The chilled evening breeze hits Michael, causing the face-framing wisps of his hair to float on the air, and into his face. He tucks the loose curls behind his ears to save becoming irritated by them, but, truth be told, his mood is already rather low.

He can hear the sound of mixed laughter; that of his best friend, his son, and of Laurie. He can't help but question to himself why he isn't strong enough to join in with the festivities of the night — particularly when it's in the name of celebrating his new job. He made it through around ten minutes of socialising upon Laurie's arrival, but then the reality of his situation sunk in, and he could take no more. So here he is, sat by himself in Sean's garden, contemplating how he got to this stage in his life.

He glances up at the dark sky, adorned with tiny specks of bright light. To the right of his peripheral vision, the moon glows dully, almost as melancholy as the man observing it. He expels air from his nostrils as a sigh, letting the poetic side of his mind wander.

"Who knows? Maybe right now, Val, you're sitting in California watching the sunset, a few hours behind me, and you're feeling much freer than I'll ever feel again. Maybe you're listening to the music I introduced you to when we were just starting out, and you're thinking of me just like I'm thinking of you. Maybe you're with friends, or maybe you're with your family, and you're regretting what happened between us the way I'm regretting it. Maybe you've had time to reflect, and you realise what you left behind. Maybe I viewed you too highly, and I put you on a pedestal when you showed your true colours. Maybe I still believe that things could go back to the way they were. Maybe I'm naïve, and I still have hope that you'll become a better person for your son before it's too late. But maybe, just maybe, you don't have that level of empathy in you. Maybe, just maybe, you're too cold-hearted for that. And maybe, just maybe, Val, I should accept that and stop chasing a dream that will never manifest itself into reality. You made your choice, and maybe I should remind myself of that, rather than holding on to the person I thought you were."

His eyes cloud over slightly from emotion, so he lets the tears build up. Besides, nobody is around to see his moment of weakness; they're all too busy enjoying themselves inside the house. It's almost as though nobody can even tell he's missing — ironic, given the gathering is essentially in his honour. Individual little droplets fall over his dewy lashes, sliding down his chiselled cheeks before hitting the ground below him. He allows himself to feel all the grief he needs to feel for a love that died far too soon and without — in his eyes — any real cause. As much as he wishes for nothing more than to be done with being upset, he knows that this isn't viable given how fresh the separation still seems to him.

"I'm trying to have hope." He continues talking, to nobody in particular, barely louder than a whisper. "Hope that one day, I'll find some peace."

The sound of the back door opening triggers him to dry his tears with the sleeves of his shirt hurriedly. He isn't sure which of the three potential culprits has decided to pay him a visit, but regardless, he doesn't want to show too much negative emotion to them. For a brief moment, he half-expects it to be Casey, but the taller, longer-haired figure that casts a shadow over the grass soon indicates to Michael that it's Laurie.

"What're you doing out here by yourself when the celebration inside is for you, hey?" she asks him.

As she enters his peripheral vision, he glances in her direction as not to appear ignorant. "I just wanted some fresh air. You can go back inside, honestly. It's cold out."

"I have been inside, and I also wanted some fresh air." The mellow smirk on Laurie's face gives away to Michael that she's using his own logic playfully against him, but it doesn't deter her from continuing her story. "And I don't really fancy being inside, when a good friend is sat outside all depressed on his ones."

"You mean "on my own"?" Michael questions rhetorically. "Whatever it is you meant, you don't need to worry. I'm perfectly content."

"I think saying you're content is a very far stretch," Laurie answers. "Are you going to tell me what the matter is?"

"I'm just enjoying the cold night air." Michael slips a hair tie off of his wrist, deciding to secure his curls into a very loose ponytail to prevent the breeze from picking it up and sending it in all directions. "I'll come back inside soon."

"Alright." Laurie raises her arms in surrender, not wanting to start any potential confrontation. "I won't keep pushing you to tell me the truth. I just wanted you to know that I'm here to talk to if you needed it. Especially because we're going to be work colleagues very soon."

"And I look forward to it," Michael responds. Guilt creeps in at the notion of pushing a genuine person away when they're simply trying to help, so he elaborates on the conversation further. "Look, I'm sorry for dismissing you and your offer for help. I'm just trying to keep myself kinda ... closed off, I guess. I just got overwhelmed when you got here. Celebrating something like a new job in a new country wasn't exactly what I had in mind for the end of this decade. I should be in The States with my ex-wife — obviously not as an ex-wife — and we should have been growing our family and building our future together. The reality kinda just hit me that it's entirely different to how I pictured life to be."

Laurie takes a seat by his side, drawing her knees up to her chest and embracing them. "This divorce stuff is a really sensitive subject for you, isn't it?"

"It's only been two years since she left me," Michael explains, shifting his focus to the tiny flecks of light in the sky to avoid eye contact with her. "She left me a letter. I found it when I got back home one time after being gone several hours. Casey was three years old, and she'd just left him alone in the house. Anything could've happened to him. She didn't seem to care for his safety at all. The letter was simple ... just said that she couldn't do it anymore. She couldn't be a wife, or a mother. So on that day, she finally gave the roles up for good."

"Bloody hell." Laurie frowns, observing the young man's side profile as he talks; from the moonlight glistening in his eyes, to the way his bundled hair flutters along the nape of his neck in the cool night air. "Did you have to go to court for custody of him?"

"Yeah. It was part of the divorce proceedings," Michael answers. "But the judge saw how neglectful she was. Even if he hadn't seen it, Valerie made no effort to hide it. She didn't want nothin' to do with us. The judge ruled I had full custody of 'em, and she celebrated it."

"I can't imagine how difficult that must have been to witness."

"It was very difficult." Michael shrugs, as though the whole ordeal is merely a trivial matter. "In a way, it sorta didn't feel real until the divorce was finalised. I'll never forget that day: the both of us walkin' outta the court, all our possessions divided and all that funky stuff. I tried to say goodbye to her one last time, but she wouldn't even look in my direction. She just walked away. That was the last time I saw her."

"D'you think she'll ever regret the decisions she made?" Laurie asks.

"Honestly, I can't say for sure. I believed it was just a terrible decision on her part, right at the start of all this. But the longer the divorce and the custody situation went on for, the colder and more distant she became. I don't know if she'd ever change her mind and want our old life back."

"Well, then it's her loss." Laurie places a friendly hand upon Michael's shoulder, to ease him back into reality following his intense gazing at the stars. Their eyes capture one another's, halting their interaction momentarily. Laurie senses that he cannot muster another conversation starter, so she fills in the gaps for him. "You know, I may have to make sure Allie sets me up with you when you start at the cafe."

"Would she do that?" Michael questions. "Or would that cause too much distraction because we know each other?"

"She's cool," Laurie explains. "She won't complain if you're a little slow on day one. Besides, she only had favourable things to say about you once you'd left your interview."

"Really?" Michael's brows raise in curiosity. "What did she say about me?"

"She kept banging on about how nice it'll be to have a guy working on the team who doesn't immediately give everyone the heebie-jeebies. Oh, and how charming you are." Laurie scoffs, suppressing laughter. "Personally, I think she fancies you a bit."

"She likes me?" Michael reiterates. "She barely knows me."

"Have you become tone deaf since your divorce, or are you pretending you didn't notice the way she was looking at you during the interview you had?" Laurie jabs his arm, refusing to believe in her new friend's naïvety.

"Girl, she was old enough to be my mom or somethin'," Michael laughs. "Ain't no way she got the hots for me."

"It's plausible, whether she's old enough to be your mum or not," Laurie responds. "You're not ugly, and you're not a nasty piece of work like some blokes."

"I would like to agree on the second part ... but I wouldn't go as far as sayin' I'm not ugly." Once again, his gaze averts to the sky, for the subject of his physical appearance evokes an awkwardness within him that he cannot seem to shake.

"Do you always say untrue things to fish for compliments?" Laurie asks.

"No," Michael answers. "I don't say it if I don't mean it. There's been too many times in my life where people have said somethin' and meant the opposite. I've always vowed not to be one of those people. I'd never look for compliments, because I wouldn't believe them anyway. Not about my appearance."

Laurie nods, comprehending Michael's logic and reasoning enough to make her next statement. "You're an attractive guy, Michael."

"Stop." Michael chuckles, uncertain of how to react to her kind words. "Attractiveness is subjective, anyway."

"You saying I've got bad taste?" She elbows the side of his torso mockingly, one of her numerous attempts at bringing his mood up.

"O-Of course not," Michael stammers, fearful of causing any offence. "I just wouldn't give myself that much credit."

"Maybe you should learn to give yourself more credit," Laurie suggests. "You're a good guy from what I've seen. You're a good dad to Casey. You're a good friend to Sean. You'll be a great work colleague when you get going. And one day, when you meet Missus Right, you'll be a great partner to her."

"I don't feel like I'll ever find anybody else," Michael admits. "I know statistically I could, but ... I don't know. They'd never be her. You get what I'm saying?"

"I get you." She gives him a sympathetic smile, understanding all-too-well what he means. "I sort of feel similarly — almost as though there's nobody out there who's actually meant for me."

Michael snickers softly as he brings up his next point. "Sean mentioned that you had a brief thing goin' on with him."

"My god ... "brief" is definitely the correct word," Laurie responds. "Some folks are definitely better as friends. I'm glad it only took us a matter of hours to figure that one out. He's way too much like a brother to me, for him to be anything more than a friend. That ship sank before it even set sail."

"Well, I'm glad you guys could still be friends." Michael dares to risk a potentially sensitive topic of discussion next. "Have you had any other relationships?"

"I've had a handful of them, but that's a story for another day." In an attempt to distract from her shameless vetoing of the subject, she rises from her seated position, unintentionally prompting Michael to follow suit. "Anyway, do you feel any better now we've had a little talk?"

Michael sighs. "Actually, I do. Thank you for listening. Maybe I did just need to talk to somebody different."

"It's not a problem, mate." She gestures with her head towards the house. "You want to go back inside, now? I think we've both been out here long enough, freezing ourselves silly."

Michael smiles a mellow smile. "You might be right about that."

As Laurie makes her way over to the back door, she glances over her shoulder to make sure Michael is following behind her. As the door opens, a wave of warmth from inside the building hits their faces.

"Nice to have you back," Sean teases.

"Did we miss anything?" Michael asks.

"Not much," Sean answers. "Although little man here has just shown me his loose tooth."

"Oh, you got a loose tooth, Case?" Michael ventures closer to his son to inspect his mouth. "How exciting! The tooth fairy will love that when it finally does come out."

"Daddy, do you think that when my tooth comes out, the tooth fairy will give me a dollar?" Casey's soft doe eyes meet his father's.

"Well, in England we don't have dollars. We have pound sterling. It's like England's version of a dollar," Laurie explains.

"So, do you think that if I wrote a real nice letter to the tooth fairy, she would maybe not give me the England dollar and give me my mommy back instead?" A glint of hopefulness sparkles in the boy's dark irises.

Hearing the innocent question causes Michael's heart to sink. He is no stranger to these types of interrogations, but no amount of experience can prepare him for the sting of it each time the situation arises.

"Actually, sweetheart, the tooth fairy already spoke to Daddy about this a little while back." She bends to his level, ensuring she has his undivided attention. "Because it's your first ever wobbly tooth in England, she has to abide by the tooth fairy rules and regulations that state that the tooth fairy must give double the amount of money to a child in return for their tooth. So, because it's the first tooth you'll ever lose in England, that means instead of one pound, you'll get two instead. How cool does that sound, hey?"

Casey beams upon hearing this news. "I'll be super rich!"

"You will, buddy," Sean answers. "So you need to give your daddy a big hug and thank him for arranging that with the tooth fairy for you."

Casey rushes over to his father, wrapping his arms around his waist. "Thank you Daddy. You're the best."

Michael catches a glimpse of Laurie, followed by Sean, and gives them a knowing half-smile in appreciation of the story they've improvised to help him out. Laurie flashes a smile back, and Sean winks at him. Michael turns his attention back to his beloved son, savouring every moment of the precious hug he is being given.

"Anything for you, Case. Anything for you."

• • •

Chapter seven! Sorry it's been a while. Hope you're still enjoying the story regardless. xx