March 2013

Louis and Lyla sat awkwardly in the earth tone office of Dr. Analise Flowers who they would see for the next few weeks leading up to Louis leaving for The Connelly Brothers' tour and hopefully after he returned if they needed it. There were large windows letting in light from outside, partially obscured by a surplus of plants sitting on the ledge or on top of the bookshelf or hanging from the ceiling. The furniture and colours were all meant to create a comforting atmosphere. Maybe they worked with other people.

"Lyla and Louis," Dr. Flowers began, "tell me a little about yourselves."

They both glanced at each other, speaking with no words as they were accustomed to do in front of other people, and decided that Louis would begin, "uh, well, Lyla's an instructor at Juilliard and plays with the Philharmonic. I'm the singer and play guitar in a band. We—"

"He writes the songs too," Lyla cut in. "And they're a pretty successful. He likes to downplay how big of a deal it is."

Louis chuckled, "yeah, okay, I write the songs too. We have three kids: August, Ben, and Molly."

The doctor smiled, "how old are your children?"

Lyla fielded this question: "August is seventeen, Ben is almost four, and Molly is fourteen months."

"That's quite a big age gap between August and Ben. What's the story there?"

"Oh, it's a very dramatic story, but basically we were nineteen and twenty-one when we met and conceived August, but then didn't see each other for eleven years. We reconnected, married, and continued our family."

"I'd like to hear a little more," Dr. Flowers urged. "Tell me about the night you met and all that happened up to the birth of Ben." She noticed Lyla glance at the clock and smiled, "don't worry, we've got plenty of time."

Lyla and Louis took turns telling the story they had told a million times before telling what happened in the following years leading up to Ben's birth, including Louis' meeting with his father and their miscarriage.

"It sounds like you've both been through your share of hardships, both alone and together and have managed to make it through together in strength. What brings you here today?"

"To put it simply, we're in a rut and we don't know why," Louis said.

"We love each other, and we work together and do things that we've always done, but we don't feel as close to one another as we did before."

"Louis, do you agree with this?"

"Yeah," he nodded.

"When did you both start feeling this way?"

"Uh," Louis began, looking unsure, "I guess… for me anyway, it was after Molly was born."

"Lyla, is this the same for you?"

She quickly glanced at Louis before looking back at the doctor, "no. It was earlier for me."

Louis tried his best to keep his face neutral until a thought came to him, "it's not because of Sophie, is it?"

Lyla rolled her eyes, "no, but she didn't help."

"Who's Sophie?"

"She's this… woman who has had her eyes on Louis for years. She showed up in Thailand when his band was on tour and was photographed hanging all over him when he was… under the influence."

"Is this Sophie a source of infidelity?"

"No!" Louis responded quickly, "I didn't even know she was there until Lyla sent me the pictures. The woman is disgustin'. I've only ever wanted Lyla."

Lyla shook her head and focused the conversation again, "it was before that anyway. After London."

"What happened in London?"

"The band was touring Europe and had a break," Lyla explained. "I flew out with August, Ben, my nephew, and his mother so that we could visit Louis and his brother. It was a lovely two weeks. We all had a good time. But after I got home, it felt like it didn't happen. That was in August and I didn't see him again until December. In that time, my love didn't fade, but something changed."

"Had your band been on tour before?"

Louis shook his head, "just the east coast and we were home during the week, workin' our day jobs. Nothin' big or overseas. We have another tour comin' up though. Now I'm worried what that's goin' to mean for us."

"It won't mean anything, love," Lyla said, trying to comfort him. "We'll be okay."

"I don't want to just be okay."

"It sounds to me," Dr. Flowers cut in, "that you two are struggling to transition into this new lifestyle where you might be apart for months at a time and don't know how go back to normal once you're back together, which is perfectly fine. You were once away from each other for a long time and got on with your lives. Lyla, from what you told me, it sounds like you snapped back to reality very quickly after you met Louis, but Louis, it sounds like you were stuck in the fantasy for awhile. It makes sense; you're a poet. But when you were apart once and came back together, it was, in a word, magical. When you come back now, it's not magical, it's normal and that's an adjustment you might have to make."

"It's not Louis' fault," Lyla jumped in. "That's not fair."

Dr. Flowers smiled and agreed, "it's no one's fault. It's a transition that we need to work on getting used to. It's clear that you love and care for each other very deeply, but we need to work on strengthening that relationship. You may have a seventeen-year-old son, but you've only truly been together for a handful of years. You may think that you know each other very well, but you haven't been together long enough to know everything, and you've forgotten that."

"Well, if I'm goin' away, isn't that just gonna make it worse? Should I stay?"

"No!" Lyla answered, "you can't do that! We'll figure it out."

"How often do you go out on dates, just the two of you?"

"We haven't been out for a date in a while," Lyla answered.

"Okay, what I'm going to suggest," offered Dr. Flowers, "is once a week, leading up to the tour, you have a date night. You get dressed up, go somewhere you've never been or do something you've never done, or take turns going to places and doing things that only one of you has done, and get to know something about each other. Having that alone time outside of the bedroom and outside of the house is going to bring the two of you closer together. Do you think this is something you could do over the next few weeks?"

"Yes," they both answered.

"So, this week, go out somewhere. Without saying anything to the effect of 'tell me something I don't know about you' and without telling the other person, report back next week in our session, and you'll tell me and each other something new that you learned about the other. You can alternate weeks, deciding where to go. Lyla, you can start this week. Does this sound okay?"

They nodded.

"Alright, then I will see you next week at the same time."

The two left the doctor's office feeling possibly less comfortable than before and walked in silence until they were out of the building.

"What day do you want to go?" Lyla asked.

"We could go tomorrow night. You have a later start on Fridays and Thursday night won't be as busy as Friday or Saturday. Unless we want busy."

"No, Thursday works. What do you want to do?"

"Hey, the doctor said that was up to you."


"I know Dr. Flowers said to dress nice," Lyla said Thursday night when she got home, "but if we dress nice, we'll look like idiots. So, dress like a slob. Or at least in comfortable clothes that are easy to move in."

"Why?" Louis laughed. "What are we doin'?"

"Something we've never done before. At least, I haven't. If you have, that'll be my thing I learn about you and I'll have a lot of questions," she smiled.

After dinner and once the sitter arrived, August being at Anna's house, Lyla and Louis got in the car they called and were driven twenty minutes to their destination. When they pulled up to the large building, Louis laughed, "you're kiddin' right?" She had brought them to a trampoline park. "You realize we're gonna be three times as old as most of the people in there, right?"

Lyla shrugged, "I always wanted to go to one and figured it'd be fun."

"It will be. My back just won't let me move in the mornin'."

She lightly pushed him, "you're in better shape than I am, so watch it."

They entered the building, which had a fair amount of people – mostly preteens – in it, bought their tickets and their special trampolining socks that were suspiciously similar to the ones Ben wore when he started walking, and listened to the safety instructions before being let loose on the park, which had trampolines in every corner and against every wall with some cornered off places for organized games. They walked to an empty corner to start their childish escapades, laughing all the while.

Each taking a square trampoline, they jumped as high as they could until it turned into a contest to see who could jump the highest. Having the height and weight advantage, Louis of course won, but then Lyla, wanting to show off, said, "watch this." She hopped to a longer trampoline, bounced high, and then did a series of sloppy one-hand flips and cartwheels before crash-landing in laughter on the other side.

"Where the hell'd that come from?"

"The school I went to – before Juilliard, I mean – had a gymnastics team that I was a part of for a few years until it started interfering with cello and my dad made me quit. I loved it, but dad didn't. I was pretty good but haven't done any of that in years. I'm going to regret it tomorrow."

Louis laughed and helped her to her feet, "maybe a nice bath for your muscles is due when we get home." He led her back to the square trampolines where they resumed jumping aimlessly, doing basic flips when they got enough air. "When me and Marshall were young kids," Louis shouted over the music as they jumped, taking a breath every fourth word or so, "before mam died still, we'd get in trouble from jumpin' bed to bed and doin' flips in the air. I'm surprised we didn't break our necks."

"You shared a room?"

"Yeah, until da left actually. The stories I could tell…"

"I'm sure all completely appropriate for polite company," Lyla joked.

He laughed breathlessly and had to slow down. "Want to try the foam pit?"

"Only if you promise to fish me out when I get stuck," she said, stopping immediately.

"'Course."

They spent their remaining hour swinging off ropes and jumping as high as they could to land in the foam pit, competing against each other like children would. When their time was up, they stumbled to their locker to get their belongings and some water, and left, still feeling like they were walking on trampolines even on the pavement outside. "Do you want to get something to eat?"

"Yeah, sure, what'd you have in mind?"

"What about that place?" Lyla asked, pointing at a random diner. "Been there?"

Louis grinned, "you know I haven't."

"Let's hope it's good."

It was. The food was greasy and would upset their stomachs a little later, but it was worth it. They sat talking and eating until their remaining fries grew cold, and then they decided it was time to head home via the subway.

"I think I will have that bath," Lyla said as they said goodbye to their babysitter who had put the kids down. "I can already feel my muscles starting to tense up."

"Do you want some help with that?" Louis offered, taking a step closer to her.

She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him, "thank you for the offer, love. I think I'm just going to soak and then head to bed though."

He kissed her back and smiled, "alright, I'm going to hang out down here then. I'll talk to you later." Louis left to the office quickly.

Lyla watched him make his exit, feeling a kernel of guilt. This was part of the problem. Whenever Louis wanted to be intimate, Lyla wasn't in the mood and vice versa. They were so much more out of sync than they used to be. But she wasn't sure sex inspired by guilt was the best way to fix whatever it was they were going through. "Love you," she called after him.

"Love you too," he called back before she climbed the stairs to take her bath.

Feeling a bit dejected, a frustratingly familiar feeling in the last year, he decided to focus his energy on the band, something that had become the norm, especially in the last month with Marshall being MIA. They had been receiving a lot more messages and emails; it was hard to keep up with all of them, but he had a lot of time on his hands being basically unemployed, so enjoyed having something to focus on.

After the thirteenth response he sent off, he heard the front door open and close. "A little late, Aug." It was nearing midnight and the kid had an eight o'clock class next morning. His son slumped down in Lyla's office chair instead of going to his room. "What's goin' on, man?" Louis asked, spinning to face August.

"Me and Anna had another fight," he huffed.

"Another? When'd you have a fight before?"

He shrugged, "we don't get along all of the time."

That was vaguest response Louis could think of but pushed on, "what'd you fight about this time?"

"I don't even know. She was just mad at me and wouldn't tell me why."

Louis chuckled, "usually if they do that, you're not the one they're actually mad at."

"Yeah, but it's annoying. We just spent the night arguing over nothing until I decided to leave. It's ridiculous."

"Yeah, man, I get it. Just give her a day and then ask her about it."

"I don't know. I think I want to break up with her. We fight too much, and I don't think she cares about me as much as she cares about her dancing."

"Well, then meet up, ask her about it, then tell her it's not workin' out."

"That's easy for you to say."

"What do you mean?"

"Uncle Marshall says you've never dumped a girl. Just been the dumpee."

"Of course he did. Well you'll be smarter than your da. Sometimes things aren't meant to last and you gotta call it."

"Isn't it better to work through it? Like you and mom?"

"What do you mean?" Louis repeated.

"I'm not dumb, I know you're going to therapy or whatever."

"You're not supposed to know that. And yeah, sometimes you work at it. But you and Anna are different than me and your mam. We're married for one. Have kids for another. We own a house together. If you and Anna split up, you go about your lives as normal. Me and your mam's life would fall apart completely without each other, and we'd affect so many other people's lives too. We need each other. I don't know, but it doesn't seem like you and Anna are there."

He shrugged, "no, I guess not. But I don't know what I'd even say to her."

"There's no good way to break up with someone. Just say that you don't think it's workin' and that you should both just focus on yourselves with graduation comin' fast. Don't blame her for anythin' and you'll be good."

August seemed unsure, "I guess I'll think about it." He stood and rolled the office chair as far under the desk as it would go. "I'm going to bed. I'll see you in the morning."

Louis stood and gave his son a quick hug before August disappeared towards the basement. Louis shutdown the computer and made his way up to his bedroom. When he walked in, Lyla was naked, rubbing shea butter into her skin. All he could think about was how long it had been since they had last made love and how much he wanted to throw her onto the bed and make her scream. But she pulled her robe on quickly and Louis said he was going to take a quick shower.

When he left the bathroom a little more relaxed than before, Lyla was curled under the covers with her bedside table lamp off. Louis pulled on a pair of sweats and slid in next to her, turning off his light as he did. She shifted close to him and draped her arm over his back, kissing the nape of his neck, "goodnight, love."

He kissed her hand, "goodnight."


"I know your date night was a surprise," Louis said a little after their therapy session, "but I want to check my idea with you first just in case you don't want to do it."

"I'll be okay with anything," Lyla assured him as they walked towards their home.

"Yeah, but… okay, well, I was thinkin' you could show me some of that boxin'." He glanced at her to gauge her reaction, but she gave nothing away. "I know that it was yours and Maya's thing, so I don't want to do it if you don't feel comfortable with it."

Lyla didn't respond immediately. The thought of going to her gym, knowing that Maya would never go with her again, upset her. But she did love boxing and the strength she felt. She could face everyone again if Louis was there and maybe it would help her move forward. "Okay," she said after a lengthy pause, "but there aren't any classes on Thursday. It's just an open gym."

"You could show me what you know. I'm kind of interested in seein' what you can do."

She smiled and agreed, and the next evening, they were on their way to Lyla and Maya's gym. It felt strange going back to the gym. Lyla had been going alone for months as Maya no longer had the energy or desire or capability of movement to continue going, but she always knew they would go back together. She wasn't sure if anyone even knew Maya was dead and prepared herself with having to explain seven hundred times.

Louis and Lyla dropped off their belongings in the changing rooms and then met in the main gym area. Lyla guided her husband to one of the benches and showed him how to wrap his hands to protect his knuckles.

"Lyla!" a man's voice sounded.

Louis looked to the owner to be faced by some Greek God.

"I haven't seen you in a coupe of months. I thought you gave up on us."

"Ray," Lyla said, standing to greet the insanely attractive man, "this is my husband, Louis." They shook hands, "sorry, I've been preoccupied with work and everything."

"Oh, it's no problem. It's good to see you back. Your wife is really good; she'll teach you a lot. Has Maya had her babies yet? It must be that time by now."

"Uh, yeah," Lyla said awkwardly. "Twin boys – Lucas and Tomas."

"Oh, that's great. And they're both healthy? Everyone's good?"

"The twins are good. Healthy. Maya actually…" she cleared her throat. "Maya passed away due to… complications."

Ray's easygoing attitude changed immediately, "I'm so sorry. I didn't know."

"No, I'm sorry, I should've let you know. It was back in January already. It's been tough on the family."

"Of course. No, that's fine. Understandable. I'm really sorry to hear that. I really liked her, and she was very talented. I'm glad to see you back. Please give my best to the family."

Lyla assured him that she would, and he rushed off to some other corner of the gym.

"You alright?" Louis asked.

Lyla sighed, "yeah. I'll have to get used to doing that, I guess." She looked at Louis' sloppily taped hands and smiled, "let me fix that and then we'll get started." She led Louis to one of the punching bags set up, "in boxing, you always have to keep your feet moving. Put this foot," she patted his left shin, "forward and the other back, but stay on the balls of your feet so that you can move more quickly."

Louis did as he was told, "I feel like a lunatic."

Lyla laughed, "you have to get used to it. Now, keep your left hand here," she positioned his arm so that it served as protection for his face, "and focus your right hand on delivering the punch. We'll start with a hook, which is pretty straightforward." She positioned her feet and hands, and quickly delivered the punch to the bag to demonstrate, "you try."

He did. "How's that?"

"It's fine, but you need to bend your right arm a little more. If you deliver it straight like that, it's a cross. With a hook, you're more aiming for the side of the bag." As he stood still, she bent and shaped his body to resemble what she had in mind.

"You ever watch that improv comedy show? Where's the four people and they have to do random shit?"

"I think I know what you're talking about."

"This reminds me of the one where they get someone from the audience to come and move the actors' bodies to fit the scene. You know the one I mean?"

She chuckled, "yeah, I guess that's pretty much what this is." Lyla stood again the way she wanted Louis to stand. "Now when you are punching, make sure the power is coming from your body, not just your arm. Turn your body like this," she slowly twisted her body, "and follow through into the opponent like this." She punched the bag in slow motion, showing Louis how to hold himself, and he followed through in similar fashion. "Excellent, love," she grinned.

They spent the next ninety minutes with Lyla teaching Louis different moves and then combining the different moves and sparring at a very basic level. When they had finished their session and were sufficiently wiped, they gathered their belongings and headed for home.

"You're an amazing woman," he said after walking some time in silence. "You know that, right?"

Lyla felt embarrassment, "why do you say that?"

"You're just so many things and you're so good at all of them. A wife, a mother, a friend, a cellist, a teacher, a boxer, and about five hundred other things on any given day. It's brilliant."

"I'm not a good wife," she murmured. "We wouldn't need therapy if I were."

"What're you talkin' about? Have I ever felt unloved? No. Unhappy? No. Uncared for? No. How can you think you're not a good wife? This thing we're goin' through isn't because you're a bad wife or I'm a bad husband. Dr. Flowers is right that we're just havin' trouble adjustin' to a new way of doin' things."

"But after our date last weekend, when you wanted to… I feel guilty for the amount of times I haven't wanted to. I should want to more."

"Lyla, you're bein' ridiculous. I don't want you to have sex with me because you feel guilty. If you're not in the mood, you're not in the mood. Simple as that. I will survive. And you're not the only one who's said no."

"I'm the one who's saying no the most though."

Louis stopped walking and put his hands on his wife's shoulders so that she was facing him, and he could look into her eyes, "you are the fuckin' love of my life. There's literally nothin' you could do that would change that. We could go the rest of our lives never havin' sex and I would still be yours. Though I'd probably spend a lot more alone time in the shower."

Lyla laughed and rolled her eyes, and they continued walking hand-in-hand. "Maybe we need to force ourselves to be in the mood."

"How's that?"

"Just say something like every Thursday after our date night, we have sex. No matter what. Maybe that will break the funk."

"Won't that just make us feel resentful? I don't want sex to be a chore for either of us."

"I don't know," she sighed. "I just want us to be like we were."

"Do you remember what it felt like? The first night we were together?"

She smiled, "it was the happiest I could ever remember myself being up to that point. I remember waking up and feeling like my whole world had changed."

"I remember the spark. I felt connected to you immediately when we kissed, but it was your fingers on my cheek and on my skin that sent fire everywhere. I remember thinkin' how soft your skin was. And how smooth. And I remember thinkin' how much I liked your hands in my hair, your fingernails scratchin' my scalp. I remember the sound you made when I was inside you for the first time; it was just the way you inhaled. I remember thinkin' how good it felt to be in that position with someone like you who I felt so connected to. We were stupid shits for not usin' a condom, but I remember just thinkin' that you were it. Life would only get worse without you in it."

"You knew that in just a single moment?"

"'Course I did. And I've known that every moment since."

She kissed his hand, "do you want me now?"

"I always want you," he whispered in her ear.

"I mean—"

"I know what you mean," he interrupted. "Yes, I do."

They were in a fairly busy area. Lyla paused and scanned the vicinity until she saw a busy restaurant-bar. "Come with me," she demanded, dragging him along behind her. She led them into the building and scanned the busy bar for a sign indicating where the washrooms were. Across the room, she spotted the tacky neon sign and headed straight for the men's washroom. "Check that it's clear," she whispered, and Louis disappeared to check that no one was within before reappearing a moment later and pulling her in. They headed straight for a stall in the corner of the small bathroom and locked the door behind them.

Louis nuzzled Lyla's neck, kissing her soft skin as she pushed down her leggings. He groped her exposed skin, marvelling at how simultaneously firm and supple her body was. Lyla leaned against the door with her legs as far apart as her leggings would allow, urging Louis to take her, which he did eagerly.

She inhaled sharply once she felt him inside her. He wrapped his one hand around her waist and worked his fingers between her thighs while he buried himself vigorously inside of her. Lyla moaned and leaned her forehead against the door, focusing on the pleasure radiating from Louis to every corner of her body.

It was quick and messy and not particularly romantic, but it was something that they both needed. Lyla came first, and Louis followed shortly after; they stood still for a moment, breathing heavily until Louis kissed her neck again and pulled away. "Think we needed that," he said, cleaning himself up.

Lyla chuckled, "agreed. Let me clean up. Go keep watch."

They kissed before he took their bags to the sinks to wash up.

"Can you check if anyone's coming down the hall before I come out?" Lyla asked with her hand on the lock.

"I'm leavin' your bag on the counter," he informed her before poking his head out of the bathroom door. Not seeing anyone, he called back, "coast is clear."

"Okay, stand guard, soldier," she joked.

For a place that was as packed as the bar was, not a lot of people were using the bathrooms. A couple of women paid no attention to him as they used the ladies', but Lyla appeared before any men tried to use the men's. She took hold of his arm and they walked towards the exit to continue their journey home, but they were stopped by a couple of drunk fans of The Connelly Brothers.

"Hey, you're Louis Connelly!" one guy said as another took pictures.

Louis pushed the phone out of his face, "yeah, thanks for the support," he said non-committedly.

"Is this your wife?" the guy continued. "You have fun tonight?"

"Right," Louis said, a bit irritated, "I'm not famous enough to have you houndin' me. I'm out with my wife. I'll see you guys later."

"Fucking dick."

"You're the dick," Lyla returned. "Don't be a jerk."

"Lyla, don't," Louis sighed, pushing her towards and out the door.

"What an asshat," Lyla complained when they were out and walking towards the subway.

"Asshat?" Louis laughed, "I don't think I've ever heard you call someone an asshat before."

She elbowed him playfully, "I only reserve it for special occasions."

"Yeah, well don't rise to the bait of guys like that. 'Specially when they're drunk."

"I can't even imagine how people who are super famous deal with that on a daily basis."

"Well, hopefully we won't ever find out."

They arrived home close to ten to a household full of sleeping children and paid the babysitter before retiring to their room.

"Thanks for showin' me all that tonight," Louis said from the shower as Lyla got ready for bed. "It's really cool to see what you can do. You're amazin'."

"It was a good idea," she replied after spitting out a mouthful of toothpaste into the sink. "It was nice to get back in and wasn't as bad as I thought it would be without Maya. Though it still doesn't feel right."

"It's kinda funny you guys were so close, don't you think?"

"Yeah, I never expected it. She was so good to have though. It makes me so sad to know she's gone. Just like that."

Louis turned off the shower and Lyla handed him a towel. "She was a pretty big part of our lives. I get it." He kissed her cheek as she continued to brush her teeth, "I'll see you in a bit." After drying off completely, he hung up his towel and crawled under the covers to wait for his wife.


"How are you feeling about being away for a few months?" Dr. Flowers asked Louis in their last session before his tour started.

"Real uneasy," he admitted. "I don't want us to grow distant or anythin'."

"We won't," Lyla assured him. "We'll talk like we did on your last tour."

"I don't know if that'll help," he worried. "It didn't last time."

"Well, we have to work consciously at it. I don't know."

"It's okay to be worried," Dr. Flowers cut in. "The truth is: we won't know how you feel until Louis is back, and your lives continue on as normal. But based on what you've told me, I'd say that maybe all you really need to do is try different things. You're a couple that thrives on uncertainty and excitement, so maybe you need to make it a point of trying new things when you're back together on breaks and after the tour. Most couples that come to me argue frequently and struggle to find common ground. All I see from you two is love and passion that's a little bit out of sync. You're not a couple in trouble; I think you just need to be more adventurous with each other."

"You know that after three sessions?" Lyla asked skeptically.

"I think there are some things that you need therapy for – feeling comfortable enough with one another to try new things, both in the bedroom and out of it, and growing as a couple rather than just parents – but I don't think we need to see each other weekly. I recommend monthly sessions once Louis gets back so that you have a safe place to talk and develop. There are plenty of couples like yourselves who don't have problems that are going to end their relationship but still participate in therapy to ensure their relationship remains this way. I'll leave it up to you but think about it."

As always, Lyla and Louis walked silently for the first little bit of their journey back home, mulling over what was said during their sessions, before they spoke.

"Is there anythin' you ever wanted to try durin' sex that we haven't done?"

Lyla felt her face redden, "uh, I don't know."

"Liar," he grinned. "It's funny that she suggested that though because I got you a present for your birthday that'll work well. It'll either piss you off or embarrass the shit out of you."

"Oh God," Lyla said. "Probably both."

On their last official date night before Louis would leave for his tour, Lyla brought them to a kitchen for a cooking class. Louis teased her desire to make edible food while he was gone, and she didn't argue. It would be nice to have some nice-tasting food while her husband was gone – her children would be relieved anyway – but she also thought it'd be nice to learn something new together, she as a beginner and he as a pro. And she knew Louis genuinely enjoyed cooking.

They were learning to make Chinese dumplings, which took a lot more patience than Lyla had for food, and which Louis enjoyed thoroughly.

After her third dumpling tore open upon being cooked, she threw down the tongs she was using, "I hate this. Worst birthday ever."

"You're the one who wanted to do it in the first place," Louis reminded her, trying to stifle a laugh. "Here," he said, taking the perfect dumpling he was working on, "you've gotta work on foldin' the dough right. You're rushin' and missin' parts, which is why it's breakin' open."

"How on Earth have people been making these for hundreds of years when they take so long to cook? Do people not have lives? It's so much effort for such a small payoff!"

He kissed her cheek and smiled, "I love you."

"You're weird." She took a new round section of dough and placed a spoonful of filling in the centre before slowly folding it the way Louis showed her. As she fried it, it stayed together, and she grinned widely. "Only five hundred more to go!"

Soon, they were able to sit and eat their creations. "How d'you like it?" Louis asked.

"They're so good," she replied with her mouth full. "But I'm never making them again."

"I like them. I'll make them at some point."

"Does it annoy you that you do most of the cooking?"

"Nah, love. It's my thing. Like yours is cleanin' up my mess afterwards."

She laughed, "well if that's all I have to do, then I'll take it."

When they got home a little while later, Louis led Lyla to their bedroom for her birthday gift. "So, I know that I'm leavin' next week, so I got you a little somethin' to keep you goin' until I get back."

Lyla didn't like the way he was smirking, "what did you do?"

He coughed but didn't say anything. Instead, he went into their closet and shuffled things around until he brought out a poorly wrapped gift shaped like a shoebox.

She watched him carefully as he tried to hide his smile; there was a bit of a mischievous glint to his eye as she began to unwrap it. When she saw the image on the box, she felt her face flush red, "oh my God, is this…"

"Yup," Louis assured her, "for when you're really missin' me." A grin stretched across his face as she threw a crumbled ball of wrapping paper at him.

"I can't believe you."

"Told you you'd either be pissed or embarrassed. But I was thinkin'… maybe we could use it tonight. Could be the beginnin' of tryin' somethin' new. What d'you think?"

"I think you're out of your mind," she said, shaking her head, "but… you could show me how it works." Lyla put the box aside and crawled over to him, kissing him slowly. But as she pulled his shirt over his head, shouting could be heard from downstairs. They paused and looked at each other before he pulled his shirt back on and the two of them went to check out what was happening.

"You're a fucking coward!" Anna screamed, tears streaming down her face as she pulled her boots on.

"That doesn't even make any sense. You're the one who screwed up!" August replied in a voice that was just as loud.

"Hey!" Louis shout-whispered, "quiet the fuck down before you wake Ben and Mol."

"I was just leaving," Anna replied angrily, pulling on her coat and storming out the front door, leaving it open behind her. Feeling completely out of the loop, Lyla closed and locked the door after her.

"August, what's goin' on?"

"We broke up," he said bitterly, though it was clear there was more to the story.

"August," Lyla urged.

He sighed and went to sit down in the dining room with his parents following close after. "She came over and I was asking her why she's been so mean lately. And I was going to say that I was thinking we should break up, but then she told me that she's been pushing me away because she's pregnant, which was messed up because we always-" He cut himself off, "well then she told me she was with someone else and it was his but she was going to get an abortion and then things would be back to normal. I told her it was over, and she thought I was being ridiculous, and I told her to leave then…" he trailed off with a shrug.

Louis and Lyla exchanged wide-eyed looks that said, 'what do we do?'

"August," Lyla spoke first, "I'm so sorry."

"I'm going to bed," he replied miserably. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Once August had stormed off, Louis whispered, "shit."

"I was not expecting that," Lyla agreed.

"How do we even handle somethin' like this?"

"The poor kid. His first girlfriend being someone like that. I can't even imagine how he must feel."

"I say we give him some time – just let him be – and go about things normal for a couple days. Then one of us can talk to him about it."

Lyla felt like she wanted to smother her son and hug him and comfort him instead, but knew Louis was right. He would just become irritated if they tried talking to him now. She nodded, "okay, but I'm still giving him a big hug in the morning."

"Alright," Louis chuckled. "I'm about ready for bed now though. You?"

They climbed the stairs to their room and got ready for bed, their foray into experimental sex halted for another day.