This chapter will mainly be filling you in on how their lives run, before we really get into the story. I know this chapter might bore you a bit, but I didn't want you to be confused later in the story.
12 years. 1 hour. 6 Months. 2 days. 3 Months.
Lyla lost her son 12 nearly years ago. When she found him at the concert in the park, she only got to see his beaming childish face for one hour. It had been six months since that day. The state had taken him in custody for legal reasons, and she would be getting him back in 2 days. In three months, she and Louis would be married.
The happy couple had moved in together almost immediately following that night in the park, and Louis had proposed four months later.
Louis had been ecstatic that Lyla had not only accepted his proposal, but also loved him just as fiercely as he had, even after all those years they had spent apart. He had been slightly worried that she may have lost her passion for him, because it seemed she had all but forgotten about him, putting all her energy into finding their son. Though, after meeting August or Even (they weren't sure which he preferred) he had to say that he didn't blame her; he was one hell of a prodigy.
Louis and his brother bought a night club, or rather a pub. Originally, Louis hadn't been so keen on buying the pub, as it looked very run down a dingy, but Marshall had somehow persuaded him otherwise. Not only would they be able to freeform whenever they wanted, but they could help other bands go far. The pub, named The Rush, after August, was now the hot spot for up and coming singer/songwriters, and would have paid the bills for Lyla and Louis in itself. But Louis decided that he should also take up an accounting job, as a fallback as well as extra money for his family. Family.
Lyla was currently cleaning. Again.
When Louis walked in the door, the familiar scent of windex and several other cleaners drifted to his nose. Chuckling, he set down his brief case by the door, and walked to the room they had deemed August's. The room had never been slept in, and was therefore spotless, but he had caught Lyla cleaning in here several times in the last few weeks, and suspected there had been several cases when he hadn't caught her.
She was washing the windows. Again. Louis came up behind her, wrapped his arms around her waist, and kissed the top of her head. "Me love, what're ya doin in here again?" He asked, smiling.
Setting down the cleaning supplies, she turned in his arms, cheeks burning with the shame for being caught again. She mumbled something into he chest that he didn't quite catch, but thought it to be along the lines of her wanting it to be perfect for his arrival.
Squeezing her gently in his arms for reassurance, he whispered, "We could be living on the streets and he would still be just as happy to be with us. Because we are his parents. What's happened in the past doesn't matter, where we are, what we've done, it doesn't matter. It's being loved and accepted that matters to him. The rest will follow in time."
He could feel the tears staining his shirt as she cried sofly into his shirt. Slowly she looked up at him, eyes red, and smiled. "I love you."