Kystan's POV

Her head whips towards me so fast. I continue talking as though I do not notice her surprise. "Before she died, she had been working here all day, and had to make me cookies which I had been whining about." I look across the parking lot at the waves crashing onto the pier.

She looks wary, "You don't have to tell me."

I turn to look at her, "I want to tell you." I say resolutely but also softly. She nods.

"That day my dad woke up feeling under the weather and he had to stay home all day. Me and Rehan, we help my mom out at the bakery. So we came with her, waited tables and manned the register until I felt a craving for a chocolate chip and peanut butter cookie which she had especially created for me." I smile at the memory. "When I look back, I really understand that she was as busy as she told me because all tables had been occupied that day, but I insistently pressured her. She made it for me though, because I was seriously relentless."

I pause, and look to see if she is still listening; she is all ears.

"After happily eating the cookie, mom let us go to play on the pier since we were disturbing her anyway more than we were helping. So me and Rehan went out, ate ice cream and had a jolly time before going back home, where later that night, the police came to find us with the news that our parents had drowned." Tears swim in her eyes.

A trek of tears goes down her face, I lift my hand to her cheek and wipe them away. "Don't cry." I say. I hate seeing her cry.

"No, I am okay." She wipes the rest of her tears away. "I am so sorry you had to go through all that." She says earnestly.

"It's okay." I unbuckle my seat belt and get out of the car and signal her to come with me. She follows my lead and I pull a set of keys from my pocket and unlock the door.

I can see the wonder in her eyes. The inside is so different from the battered outside. "I hire someone to clean every month." I clarify and she nods in understanding.

"It looks nice inside." She says while turning around absorbing everything in. I gingerly touch the counter while she looks around. "Is it still in business?" She asks as she looks at the menu board hanging behind the counter.

"The other branches are open but I couldn't let anyone take over this one." I go behind the counter and get an apron. I get up and tie it around my waist as she looks on with confusion. Liza looks so cute when she is confused.

"This way." I say, motioning to the door to the kitchen. Thanks to Aunt Margo, it is clean in here, with pristine white countertops, spotless white cabinetry and many stainless steel appliances. "I am going to make you the chocolate chip and peanut butter cookie." I say with a child-like excitement.

She pulls a stool over and watches as I do the magic. One hour later, I pull a whole batch of cookies out of the very enormous oven. To be honest, I am not the best cook out there, but I hope she appreciates it still.

We let them rest and she comes to help me clean up the workplace. "Let me warn you though, those cookies may not do justice to my mom's." I say with a sheepish smile.

My face scrunches up when the cookie makes contact with my tongue, I spit it out immediately. it is a clash between salty and chocolaty; my mom would have given me a good talking to for making such a horrible replica of her recipe.

"How are you still eating this?" I ask with wonder when I notice Liza is still munching on hers.

"I've eaten worse." She answers and takes another bite, "But you are not cut out for this."

I nod, "Explains why I took finance and investment rather than culinary arts."

"For sure."

"I'd considered it though." I add as an afterthought.

"That would have been horrific for your teachers. No offense." She counters.

I roll my eyes at that. "I would have managed."

"I don't think so." She says and pinches my cheek. I swat her hand away but still grin. I am so lucky to have her as my girlfriend.

I cross my arms on the table and lay my head on them. It's amazing how she is still eating these cookies when they taste so bad.

"What happened to you after your parents died?" She asks gingerly after a few moments of silence.

I sit up unsure where to begin. "Well, the following days we slept at a neighbour's house, we had a funeral five days later and then Frank, my father's close friend, took us in." What transpired afterwards is hard for me to talk about, it feels like peeling the deepest, darkest parts of me and handing them to someone not knowing if they will throw them down and stomp on them.

"Those might have been the worst days of my life. Besides the loss, our lives changed dramatically. It took a lot of effort to get used to it, and the looks of pity, at home, at school, everywhere, were the worst. I was going into year thirteen and it really messed up with my studies; I started sneaking out of home, went to bars and was involved in fights more often than not. It angered Frank so much, but he still couldn't throw me out and I kept it going until I got in a pickle with a bar owner and the police got involved. I got off with community work but I didn't stop. I kept drinking and having 'fun'." Liza looks incredulous the more I say. "Until Frank sat me down and made me realiZe what a shitty example I was being to Rehan and how much I was wasting my life on trivial pastimes."

I can see the disbelief on her face. If it was me, I wouldn't believe me either. This is one of the reasons I respect and love Frank almost like my own father, because I know that if my father had been alive, he would have told me the same things.

"It's like a light switched on in my brain, I really felt ashamed of how immature and irresponsible I was acting. My parents wouldn't have been proud of who I had become. Eventually I graduated and asked for custody of Rehan but because of my record with the police, it was denied." It is bashful to talk about this. Even now, I wonder, what was I thinking?

"Wow. That's a lot to take in." She replies with amazement. "I can't picture you being the bad boy who drinks and fights all the time." Her effort to lighten the mood works, I find myself smiling.

"Yeah, I've changed a lot during these years." I feel that sense of relief that comes from getting something off your chest. I keep my eyes on her as she processes everything I have told her.

"Rehan should be the luckiest boy, he has the best brother ever." It warms my heart when she says that, and I can tell she means it. Her hand reaches for mine, I hold onto her.

A wall clock in the room chimes three o'clock. "We should get back to the city." I say after a while, as I get up and untie the apron which I still had on. A thought comes to my mind "Weren't you supposed to be at work actually?"

"I was." She says and gets up too. "But it will all have to hold."

"How? Did you ask for a day off?"

"No. I left my phone at home." She says and smiles like a naughty kid.

I can't help but shake my head at her, "What will I do with you?" I mumble.

She hears me though, "Kiss me?" She proposes.

"Nah, I might catch some crazy." She swats me on the shoulder and pouts. I give her a peck on the lips just to appease her. She smiles instantly.

"Hey. Are you leaving the cookies?" She asks as I walk towards the counter to keep the apron.

"What else can I do with them?"

"Give me a bag. I can't waste anything with chocolate in it." I hand her a ziploc bag from the counter, "You made them for me, how can I let them go to waste?"

"Wow." I watch as she stuff the cookies in a bag amazed. I open the door for her and lock it behind us. I put my arm on her shoulder and walk towards her car.

"Since we are already here, shouldn't you take me on a tour of your hometown?" She asks trying to mask her excitement. It doesn't work.

"Only if you persuade me properly."

She gives me a stink eye for blowing her bubble. She gets on her tippy toes and plants a kiss on my lips. It lingers a while as our mouths meld and I pull her closer to me. Then she retreats.

"I'll have to think about it." I say pensively.

We get in the car and pull out of the parking lot. I give her a tour to all my favorite places, my former schools, the beach, my childhood home, but we don't enter because it was sold long ago. We get back to Mayfair late at night.

"Thanks for coming."

"No, thank you for trusting me." She says and holds my hand which had been on the gear shift.

"I won't be available this week. I'll be with my lawyer planning for the hearing on Monday."

She looks surprised, "Monday? That's soon."

"Yeah. But it's long overdue. You understand, right?".

"Yeah. Of course." She says.

"Great. I have to go." She removes the seat belt. I get out to see her off before I head home too.

When we are close enough, I whisper in her ear, "My jacket looks great on you." She smiles mischievously. I stand on the sidewalk and watch her go to her door. The way she sways her hips as she goes to the door, confirms her evil intentions. She flashes me a last smile at the door and disappears inside.

When I walk into the loft, I hear quick footsteps coming my way. Luca comes skipping merrily towards me waving a piece of paper in his hand. By the time he stops in front of me, I am wondering whether he is high or just stupid.

"We got in." He says happily.

"Got in what?"

"The program to Rwanda." He hugs me with happiness. I should be happy too, but I am not.

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