A/N: third update in a week! Do you guys feel the love? Well...tbh it's this chika's 18th birthday so my gift to y'all is this update ;)

I can't wait to hear your thoughts on this chapter. This chapter marks the middle this novel. Are you ready for other half of the story? Because I ensure you, it's quite dramatic...

HAPPY READING!

The lone certainty that I was going to see my son today after going almost forty-eight hours without him was enough to make my emotions turn; make me giddy to get London.

All thoughts about not waking up next to Bruce disappeared when I entered the kitchen, showered and fresh with exhilaration.

"Someone looks ready for the day," Bruce commented, smilingly as he laid out our plates on the kitchen counter.

"I am! I can't wait to see my boy," I sang excitedly, jumping onto the stool and giving him a wide grin.

"It's only been a day," Bruce pointed out with a gentle smile, "Looks like Mama is possessive."

"It's been forty hours since I've seen him. That's more than a day. And I am not possessive! I just prefer my son next to me," I defended, my grin never faltering because for some reason I truly couldn't bring myself not to smile. "It's going to be a fantastic day! I was thinking of maybe stopping by at Regina's Care Centre in London to visit Elisabeth who is an old friend of mine. She's Riley's godmother, have I told you that? I try to see her at least once a month and at Christmas. She's an absolutely wonderful woman. The situation she's stuck in through is miserable and breaks my heart... Bruce, are you okay? Did I say something wrong?"

Bruce's smile had disappeared somewhere along my ramble and I couldn't pinpoint exactly where but it concerned me to see his caramel skin lighter, pale almost. He shook his head, a smile easily replacing the frown on his lips but the distraught expression was still evident on his face. "I'm fine. It's nothing," he said but the lack of sincerity behind his words convinced me otherwise.

But after the blow-up that happened yesterday morning I couldn't afford a repeat and so I decided not to push him for information in case I accidentally pushed on certain buttons I shouldn't have and opened vaults that would lead to arguments.

"Okay," I said softly, giving him a small smile in attempt to make him feel more relaxed. He was on the other side of the kitchen island but I could sense the tenseness from where I was sitting. "I was just concerned. You looked a bit ghastly—shocked even. But if you're sure that it's nothing..."

"It's nothing," he confirmed and the authority behind his voice this time would have convinced me to believe him had I not witnessed what happened five seconds earlier prior to now.

"All right," I smiled, not pushing it any further. "Do you want to come?"

"What?" My change of topic was obvious to him but the question threw him off nonetheless.

"Do you want to come to London with me?"

His brown eyes widened in surprise. "Oh, uh," he started, not sure what he should reply with. Turning around and taking the plates he adorned the kitchen counter by the stove with, he transferred them to the kitchen island that I sat by. He lay down the food in a few seconds, sat down and looked back at me, his expression a mixed one.

"You don't want to come?" I asked.

"It's not that," he said, shaking his head. He looked nervous. "You're going to see this Elisabeth that's an old friend of yours and I wouldn't want to intrude—"

"You wouldn't be intruding at all!" I insisted. "Plus, since we're going for the Christmas weekend too I thought I'd spend some time with her. Riley and I visit her annually every Christmas since that's the only time we're ever in London but I'm going to London today and..."

"No, that's all right," Bruce said, shaking his head. "You have fun."

"All right," I ended hesitantly. Something was off and if my tone didn't give that away then Bruce was oblivious to the fact that I knew something was out of place.

"So, what do want for lunch? I was thinking about...what's that funny expression on your face? You can't cancel on me!" Bruce said before giving me that almost irresistible expression, the one with a cute smile and the wide chocolate brown eyes. "You can't cancel on this face, can you?"

You mean like how you cancelled on me, yesterday? I was so glad that I sometimes thought of things before I actually said them and now was the time I was gracious for this rare capability of mine. I didn't know where that bitter thought popped out from and that made me guiltier about not telling him about lunch with Finn.

"I have to cancel," I said. "I have this assignment I didn't finish and I'm an idiot for thinking I finished it. I was thinking about diving right into my work, have lunch by myself—you would only distract me so don't even think about it," I added, holding up a finger to silence him when he opened his mouth. "After that, around three I'll go to pick up Riley and then we'll head to Regina's Care Centre before coming back home."

My heart was beating so fast I was afraid he would hear it. After last night—how Bruce got a little insecure about my relationship with Finn—and after feeling guilty only seconds ago, I couldn't bring myself to tell him that I wasn't going back to my house after having breakfast and hanging out for a while, that I was going to Finn's house to have lunch. I wasn't lying. I was only avoiding complications, possible fights and endless talks. White lies never hurt anyone, did they?

"Are you sure?" he asked and my heart skipped a beat when I thought he was referring to me having an undone assignment. I realised that he didn't call my bluff as he continued saying, "I could always buy lunch, drop by, eat with you. I can even help you!"

"That's great, Bruce. You're so bloody sweet but I can't. I really want do this assignment by myself and see how much I've progressed," I replied. It took so much energy to keep a convincing smile on my face. With years of practice of holding this smile to my parents' faces one would figure that I wouldn't be so jittery and nervous but this was the first time in a long time since I've had a serious relationship and I was starting it off with lie. Not lies, white lies. Huge difference, Mads.

"If you're sure," he smiled.

"I am," I assured him and turned to look down at the food, successfully avoiding his eyes as if they could read the truth thumping in my heart. "Now, let us eat. This breakfast looks divine."

I looked at his face, trying to avoid his eyes, but they caught mine nonetheless and a mischievous smile took over his lips. He whispered low and huskily, "Want me to feed breakfast to you?" and just like that all nervousness vanished as I indulged myself in a very blissful, euphoric morning—on the kitchen island.

* * * * *

Finn moved houses. Of course he had moved after his life had become stable but yet some part of me doubted that in the back of my mind. Finn had assured me that he had changed—not who he was because he would always be the same old Finn, but how he tackled situations; how he actually took on responsibility. Finn had disappointed me more than once in the past and I guess, some part of me wouldn't stop doubting if he actually got his shit together.

It was different from the Finn I was used to. Something new. Something I wasn't used to and perhaps that was what I was finding difficult to believe.

And his new house was certainly an upgrade from the shabby old flat he rented that smelled of tobacco and smoke (and was infested with one person I could not stand—his roommate). The last time I was in Finn's residence was over six years ago, when I gave him a brief goodbye and ran away. I hadn't given him an explanation, neither had I given my parents one, but I only left contact with one person and that was Finn—who hadn't had the nerve to call me until I was seven months into my pregnancy.

Shaking my head off the sad nostalgic thoughts, I pulled my car over the road, and took my phone from my handbag. Dialling Finn's number, I took a deep breath and reminded myself that this visit to Finn's house was innocent and that I didn't really lie to Bruce. I was just here to get my son. Only to get my son.

"Hey, where are you?" Finn greeted.

"Missed me?" I laughed.

"Dearly," he said in that serious voice of his that told me he was only joking. "Seriously, where are you?"

"Beside your street. I can't tell which is your house," I replied, looking at the houses in my line of sight.

"Okay, I'll come out and wave," he suggested.

"Or I could look for your car."

"Well, do you see it?"

"No, and I'm lazy to get out of the car and look for it. That would entail me walking more distance that is necessary," I replied in a whining tone.

A heard a low chuckle from the other end of the line and my lips automatically pulled up into a smile. "All right," he said and I heard a few noises in the background, "Do you see me now?"

I looked out of the window and a few metres away stood Finn, waving his hand frantically like it would be the last time he'd ever use it. Giggling to myself, I cut the call and put my phone back into my handbag before I drove a bit forward and pulled over on his driveway. I got out of the car, handbag on my arm, and smiled at the man who approached me.

"You call that waving?" I asked as a form of greeting.

He laughed, rolling his eyes before he leaned forward and pecked his lips upon my cheek. "Come on, let's get you inside. It's freezing out here."

As he ushered me to his house, I exclaimed airily, "Well, next weekend it wouldn't be freezing. It's Christmas."

He raised his eyebrows at me. "Christmas is smack dead in the middle of winter, babe. It is going to be freezing."

"But no. We would be at the Christmas party and you know how the heat and friction between our families always keeps us warm on that lovely winter evening," I explained.

He shook his head, smiling. "Stop with the exaggeration, Maddie. I'm going to show you the house. Riley is setting up the table for lunch."

"Okay," I stopped in my tracks, "before we go inside I have to say two things."

When I didn't say anything further he pushed, "Go on, we don't have forever, you know?"

"One," I started, holding up my index finger, "Riley is setting up the table? He never sets up the table. How did you get him to do that?"

"A father never reveals his secrets," he answered with a glint in his eyes.

"Unless of course it is the mother that he is revealing it to," I winked as I gave him an encouraging nod.

"Let me think about that," he pondered for a brief minute. "Hmm, no."

"Ha-ha," I retorted. "Second, I thought I'd never hear that. I'm going to show you the house? My Finn got a house!"

"Do you know any other Finns that would do anything to move out of that shabby old flat? And I moved out more than two years ago, Maddie. You and Rye just never found a reason to visit me here."

I pouted. "Is that your way of making me feel guilty."

"Guilty is charged," he grinned toothily. "Now, come on. We don't have forever." Grabbing my hand, he led me into his house and it almost felt like he was letting me back into his life—or more specifically, I was finally allowing him to let me back into his life.

Good didn't even cover half of what this felt like.

* * * * *

"Oh goodness," I moaned. "This is absolutely delicious. I miss this."

"Table manners, Maddie," Finn warned and I looked up. He mouthed, 'Rye,' before pointing at my son. It took a few seconds to click in my head and I rolled my eyes.

"There's nothing wrong with saying what I said," I laughed.

"It's the way you said. You moaned and that's just...inappropriate, especially since the audience we have now," Finn shook his head disapprovingly but there was still a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

"What's Dad talking about, Mum?" Riley asked, staring at his parents with confused eyes—innocent eyes.

"Nothing," I replied, winking at Riley. "Finn gets irked by etiquette and how I don't eat properly at the dinner table."

His eyebrows furrowed and I could tell that he genuinely didn't get that I was only doing this to tease his father. "But you said you liked the food. It's delicious and you miss it," Riley said before directing his next question at his father, "Why's that wrong, Dad?"

"Yeah, Finn" I agreed, turning my head and leaning it against a propped up elbow. My golden hair brushed to the side as I gave him a conniving sly smile and asked, "Why is that wrong."

Finn sighed. He couldn't deal when Riley and I joined forces against him—though Riley in this situation was completely oblivious to the fact that we joined forces and was truly confused. "There's nothing wrong. I love that Mummy thinks my food is delicious and that she misses it. In fact, I miss her eating my food, too." He paused, his lips tipping up into a grin when he noticed the innuendo that played on his words. My face flushed and my heart skipped a beat. Clearing his throat, he continued, "It's just the way she said it."

"Uh-huh," I mused, picking up my fork and digging it into a lone chip before putting it into my mouth and pulling it out in a leisurely slow pace before I looked at Finn through my eyelashes and said in a tone that was almost akin to a purring one, "And how should I have said it, Mr Jackson?"

Finn shook his head and muttered something under his breath.

Cupping my hand to my ear, I said in the usual dramatic manner, "What's that? Did you hear what Daddy just said?"

"No," Riley chimed in. "What did he say?"

"Nothing important," Finn said, giving a fake wide smile. "I just said I'm finding you very... Well, it rhymes with itch and has a b in front of it."

"Um," Riley mumbled, furrowing his eyebrows together. "What word is that?"

"It's not even a word, Rye. Ignore your farther. He's being dramatic as usual."

"But you're the most dramatic one, Mum," Riley inputted.

I raised a challenging eyebrow at my son. "You're siding with Daddy now?"

"No!" he exclaimed. "I don't even know what we're talking about."

Finn laughed before he ruffled Riley's hair. Riley pushed him away and I giggled—he hated when people ruffled his hair. He claimed it made him feel childish which he was but I wasn't going to argue with the logic of a six year old boy.

"You need a haircut, son," Finn advised with an amused smile to the reaction he got when he ruffled Riley's hair.

"Angela says she likes my hair," Riley argued.

"Angela?" Finn questioned, his eyes widening in surprise.

"Yes," I chimed in, my eyes glinting as my smile grew into a mischievous one. "Angela is this cute little girlfriend of Riley's that lets him borrow her red crayon all the time."

Riley was flushed and instantly resembled a ripe tomato. "She's not my girlfriend," Riley huffed angrily.

"I didn't say girlfriend," I denied, sticking out my tongue. "I said girl friend. Clear difference there, mate."

"She borrows you her red crayon, huh?" Finn questioned, his eyebrows raised suspiciously.

"It's nothing!" Riley defended, looking at the both of us like we were out of our minds but we were his parents and we had the right to embarrass him however much we pleased—and I wasn't going to deny that I enjoyed teasing him like this with Finn by my side.

"You're six," Finn stated. "Are you even supposed to be liking girls at this age?"

"I don't like her!" Riley exclaimed.

"Yeah?" Finn challenged. "Then why do you borrow her red crayon? And why does she let you borrow her red crayon? Red is a very particular colour."

"Because..." Riley looked from his farther back to me, all his arguments ran dry. He hung his head in defeat. "Because I like her."

"High five, mate," Finn grinned and held his palm out.

I gaped at the two boys as they high-fived, Riley's defeated frown turning into an instant wide grin. "I can't believe you, Rye. I could never get you to admit you liked her but Daddy could? How could you not tell me?"

Riley shrugged. "But you knew."

Finn winked at me. "Am I brilliant or what?"

"Start with me and..."

"Yes, yes," he sang. "All hell will break loose."

"And you call me the dramatic one," I rolled my eyes.

The lunch came to an end sooner than I anticipated and I found myself longing to stay there just for a little more time. But I had to visit Elisabeth at Regina's Care Centre and be back home in time for Riley to go to bed since he had school the next day so I reluctantly let Finn lead my son and I to the driveway, reducing the amount of meaningless conversation that I seemed to enjoy so much.

I looked at Finn with a smile and he mirrored mine but there was something in his expression that caught my eye.

"Riley," I said, still looking at Finn, "Why don't you get into the car. Mummy wants to talk to Daddy for a minute."

"But you talked for more than two hours!" Riley said.

"Riley," I said in a lowered voice, my tone that of a warning one which I used on Riley when he was about to overstep his boundaries.

"All right," he sighed, trudging back to the car.

"What was that about?" Finn asked and I drew my gaze away from my son and to his father.

"What's up, Finn?"

"Excuse me?"

"You want to say something, I know it," I pressed. "What do you want to say?"

He smiled, shaking his head incredulously but I saw how the nervousness creeped into his features. I wasn't a great reader of expressions but Finn and I had been around each other for years and I knew what he was feeling most of the time with a single look at his face. I knew he wanted to tell me something. I just didn't know why he was so hesitant to say it.

"That's bull," I rolled my eyes. "You want to say something to me. After we had lunch you had this...look on your face—"

"You are basing the assumption that I'm dying to tell you something because I had a look on my face?" Finn questioned, furrowing his eyebrows at me disbelievingly.

"Finn," I said, his name punctuated with the sternness held in my voice.

"Just because you use that tone on Riley doesn't mean it'll work on me. Come on, has eight years taught you nothing?" he smiled as he cocked his head to the side in playful inquisition.

I sighed. "Are you sure?"

He paused, his playful demeanour dropping. He tilted his head to the side and looked at me for a few seconds, drawing his lip in and holding it within the grasp of his teeth. He looked worried. I wasn't sure if it was about me or himself.

Finally huffing out to defeat, he breathed, "Are you happy?"

"What?"

"Mads, you heard me the first time loud and clear," he exasperated, a smile nowhere to be seen.

"What are you getting at, Finn?"

He took a deep breath in. "Nothing," he answered.

"It doesn't seem like nothing to me," I pushed, my temper being tapped into.

"Are you happy, Madilyn," he asked softly and the fact that he hadn't called me by my nickname showed me that he was being serious. He rarely ever did call me Madilyn. It had always been Maddie or Mads. Maybe it was this that got me to shut up or maybe it was the look in his eyes—I couldn't attach an emotion to the look in those blue eyes of his at that moment but it was strong and it made my confidence falter.

He sighed, reading my facial expression just as clear as I could read his. "I'm going to say something and it may be hurtful or it may not be."

I looked at him, swallowing the lump in my throat.

When I didn't say anything in reply, he touched my elbow, leaning in closer so his eyes were on par with mine. His deep gaze bore into mine and for a second I just looked at them, forgetting where I was and what was happening. "Say it, Finn. It never stopped you from saying harsh things in the past," I pointed out and I didn't quite care if I sounded icy. I felt the slight emotion of betrayal and I didn't even know why.

"You claim that Bruce is a good man—"

"Because he is!" I shouted, standing my ground.

"I'm not questioning that—"

"You're tone said otherwise," I argued.

He sighed, putting his hand to his temple. "Look, Maddie. I get that Bruce is a brilliant man. You say you like him a lot. And I respect that which is why I am trying my best not to overstep my boundaries."

"What boundaries?" I asked, swallowing hard. I knew what he was talking about but I wanted to hear him say it out loud.

He continued like he didn't hear me, "I just want you to be happy. I only want the best for you and I know you can only fall in love with a man who gets along with Riley, which is something hard to find out there. So if Bruce really has your heart then stick to him, stop having doubts, stop putting up your walls, Maddie."

"I—"

"No, I know you. The walls go up the instant you feel like you've entered a vulnerable position. Being in love is not vulnerable. All I truly want to ask is: do you see yourself falling in love with Bruce?"

I swallowed before I nodded. When I was able to come up with a verbal answer, I said, "Yes, Finn. I do see myself falling in love with him."

He stared at me for a few seconds. This was one of those rare moments that I couldn't tell what he was thinking. Finally, he broke the silence by stepping back, and letting go of my elbow. The touch was so miniature but when he removed his hand from my elbow it felt like my heart cracked a little—or perhaps that crack that was there from over six years ago merely expanded.

"I should go," I said, my voice hoarse. Why did I feel like crying?

"You should."

"Okay, I'll see you at Christmas." I stood there dumbly, waiting for our usual goodbye but when it never came, I took a deep breath, leaned forward and grasped his forearms with my hands after swinging my handbag up to my shoulder. Leaning on my tiptoes I brushed my lips against Finn's cheek, who looked stoic in response to our usual goodbye, before I leaned backward. Without as much as a look at Finn, I turned on my heel and walked briskly back to the car.

"What did you and Dad talk about?" Riley instantly questioned me once I got settled into my seat.

I pulled out of Finn's driveway and drove down the road leading us back to Porte Orlands. "Nothing," I replied, my voice cracking. "Absolutely nothing, Rye."

My heart was aching. I only wished I knew why.