— Winter 2034 —

There is a blizzard going on one night in NYC. Snow is blowing sideways and the windows in the couple’s apartment is completely white. A man named Weston comes out of a room; he slowly closes the door behind him while holding a baby monitor in his hands. He takes a deep breath once he’s in the living room area; he’s exhausted and had a really long day taking care of his and his wife’s first born child, Grace. The dark circles and thinness of his face indicates it’s been days since he had a chance to take care of himself.

He walks over to the couch and looks at the clock on the wall; it’s nearly 4 o’clock in the morning and his wife still isn’t home. He’s exhausted, but he’s too angry to go to sleep. Weston has been trying to get a hold of his wife, Mollie, for the last three days; ever since Grace came down with a pretty bad cold. The first night he was so nervous, he took Grace to the hospital to get her checked out. The next two days, he got the hang of taking care of their 9-month-old baby without her help. Mollie’s inconsiderateness whenever she travels for her job has gotten worse once Grace was born and Weston has been taking note of it. Tonight was the night that Mollie would finally come home, and Weston has a lot to talk about with her when she does.

The sounds of keys hitting the front door is heard by Weston; he immediately looks up to the door. Mollie walks through the door with three bags covered in snow; Weston gets up to help her out. Once she’s settled in, Weston goes to sit back on the sofa.

Mollie: The snow is brutal out there, Wes! Thank god I was able to get a cab home before it got bad.

Weston: *indifferent* Yeah, you are.

Mollie doesn’t catch the hint, and continues to get herself out of the wet clothes from the snow. Once she comes out in a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie, she goes straight into the kitchen.

Mollie: *shouts from Kitchen* I’m glad you waited up for me to come home, babe!

Weston walks to the kitchen.

Weston: Our daughter is sleeping, Mollie.

Mollie: *puts a hand over her mouth* Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to be so loud.

Weston: *snarky* Yeah, it’s not like it’s just us anymore.

Mollie looks at Weston with a mouthful of chips in her mouth. She doesn’t say anything to him.

Weston: Well, now that you’re here, I’m going to bed. See you in the morning, Mol.

Mollie: Wait, I just got home! Don’t you wanna stay up with me for awhile, ask how my trip was?

Weston looks back at Mollie.

Weston: I’ve been up for 24 hours straight taking care of our sick baby, so no. I don’t.

He turns back and walks into the bedroom. Mollie is dumbfounded and offended. She storms herself into their bedroom.

Mollie: What the hell is your problem, Weston?

Weston: *snappy* My problem is that I’m fucking exhausted and I want to get some sleep!

Mollie: I wasn’t born yesterday, I know you’re mad at me or something.

Weston turns around to face Mollie.

Weston: Oh, so you know that I’ve tried calling you for the last couple of days and still didn’t bother calling me back?

Mollie: I was working, Weston. I was busy.

Weston: Too busy to even check up on your family, goddammit!

Mollie is taken back by Weston’s aggression. She seen him angry before, but not this level of angry.

Mollie: Look, I’m sorry. I told myself I would call you back when I had free time. I just simply forgot to.

Weston: Of course you did, you’re Mollie Sue friggin’ Ashmore.

Weston begins to pull back the comforter from the bed until Mollie puts her hand on it to stop him.

Mollie: *angry* What the hell is that supposed to mean?

Weston: It means that you don’t think of anyone else besides yourself and your damn dancing career.

Mollie: That’s not true!

Weston: Oh tell someone who cares, Mol! How many times have you’ve been home since Grace was born? You’ll pick up every phone call that has to do with your career but God forbid I try calling you to tell you that our daughter is fucking sick and needed to go to the hospital.

Mollie: *yells* What the fuck was I supposed to do across the fucking world, Weston? Huh?

Weston walks around the bed towards Mollie. He’s now face-to-face with her, angry as ever.

Weston: I told you that our daughter is fucking sleeping, Mollie. If she wakes up, you’ll be going in there to put her back to sleep.

Weston turns around and walks away.

Weston: *to himself* That would be the most motherly thing you’ve done thus far if you did.

Mollie hears the comment and is fuming.

Mollie: How dare you, you son of a bitch.

Weston: Mollie, just face the facts! You didn’t want this life. You never wanted Grace and it shows. You found every excuse in the book to go back to work once Grace was born.

Mollie: I’m her mother goddammit, of course I want her!

Weston: *yells* Then fucking act like it!

Mollie flinches. Weston takes a deep breath in.

Weston: I’m sorry for yelling at you, but we have a serious issue on our hands, Mol.

Mollie: I’m sorry for not calling, Wes–

Weston: It’s not about the phone call. It’s about… this. Us. Our family.

Mollie stares at Weston, wondering where he’s going with this.

Weston: Mollie… Things haven’t been the same with you for awhile now. You seem like you’re lost half the time or unhappy being home. It’s like your body is here, but your mind isn’t.

Mollie: *deep breath* Weston… I-

Weston: And what makes it worse is that you act like Grace isn’t here. I get it, you’re still young and you wanna live out your 20’s like a 20-something-year-old, but we have responsibilities now. We are parents, Mol. It’s not just about us anymore.

Mollie: Weston, you don’t understand…

Weston: I do, Mol, I do. You don’t think I wanna be young and carefree too?

Mollie: If you think this is about me wanting to savor my youth, then that proves my point that you don’t fucking understand.

Weston: Then make me understand. Make sense how you were able to carry our daughter for nine months and act like a complete stranger around her.

Mollie: I wasn’t ready to be a mother yet, Weston! I’m still not ready to be one and she knows it! She already hates me, she does nothing but cry for you and love you and she just wants nothing to do with me and I understand why.

Weston: She’s a baby, Mol, she doesn’t hate you or know anything that you may be feeling…

Mollie: That doesn’t mean anything, she can still sense how much of a shitty mother I am and she’s right. I am a shitty mother because I wasn’t ready to be a mother!

Weston: And you think I was ready to be a father?! Mol, I had to put my career on hold for a bit in order to be there for Grace; you think I wanted to do that? No, but I needed to because I am her fucking father. She comes first now, everything I do is because of her!

Mollie grabs her head in frustration, she paces in a circle on one side of the bed. She can’t take it anymore.

Mollie: Just shut up already! Shut up!

A cry is heard on the baby monitor on the nightstand. Both parents look at it. Weston looks up at Mollie, then proceeds to leave the bedroom to assist to his daughter. Mollie sits on the edge of the bed for a bit, until she walks towards the doorframe of their bedroom and looks out. She sees Weston holding Grace while shhing her, bouncing her a little bit and whispering to her. She smirks at the sight; Weston is a natural and he’s going to be an amazing father for their daughter; anything more than she could be. The smile fades and she walks into the bedroom again.

Moments later, Weston walks into the bedroom. Mollie sits at the edge of the bed; her eyes trace Weston’s every step. Silence fills the room for the first time that night.

Mollie: You’re an amazing father, Weston.

Weston: *looks at Mollie* Thanks. She’s an amazing kid.

Silence. Mollie is speechless.

Weston: Listen, Mollie… we can’t be fighting like this and we can’t keep continue living the way we’re living. Grace is growing up, and sooner or later she’s gonna sense your absence. She’s gonna believe she’s the problem and I refuse for her to ever believe she was the reason you never were around.

Mollie: I’ll still be here, Wes, it’s just my job, my career–

Weston: Y’know, even after this whole conversation, you’re still worried about your damn career. I get it, you worked hard for it. I worked hard for mine too. But I know when to turn that off. You and this dance career… there’s no getting through you.

Mollie doesn’t say anything. Weston goes and sit’s next to Mollie. He takes a deep breath in.

Weston: Mollie, I’m tired. I’m tired of being the only one here taking care of Grace. She has two parents, not just one. I know you may just need some help getting into the swing of things, but it seems like you don’t even want to try, and that speaks volumes. I want what’s best for Grace and you should too, and that requires some sacrifices.

Mollie looks at Weston, and he looks at her.

Weston: Mol, you have to choose what your priorities are right now.

Mollie: I know, I know-

Weston: No. You don’t.

Mollie stares at Weston has he gets up from the bed and takes a deep breath while he’s in thought. He turns around and faces Mollie.

Weston: It’s either your family or your career. Pick one.

Mollie: *shocked* What? Are you out of your mind?!

Weston: No, Mol, I’m not. I’m not saying give up everything you worked for, I’m saying no matter what, your family comes first.

Mollie: That’s not fair, Weston! You can’t just expect me to choose one or the other on the spot, I–

Weston: *stern* It’s your family, or your career. Pick one.

Weston picks up his pillow from the bed and walks towards the bedroom door.

Mollie: Where are you going?

Weston: To the couch. Giving you your space for the night… Love you, Mol.

He walks out of the bedroom door and closes it behind him. Mollie doesn’t move.

---

Weston wakes up from the sound of Grace crying in her room. He quickly gets up and gets for from her crib.

Weston: Hey princess, you’re up earlier than usual *feels her forehead* no fever, that’s good!

He smiles at Grace and she smiles back. Weston is utterly in love with his daughter.

He takes her to the living room and places her in the playpen. He takes a deep breath and remembers he needs to talk things out with Mollie now that they both would be more calm after sleeping. Weston walks to the bedroom to check on Mollie.

Weston: *knocks* Mollie? Hey, you’re up yet?

He walks into the bedroom and sees that no one is in the room.

Weston: *panics* Mollie?!

Weston rushes out of the room and searches the apartment for Mollie. He checks the bathroom, the living room again, the kitchen; nothing. He picks Grace up from the playpen once she starts crying out for him; he walks to Grace’s room with her in his arms.

He sits down in the chair adjacent from her crib. His thoughts are everywhere: where did Mollie go? Did she go for a walk? To her mom’s house to think? Jennifer’s? Milo & Sophie’s? He had no idea where to look first.

When he looks around the room, he notices a big, fuchsia box with paisley design is under the crib. He gets up from the chair and places Grace back in the crib for a moment. Weston pulls the box from under the crib; there is an envelope on the top labeled, “Weston”.

He opens up the letter and begins to read it:

Weston,

This letter is possibly one of the hardest thing I had to do, but I promise myself and to you that I would always be honest with you because you deserve it. I’m not on the right mindset. I feel lost and I feel like I’ve been nothing but a burden to you and Grace. She loves you, Weston, and as long as you love her unconditionally and give her the absolute world, that’s all that she needs in this life.

I will never regret having Grace, and I will always hold a special place in my heart for her. The way she makes you smile and makes you laugh and the connection you guys have is honestly something I envy for myself. I wish my own father loved me the way you love her. I’m grateful she gets to call you her dad, because you’re absolutely amazing at it.

I am not ready for the responsibilities of parenthood. I tried so hard to show Grace my love and caring nature and for me it did not feel genuine. It didn’t feel like I was her mother. I blame it on myself. I blame it on the fact that I will never feel like I’m a good person for the people in my life. To me, the best version of myself is when I’m dancing. The last time I’ve felt like myself was at the showcase where you brought Grace along with you. The sparkle in her eyes and her curiosity is something I’ll never forget.

You asked me to choose the life that I wanted to live. I chose the life that was right for me and for everyone else.

Weston, I only ask for two things: first, you hand this box to Grace on her 18th birthday. Not any later and not any sooner. This box is just everything I ever wanted to give her; the things that made me smile about her, my favorite memories with her within the past year, and the picture of Grace and I from the showcase. There’s a letter in there for her for when she turns 18.

Secondly, I want you to give her the best life she possibly can. She deserves the whole world. She deserves all the love she can possibly get because she’s a fucking gem in this world. She’s funny, she’s sweet, she’s already so independent and you two love each other to the moon and back. If anyone could love Grace the way she deserves to be loved, it’s you.

I’m so sorry, Weston. This decision isn’t the easiest to make, but I know I would not be the person you fell in love with if we continued to live the way we’re living. You and Grace will always hold a special place in my heart, and I will forever love you both, but I can’t be the person you want me to be.

I wish you both the best in life.

-Mollie

Weston puts the letter down and is shocked. He looks back into the envelope and sees another folded piece of paper. Divorce papers. Weston scrunches his eyebrows in anger; how long has she had these goddamn papers? He can’t move from the spot on the floor he’s sitting in. He looks through the crib bars and sees Grace playing with a toy without a care in the world. He instantly calms down and takes a deep breath.

Weston: It’s just you and me, babe.

Weston continues to sit there and watch grace play in her crib. Nothing moves, nothing is in a panic, he just sits there, looking at his daughter.

— The End —

*read the first part of this story here*

The apartment is noticeably quiet after what transpired just a couple of hours ago in Micah & Rosie’s living room. No one is out in the living room, the kitchen, and both bedroom doors are closed.

Moments later, a bedroom door opens and a man in a t-shirt and sweatpants walks out; he is holding a pile of damp formalwear. He walks towards the bathroom/laundry room and tosses the clothes in the washer. After starting up the washer, he looks at himself in the mirror. He looks tired and his dreadlocks bun is now sagging after the exhausting night he had. 

He looks through the mirror when the door behind him is opened. It’s Rosie. She’s in her pajamas, which nowadays is just one of Micah’s old t-shirts to fit over her growing belly. She walks in with her hands on top of her head, holding her hair.

Rosie: Just here to get a hair tie.

Micah doesn’t budge. She just walks in and goes to the sink where her little tray of hair ties are, picks one up, and leaves without saying anything. Micah just stares at her.

Micah walks out of the room and into the kitchen area where he finds Rosie looking through the cabinets. She slams each and every one of them when she’s done looking through them.

Micah: Can you not slam the doors, Roe? It’s 3 in the morning and I don’t need the neighbors complaining.

Rosie: Oh, but the wild, reunion sex you and your ex were going to have if I didn’t walk in the room would’ve been okay for the neighbors to hear?

She grabs a mug from the dish rack and pours some chips in it for a snack. She walks past Micah and goes into the living room. He follows her.

Micah: We weren’t going to have sex, so stop saying that.

Rosie: *sarcastically* Man, I didn’t know that making out while one of your shirts being undone isn’t the lead way to sex.

Micah: *angrily* Yeah, not everyone is like you, Rosie.

Rosie looks at Micah; furious.

Rosie: What the fuck does that suppose to mean?

Micah: You’re no fucking saint. You’re getting on my case for even bringing Kalia back here, but you’re the one to go to Prescott after the countless times he treated you like shit and mistakenly get pregnant!

Rosie: Go fuck yourself, Micah!

Rosie walks towards her bedroom. Just when she tries to slam the door on Micah, he stops it with his hand.

Micah: I don’t why you’re all angry about this, Rosie. Why the hell would you care if I brought Kalia back here in the first place?

Rosie: Get out of my room.

Micah doesn’t leave. Rosie reaches out for a pillow and throws it at him.

Rosie: Get out!

Micah: No, Roe. I’m not. Not until you tell me what the fuck was wrong with you tonight?

Rosie gets up out of her bed and walks towards Micah, now face-to-face with him. 

Rosie: Because I was there when you got all fucked up from her, Micah. I was the one that had to deal with your drunk and high ass every other night when things got bad. I was one that had your back when you missed almost a month of school; I practically used my week’s paycheck photocopying all the work for your classes so you wouldn’t drop out! I was the one who watched you go through all that shit, and one night with her at some snobby gala got you ready to jump into bed with her like nothing happened. So excuse me for calling her a skank and for almost throwing my hands at her because I swear if I wasn’t pregnant, I would’ve beat that bitch up, and then probably beat you up for even bringing her back here. So excuse me for giving a fuck about you. All I get for doing that is just a slap in the face about my old ways. Some fucking best friend you are, Micah.

She turns around and starts going through her drawers for clothes, she takes a bag out of her closest and starts to pack things in it. 

Micah: I’m sorry, Roe, I didn’t mean what I said. Can we just talk?

Rosie ignores Micah and keeps throwing things in the bag. Micah calls her name out a couple of times; nothing. He finally walks over to her and stops her from doing what she’s doing. She pushes him away hard enough to knock him on the floor.

Micah: *angrily* Look, I don’t know what the hell your problem is, but I’m trying to say I’m sorry for what I said, but the way you acted tonight was no exception! Are you even thinking about the baby when you try to do stupid shit out of anger?

Rosie doesn’t answer, she just keeps packing, which angers Micah even more.

Micah: *furious* You know, this is the type of shit I hate about you, Rosie. You get mad at me for something that you have no part of, and then get angry when I throw that same energy back to you! You can’t keep acting like the world owes you an apology and you can’t keep running the fuck away from everything when things get difficult. If you can’t take it, then don’t give it out! *sighs* I’m fucking sorry, okay? What else do you want me to say? I’m a horrible person? Huh? Would that make you feel any better? Well, I’m a fucking horrible person then, Rosie!

As Micah gets up to leave Rosie’s room, Rosie gets up as well.

Rosie: Micah.

He stops in his tracks. Her voice makes it impossible for him to leave. He turns around to Rosie. Rosie reaches for something on top of her dresser. She takes it, throws it towards Micah, and reaches it for her bag.

Micah looks at the item in his hands; it’s Rosie’s copy of the key to the apartment. He looks back up to her.

Rosie: You’re not a horrible person. You’re a horrible fucking friend.

She walks past him towards the front door. Micah doesn’t move.

Half a day later:

A couple is sitting on a couch walking reality television while cuddling and eating snacks. The couple, Tanner and Daniella, are commenting on the show until the doorbell rings. Tanner gets up from the sofa and answers the door. It’s Micah, drenched in rainwater.

Tanner: Hey, man! What the hell happened to you? Don’t believe in umbrellas?

Tanner opens the door wide enough for Micah to walk in. He walks in looking around the living room/kitchen area.

Micah: Is Rosie here?

Daniella: No, it’s just us; why would she be here?

Micah: *nervously sighs* I’ve been trying to contact her all day but her phone’s been off. I’m getting worried.

Daniella: Maybe she went to Philly to her mentor or something?

Micah: She gave me the apartment key back.

Both Tanner and Daniella are shocked.

Tanner: What happened?

Micah: We got into this huge fight after the gala. I… I ran into Kalia at the gala and brought her back to the apartment.

Daniella: *angrily* How can you be so fucking stupid, Mic?!

Micah: I wasn’t thinking, okay Dani?!

Tanner: Look, yelling at each other isn’t gonna solve anything. *to Micah* Why’d you bring Kalia to your apartment? You guys were gonna.. *claps hands together* y’ know?

Daniella holds her head in frustration.

Micah: No, I wasn’t gonna have sex with her, things just started to happened and I don’t know, everything was coming back and she was unbuttoning my shirt and she saw the matching tattoo I got with Roe and I instantly snapped out of it. Then Roe came out of her room and saw Kalia and *facepalms* Rosie was two seconds away from swinging at her, man. Things were getting ugly.

Daniella: You should’ve let Rosie beat that bitch up!

Tanner: Dani…

Daniella: *mockingly* Tanner.

Micah: I didn’t understand why Roe acted the way she did. She could’ve gotten herself hurt, or got our baby hurt and-

Daniella: *confused* Our baby?

Micah: *gathers thoughts* H-Her baby, Dani, sheesh. But we got into a huge fight and said some really horrible things to her about her past and she just packed her things and left. I fucked up and I’m just trying to get a hold of her to talk things out. She’s my friend.

Daniella: *sighs* Here we go again…

Micah: What?

Daniella: Micah, I love you like a brother, but you’re so fucking delusional and stubborn that you still can’t admit to yourself that you’re in love with this girl.

Micah: I care about her, Dani! It doesn’t mean I’m in love with her!

Daniella: Bullshit! It’s one thing to let Rosie move in with you to help her out while she gets things together and carries another guy’s baby, but you just said that you were afraid that Rosie was gonna hurt “our” baby. It still bothers you that she got herself pregnant with some asshole and not you, and every chance you get, you throw it in her face. You’re not mad at her, you’re mad at yourself.

Micah: I don’t remember asking for your opinion, Dani.

Daniella: I didn’t give you my opinion, Micah, I gave you the fucking truth.

Tanner: Okay, okay! That’s enough! *to Daniella* babe, take it down a couple of notches. *to Micah* Micah, you have to be honest with yourself, man. You didn’t have sex with Kalia because you thought about Rosie and you couldn’t go through with it.

Micah: Yeah, she would’ve been pissed that I did. I gave her a hard time when I first broke up with Kalia, she was just looking out for me.

Tanner: Nah man, you didn’t do it because you love Rosie. Any friend would have done what you’re doing for Rosie, but taking another man’s kid in as your own says more than that.

Micah takes a deep breath. He rubs his tired eyes and looks at two of his best friends in front of him. 

Micah: I’m fucking in love with Rosie Delgado, and I fucked everything up.

He sits on a chair in the room with regret in his face. Tanner paces back and forth while Daniella is still sitting on the couch, facing the two men in the room. 

Micah: Maybe I brought Kalia back to the apartment because I just thought maybe I’d stop thinking about my feelings towards Rosie. Rosie isn’t like other girls. She’s not an easy person that allows anyone in and if she has in the past, it’s because all she knows is one type of man, and that’s a man that doesn’t give a shit about her and lives off of his daddy’s money. I didn’t let her live with me and I didn’t offer to be in this baby’s life for some credit hoping one day she’ll love me back. I did it because I fucking love her and she deserves all the fucking love in the world. But my dumbass ruined that last night when I threw her weakness back in her face. Because I was a fucking coward. Because I can’t tell her that I love her more than anyone else I’ve been within my life.

Tanner and Daniella look at each other and then back at Micah when his phone starts ringing. Micah immediately picks it up, hoping it is Rosie.

Micah: Hello?… Speaking… Yeah, I’m Micah Kamalani… *long pause, eyes widen* What? When? How?… Oh my- ye-yeah, I’m on my way… Thank you.

Micah hangs up the phone and looks at the two people in front of him who are looking just as worried as him. Micah looks like he was just seen a ghost.

Micah: … Rosie’s in the hospital… she-she tried to kill herself.

— The End —

A woman with curly hair and glasses, Jennifer, walks into her bedroom and looks at the bookshelf for something. She scans the many books until she comes across the book she’s looking for; her high-school yearbook. She takes it off the shelf and looks at it before opening it. She opens it and skims through it, remembering all the people she once used to see every day. She then stops at a page where her and her three best friend Milo, Nicki, and Danny are posing for a picture at prom. She smiles.

A man with tied up dreadlocks and glasses on, Milo, walks into the room and sees his wife sitting on the bed, flipping through the book.

Milo: *playfully* Getting ready to claw the eyes of your enemies?

Jennifer deadpans; “haha”.

Jennifer: I’m just looking through our yearbook, preparing myself of the people that used to go to high-school with us before our reunion this weekend.

Milo: Are you nervous?

Jennifer: *flips through pages* A little. I mean, it’s been 10 years already.

Milo: So? You’re still hot as ever.

Jennifer: *raises eyebrow* Oh? You thought I was hot when we were in high-school? Didn’t you have a girlfriend ten years ago that wasn’t me?

Milo: *cheeky* I mean, ten years later I’m married to you, right?

Jennifer closes the yearbook and rolls her eyes. She gets up from the bed and puts the yearbook back on the shelf. Milo gets ready for bed.

Milo: Seriously though, there’s no reason to be nervous.

Jennifer gets into bed next to Milo.

Jennifer: I don’t know, we left high-school in a weird way. You were dating Diana, I was dating Craig… she was my enemy, he was yours…

Milo: I mean, we were both young and dumb… and probably desperate.

Jennifer nudges Milo.

Milo: The past is the past, babe. You don’t know where these people are now.

Jennifer: *soft* Besides Craig, who’s in jail now…

Silence. Milo sighs to break it.

Milo: What I’m saying is that we aren’t there to compare each other and see how successful we’ve become in the last ten years. We’re honestly there to just see old friends and have a good time, babe.

Jennifer: I know. You’re right.

Jennifer fluffs up her pillow and begins to get comfortable. Milo stares at her.

Milo: What else are you worried about?

Jennifer: *playing dumb* Whatcha mean?

Milo: Pep…

Jennifer shoots back up to face Milo.

Jennifer: You know everyone is going to ask about Gwen.

Milo: *confused* What?

Jennifer: People are going to ask about Gwen, Mi. You know it.

Milo: Pep, Gwen died in 2008. We were just sophomores when that happened, I doubt people remember Gwen being my girlfriend.

Jennifer: You got the smartest girl in our grade, who also happened to have cancer, pregnant at 15. I doubt people forgot about that.

Milo: Pep, you were also my best friend, I think people who don’t even matter will remember us as inseparable as teenagers.

Jennifer: Not unless you have some secret crazy admirer who’s using the reunion as some way to take you home at the end of the night…

Milo: *laughs* You have to stop watching Lifetime movies in between Micah’s naps, babe.

Jennifer sighs and turns over to go to sleep. Milo tries to comfort Jennifer.

Milo: I’m kidding, but seriously – you don’t have to be worried. I won’t allow you to have a bad time there, Pep. We’ll dance the night away, have a couple of drinks here and there, and introduce my wife, Jennifer, to everyone who comes up to me.

Jennifer: *turns around* Really?

Milo: Of course. If anything, I’ll be the luckiest guy at this reunion because I get to call you my wife.

Jennifer: *soft* Aww, Milo… *playfully pinches Milo’s cheeks*  You have to stop watching Hallmark movie in between grading papers, babe.

Milo tackles Jennifer in the bed and tickles her; she’s heard laughing loud and telling Milo to stop. He laughs as he finally leaves her alone. Jennifer is straightening out her frizzy, curly hair.

Jennifer: Why do you love making my hair more of a frizzy mess than it already is?

Milo: Because it’s been my thing since we were kids. Remember that time I messed up your hair when you were talking to that guy you liked in elementary school?

Jennifer: Oh, you mean when I practically chased you all the way home and your mom wouldn’t let me in the house because you started crying for your life?

Milo: *exaggerates* You were a scary ass kid, Pep!

Jennifer: Yet you loved to test me!

Milo: What can I say? I loved to live on the wild side.

Jennifer: The only wild side you used to live when we were kids was you going home a minute after your curfew.

Milo: *deadpans* Someone had to be the responsible one between us.

Jennifer: That surely changed when we were teenagers.

Milo look at Jennifer with a semi-serious look on his face.

Jennifer: *backtracks* I mean, you were still responsible taking care of Milo Jr.

Milo: *smiles* Thank you.

They both look up at the ceiling in silence. 

Milo: Remember our graduation day? How my mom was holding Milo in the audience and he just wailed out a cry when my name got called?

Jennifer: Remember it? I lived it. It was the loudest baby roar in the auditorium.

Milo: *laughs* He was so small. God. Where does the time go?

Jennifer: To believe that Milo is only two grades away from being in high-school scares me. Like, for him to go through all the crazy shit we went through. Hopefully his experience isn’t so wild.

Milo: Nah, he’s a good kid. If anything, he got that quality from Gwen.

Jennifer: Hey, you’re a good person too.

Milo stays silent. He’s deep in thought and Jennifer turns to face him in his deep thought.

Milo: I don’t know how I graduated high-school while taking care of a baby all at the same time.

Jennifer: You had people who loved and cared about you.

Milo: Yeah, but, it wasn’t the easiest thing in the world. I’m thankful for having a roof over my head but, it was just hard living in the same house as the man who didn’t even acknowledge me or hi grandson.

Jennifer: *concerned* He was mean to Milo?

Milo: I mean, he would tell him that he was too busy to hang out or play with him. Then my mother would come in and try to make things better by offering to spend time with him instead.

Jennifer is empathetic to Milo. She doesn’t break her attention away from Milo while he speaks.

Milo: I’m just glad I’m where I am at now. Shit’s still not easy, but it’s easier than it was.

Jennifer: *smiles* And you’re an amazing father as well.

Milo looks at Jennifer and smiles. He kisses her gently on the forehead.

Milo: *rehearses* “Hey, yeah remember me? Milo Kamalani? Beanie, geeky music kid? Ahh, so you remember Jennifer, my best friend. Yeah, she really is hot, right? Oh, you wanna see what’s up with her? I heard she’s married, bro. Yeah, sorry – she has two kids and still look that good. How do I know this? She’s married to me.”

Jennifer laughs and kisses Milo.

Jennifer: *rehearses* “Oh, hey girl! Yeah I was the girl that accidently set your ponytail on fire in chemistry class… Oh, really? You saw Milo and you think he grew up to be good looking? You know that you once called him gay for being a creative guy, right? Well I gotta break it to you, hun, Milo is actually my husband and girl, does he get creative in the bed-“

Jennifer stops once her and Milo see their bedroom door open and 12-year-old, Milo Jr., stand there in his pajamas.

Milo Jr: … Get a room… or a different house.

Milo Jr. walks out of the bedroom and shouts out that Micah is crying, which makes Micah cry even more. Milo gets up out of the bed first to tend Micah; Jennifer sits in the bed, smiling, happy this is where she is ten years later.

— The End —

A man in his mid-40’s, scruffy beard and tousled dirty blonde hair, Weston, is sitting at a desk in his studio apartment in the city. He’s doing work on the laptop with a glass of red wine next to his paperwork. He takes off his glasses and rubs his eyes; its tasks like this that explain his poor eyesight and need for glasses and the occasional contact lenses. His trance breaks when he hears the doorbell ring. 

He’s confused as he looks at the door. He wasn’t expecting anymore, not that he ever gets company at this time of night anyway. He gets up from his chair and checks the door; possibly it’s his daughter, Grace? Did something happen to her?

Without even looking through the peephole, he opens the door and surprised at who is standing there. A woman with frizzy curly ginger red hair, Mollie, is standing there. The bottom of her jeans is wet from the rain.

Weston: H-Hey Mollie.

He immediately lets Mollie in. She enters the apartment and looks around while Weston closes the door behind her.

Mollie: Grace was right, your apartment is more of a hotel room.

She looks at Weston and smiles. He laughs at her statement.

Weston: *playfully* Oh is that so? Grace talks about me behind my back?

Mollie: She’s 19, she talks about everyone, Weston.

They both laugh. Conversations about Grace aren’t as awkward anymore after their reunion dinner a couple of months back.

Weston: *offering with his hands out* Would you like me to take your coat and umbrella?

Mollie takes off her coat and hands both the coat and umbrella to Weston. He gets a hanger from the closet to hang up the coat to dry while Mollie walks around the living room area and spots a couple of photos on the wall.

Mollie: I didn’t take you to be a “photos on the wall” type of man.

He walks over to Mollie and faces the wall of pictures as well.

Weston: It makes the place homier, y’ know?

Mollie thinks about the fact she’s been back in New York for almost a decade yet had no pictures on her wall in her two-bedroom apartment. Weston has been here for less than a year and his place looks like it’s actually lived in.

Mollie analyzes the wall until she sees a photo that looks familiar; it’s a photo of him holding a dinosaur and standing next to his twin brother, Mason. 

Mollie: Wow, I remember this photo. *points up to it* You had it in your mom’s place back when we were teenagers.

Weston looks up at the picture.

Weston: Yeah, I asked if it was okay for me to take it, I-

He turns his head at Mollie, shocked.

Weston: You remembered that?

Mollie looks back up to Weston to answer his question.

Mollie: Of course I do. It was the first time you told me about your dad. It was also the first time I told you about my dad, and the earrings and all of that… 

Weston is surprised at Mollie’s memory.

Weston: Time flies, huh?

Mollie smiles and looks back at the wall of pictures. She analyzes all of the pictures of Grace when she was a child. Weston notices.

Weston: Grace freakishly had your mannerisms as a child.

Mollie: *shocked* Really?

Weston: Oh yeah. She got herself in sticky situations with her friends and disobeying teachers and stuff. I had her principal on speed dial.

Mollie: *laughs* Come on, that’s normal for a kid to go through.

Weston: She was once bored at my office back in Virginia. She thought she wanted to be ‘just like Daddy’ and play with my partner’s gun. She shot at a potted plant and scared half of the bureau to death.

Mollie laughs but covers her mouth instantly. Weston smiles.

Weston: At least no one was hurt, and we definitely laugh about it every now and then.

Mollie smiles and looks back at the wall again. She notices a picture of herself wearing a sparkly dance costume with Baby Grace in her arms. Mollie is taken back at the picture.

Mollie: You kept this picture?

Weston looks at the picture Mollie is talking about. He seems flustered and nervous.

Weston: Y-Yeah, I just… really love this picture of you two.

Mollie: I remember putting it in the box of things for Mollie’s 18th birthday though.

Weston is even more surprised that Mollie remembers these little things about their past. He questions how much she thinks about these things in a day.

Weston: She gave it to me before she left for college. She figured she didn’t need it, considering she was living with you while she’s here.

Mollie: *distracted* I remember that day. I had just finished the North American leg of the “New World” production. You brought Grace to the last show. You came backstage with her in one hand, and flowers in the other. Grace looked so amazed by her surroundings… huge smile on her face, looking curious.

Weston looks at Mollie while she recalls the memory. He’s intrigued about how she remembers the minor details.

Weston: She was in her glory that day.

Mollie looks at Weston, and they both smile at each other. They both walk away from the wall; Weston hands over to the kitchen while Mollie sits on the sofa in the living room. Without asking, Weston walks over to Mollie with a cup of coffee: creamer and 3 sugars. Mollie is surprised he remembers how she liked her coffee.

Weston: So, what brings you over to this side of town in the pouring rain at this time of night?

Mollie nervously laughs and takes a deep breath. 

Mollie: Seems like a habit of mine, huh?

Weston laughs; he knows she’s talking about the night they knew.

Weston: Yeah, just a bit. But it was fun that night.

Mollie: Oh really?

Weston: Yeah. I don’t think about what happened afterwards. I just think about us that night.

Mollie blushes a little, then realizes he’s probably picking it up and noticing it. Gosh, she feels like a teenager again.

Mollie: That’s… sweet of you to think of that night that way, Weston.

Weston: What can I say? We got laid that night.

Mollie laughs with her whole body. Weston is just as honest and funny as he was when they were kids. Weston smiles at Mollie. Mollie laughs just as loud and hearty as she did when they were kids. 

Mollie: That’s one way to think of it. *laughs* I just… wanted to check on you. Grace has been noticing that you’ve been… sad lately. I just wanted to see if everything’s okay.

Weston is puzzled. 

Weston: I appreciate you checking up on me, Mol, but it isn’t your problem to worry about. I’m fine.

Ouch. Mollie nervously traces the rim of the coffee mug with her finger.

Weston: *sighs* This case, wrapping it up has been a pain. This job gets tougher as the years pass.

Mollie: Why don’t you considering quitting?

Weston: It hasn’t been twenty years yet. I’ll forfeit my pension if I don’t work for another 5 years. I can’t do that to Grace.

Grace. Mollie is still surprised that even though their daughter is all grown up and in college, Weston still makes his moves according to Grace. He’ll do whatever it takes to provide for his daughter.

Mollie: But, if it’s taking a toll on you, why not reconsider?

Weston: I just can’t do that to her, Mol. I didn’t do it all these years just so I could just quit when I got tired. It’s hard, but I’m okay. I do it for her.

Mollie suddenly looks sullen. She seems regretful that she couldn’t do the same for Grace. Weston takes notice of it.

Weston: You’re here now, Mol. That’s all that matters.

Mollie: How do you manage to do that all the time?

Weston: Do what?

Mollie: Know what I’m thinking, how I’m feeling. You just always know, even after all these years.

Weston: You don’t lose that ability for the people you care deeply about. We’ve known each other for over 20 years.

Mollie: *sullen* I left for 17 of them though.

Weston turns his body and faces Mollie.

Weston: It doesn’t matter. We’ve known each other since we were 17.

Mollie stares at Weston’s face and studies it; he’s definitely aged since the last time they were ever this close, but his face still looks the same: his light freckles on his cheeks, the laugh lines that have always been there…

Mollie: Yeah…

Weston: Which brings me to my next point; you didn’t come here to check up on me.

Mollie: And what’s makes you think that?

Weston: It’s 11 at night, you live on the other side of the city, and a simple phone call would’ve been a better alternative. *raises an eyebrow* What’s going on, Mol?

They both stared at each other intently, not making a move, not saying anything. Just a moment to admire the closeness they are in now. 

Mollie: *nervously* I hate that you know me so fucking well.

Weston: We wouldn’t have worked if I didn’t.

Weston stops Mollie before she says something.

Weston: And no, our separation doesn’t mean we didn’t work, so don’t even think that.

Mollie: *shocked* You amaze me, Weston Ashmore.

Weston laughs and takes a sip of his coffee on the coffee table. When he puts it back down, he’s waiting for Mollie to speak. She takes a deep breath.

Mollie: Remember that night in your mom’s place? We sat on the sofa, same positions we’re sitting in now, you told me I didn’t need to pretend with you?

Weston: *recalls* I remember telling you that a lot at the beginning of our relationship, so yeah.

Mollie: Well, that was the first time you told me that. And ever since I promised myself to always be honest with you, despite it sometimes hurting you in the process.

Mollie takes a deep breath; her voice is shaky.

Weston: What’s going on, Mol? You know you can tell me anything.

Mollie studies Weston’s face, gathering every moment and every honest feeling that she needs to pour out of herself.

Mollie: I have a pretty good understanding of what your life was like during our time apart. Grace pretty much told me everything. You went to work, took care of Grace, pretty much lived your life as a parent. But, I never told you what life was like for me. Maybe you don’t care, but I feel the need to let you know that it wasn’t all that glamorous.

Weston’s face becomes attentive. He doesn’t budge.

Mollie: The first few months I pretty much lived my life on survival mode. I drank, I partied, I even experimented with drugs. It was just what the tour was like, on top of depression, of course. I went on a few dates, had a couple one night stands but nothing ever came from them. No matter how many people were around me, that claimed they loved me and supported me, I always felt alone. For the next decade, all I thought about was how you were doing and if Grace was happy living her life. Sure, I should’ve reached out and checked upon you, but, I was a coward. I let you believe all these years I didn’t care about you anymore, that I stopped loving you.

Mollie nervously stops talking and looks at Weston, who is officially in deep thought.

Mollie: Weston…

She reaches out for his hand and he snaps out of the thought; he’s now looking at Mollie.

Mollie: *sighs* When you walked into my classroom for Grace’s parent-teacher conference, I was feeling… everything. I was scared that you would take her out of my class after finding out I was her teacher, but it sort of brought me back to when I first met you… when you first came into our class in high-school… it felt like we came full-circle.

Mollie starts to get nervous and gets off from the couch to walk around the living room area. Weston’s eyes follow her body.

Weston: Mol?

Mollie: *turns around* Yeah?

Weston: What are you trying to say?

Mollie just stands there. She’s immediately taken back to the night when they had the biggest fight in their lives. Mollie is yelling at Weston, who is sitting on the sofa with his hands on his head in frustration. Weston gets up from the sofa and walks towards Mollie.

In the present day, Weston gets up from the sofa and walks towards Mollie.

Weston: *softly* Hey.

Mollie snaps out of the thought and looks up at Weston. She instantly calms down. 

Weston: I’m right here. You can tell me.

Mollie continues to look at Weston, and vice versa. The stare does not break.

Mollie: It’s always been you, Weston.

Weston: *confused* Huh?

Mollie: Wes, I’m halfway in my 40’s and I’m tired of waking up by myself in the mornings. I’m tired of wasting my days, regretting not being where I should be, where we should be. *recalls* Alan, the guy I dated for a while after our separation, asked me to marry him. I told him I couldn’t. Despite being in a serious relationship, I was never in love with him like that. You simply just can’t fall in love the way you once did for a second time with a second person.

Mollie looks down at the floor. Weston lifts her chin up with his fingers to look back up at him.

Weston: Say it.

Mollie: I, *inhales* Weston…

Weston: I’m not going anywhere.

Mollie: I- I never stopped loving you, Weston. I’m still so fucking in love with you and I-

Weston takes both of his hands and cups Mollie’s face and slams his lips against hers. It’s the first kiss they’ve shared in 19 years. It’s passionate, it’s yearning, it’s familiar and like nothing has changed. 

The kiss ends and they look at each other. 

Weston: What took you so long, Mol?

Mollie: *confused* Huh?

Weston: I don’t know if it was obvious or not, but I’ve just been waiting for you to come around all this time.

Mollie: You… knew?

Weston: *laughs* I didn’t know, but I always knew that I never stopped loving you and I hoped one day, you felt the same.

Mollie smiles up at Weston. He reciprocates it.

Mollie: *nervously* I- uh, wow, uhm…

Weston: *playfully* There’s no turning back now, Mol.

He places his hand on her cheek and she practically melts in his hand.

Weston: We have 19 years to catch up on.

He kisses her and she kisses him back harder. Time stops practically, and the only two living things are them at that moment. They explore each other, learning their bodies, their spots, the things that make them tick; everything they’ve missed out these last two decades. 

The rain hits harder on the glass of the window.