contribution of absolutely nothing, I'd really rather you didn't."

Sipping languidly, Freddie wagged his free hand. "Nonsense. I've been told I'm a very wise man."

"Doesn't count if they're inebriated or your mum, Fred."

"Alright, alright," he said, stirring his amber drink with its straw, "are you working on your playground insults or seeking counsel? Tell me what's going on."

Eric explained his predicament to Freddie without an expectation of anything useful in reply (he knew better than to rely on Freddie for that), but in hopes of some clarity for himself. Yet hearing it all aloud and from his own mouth only unsettled him further, and confirmed, if he had for a moment doubted, that he had a crucial choice to make.

Following Eric's explanation, Freddie nodded slowly, a reflective look in his furrowed brows. For once, he appeared to be thinking before he opened his mouth to speak. Appeared to be.

"You ever seen that movie 'From the Heart'?"

"Oh, Jesus, Freddie."

"No, no, Aubs, hear me out!"

Jono heaved the heavy sigh that spoke for both himself and his son. "Fred, is this going somewhere?"

"Absolutely, Unc," Freddie insisted, near bouncing with excitement to share his theory, absolutely. "Right, so, I'm assuming from the outburst you haven't seen this film - fine. Basically, there's this lonely bloke - no mates, no romance - totally passionless life."

Recounting the story as though he had watched it live, Freddie spilled droplets of his margarita left and right as he went on.

"Then, he gets this computer software - Layla. Wait no, Lola. Actually-"

"Freddie, is this entirely relevant?"

"Sorry, Unc, sorry, back on track. So, he downloads this software - we'll call her Lola - and she's sort of like Siri, but she's full on human-like. Talks, laughs at his jokes, has deep conversations with him and everything. Then, he starts to fall in love with her."

Freddie's wide eyes twitched to alert his listeners that this, supposedly, was the most exciting part.

"And she's falling in love with him too! They start talking like a real couple and everything, and one day, she comes out says she loves him. I know." He enthused to his expressionless audience. Freddie was nothing if not persistent.

"When you think about it, it's a bit of head-fuck, isn't it? Falling in love without seeing a face? Then again, I think it's Phoebe Tonkin playing the computer and, Christ, who wouldn't fall in love with that voice?"

"Fred." Eric exhaled, his temple in his hands as he kneaded his forehead. "What's your point?"

"Okay, okay, listen- when the computer said that it, or she, or whatever, loved him, at first he was over the bloody moon obviously. But after a bit, he couldn't trust it. Because the thing is, she's never even had the chance to love anyone else, or do anything but love him - you know, see the outside world and shit. So how could he know that his love was what she actually wanted?"

Before discarding Freddie's rant to the place where he chucked all his other useless information, Eric stilled with quiet contemplation. He thought about Evie. The flashing images of her that painted themselves in mind like murals were of her flushed rose-red apple cheeks when she smiled, and her glorious, golden mind.

He loved her, that was certain. 'Perhaps', a naive voice said, 'she didn't mention Dublin out of coincidence, or for fear she wouldn't get into the school at all'. But if the terrible truth turned out to be that Evie was denying part of herself, part of her passions and dreams, to stay with him in London, Eric's hatred for himself would far outweigh any other sentiment.

He thought to ask Freddie what exactly he was getting at, but decided against it when he looked over at the man-child trying to manoeuvre his straw into his mouth using gusts of his breath.

"Right," Eric breathed, standing to his feet, "thanks."

Freddie bobbed his head with a proud grin. "Anytime, Aubs. Anytime."

He turned to leave, his migraine more acute than when he had first sat down. Somehow he knew the glass of water he intended to fetch would be of little use.

"Auby."

Between him and his useless glass of water stood his mother, leaning against the balcony doorway. She had been listening, and although Eric wasn't looking forward to it, her clasped hands and uncharacteristic silence made it clear that she had something to say.

He turned around, plopping petulantly back into his chair. "Sorry Mum, but I'm in absolutely no mood to talk to you."

"Aubs, I'm sorry, alright? I'm sorry if you feel I overstepped or if-"

Jono tilted his head, prompting another answer. His wife sighed, in a rare moment of accountability.

"I did overstep - and I'm sorry. But, Auby, can you blame me?" Stepping into Eric's peripheral view, Kitty stopped by the right hand of his lounger, gazing with desperate eyes as she spoke. Feeling her desperation bleed into the air between them, Eric dropped his moody shoulders and looked to her, hopeful.

"The girl's confused."

"Oh, as if you care how she feels, Mum!" Eric exploded. He knew the whole matter had stirred a childish rage in him, but he wouldn't tolerate his mother's false pandering.

"No, listen to me! Listen! She's confused, Aubs. I can see it." Kitty's voice descended into a trembling whisper.

"She's torn. Between her dreams and you. Auby, she's planning to abandon what's in her heart because of how much she loves you. I know you can't think that's right."

Feeling her expectant stare, Eric exhaled shakily and focused on pebble patterns beneath his feet. "It's her decision to make, Mum - not mine."

"Auby." She gasped quietly, manicured hands snapping to her chest. "As long as that girl is in love with you, it'll never be her decision! If you can look me in my eyes, right now, and tell me that you think that it's really her choice - to throw away what's in her heart - then I don't know the son I raised."

The words, murmured and appalled, rose like pungent ash. When Eric turned to face his mother, he saw in her glossy eyes a woman he hadn't met before. Someone human, fragile and filled with regret. In that instant he saw that his mother's appeal didn't come from any underhanded intention to have him marry within his class. In Evangeline, Kitty saw a version of herself that she had long forgotten.

In the face of such sincerity, Eric couldn't stay angry. The matter now at hand was his Evie's happiness. Even if it indeed turned out to be a ploy to break them up, Eric didn't care. The mere chance she was right was enough to muzzle him.

Apart from Kitty's retreating click clack up the stairs, a silence fell in the men's circle. Yet no silence could provide enough quiet for Eric to make a decision. He knew what he wanted for himself. He knew what he wanted for Evangeline. Did she? Had he even given her enough space to truly know?

Love being the constant, one question remained, scribbled across the others like vivid graffiti.

To love her and let her go, or to love her and hold her close?

Pip's laughter tumbled through the space in the patio door. Eric turned, watching Evangeline walk in, then watching her face light up with the smile he wanted to see every day for the rest of his life. He returned a smile, but turned to hide his eyes.

He had made his choice. Or rather, it had been made for him. If he loved her as deeply, as entirely, as he believed he did, there was only one real choice. He could only hope it was the right one.

—

Today's chapter media is the Macklin family! Since this their last [major] chapter, I thought I'd share how I picture them!

Hope you enjoyed this chapter - I really enjoyed writing what I feel is a pretty pivotal scene :) I was so excited to post this that I've been writing on the road; sorry for any major grammar errors!