The next morning, Enjolras wakes with the same feeling of emptiness in his chest as when he'd fallen asleep. It doesn't take him long to name it; it isn't sorrow or grief, but just the feeling of loss. Lost opportunities, lost experiences, and a lost relationship. He tells himself that it could be worse. It could have been his mom, which would have been a real tragedy considering their recently rekindled relationship. It could have been any of his friends, which would be beyond devastating. It could have been Eponine, or the baby, which is just unthinkable. So, really, he is lucky. It's just his dad, the most disposable of all the people in his life. He knows that's a horrible thing to think, but it is the truth.

They both wake up early and prepare to go to his childhood home to help his mom. There will be a funeral to plan, rooms to clean out (though maybe it's still early for that), and relatives to greet. In other words, days of torture.

Eponine seems to know what he's thinking and eyes him in the bathroom mirror as he brushes his teeth. "I know it won't be easy, but you need to remember to smile today. Try and at least act like you're happy to see your family."

He sighs and nods shortly. "And act appropriately devastated at the same time, I guess," he adds after he rinses out his mouth.

Eponine shrugs. "I don't know. Don't lay that on too thick or they'll know you're lying. Your mom will, at least. She's under no illusions about how you feel about your dad."

A thought suddenly occurs to him. "Do you think he had a will?"

"He was a lawyer; I'm sure there's one."

"You're probably right. I hope he set my mom up to live comfortably; she's never worked a day in her life." Enjolras rolls his eyes at this. "I know that's ridiculous, but I doubt it's something she could get used to doing at fifty-five years old."

"I can't even comprehend that," Eponine says quietly, and grabs her hair straightener. She's clearly putting in extra effort to look nice today.

"I know. Basically, I just hope we don't find a mountain of unexpected debt."

"That would be nice."

He kisses her cheek quickly and leaves the bathroom to go put a few Poptarts in the toaster, pouring himself his usual cup of black coffee. They eat a quick breakfast and leave the house, and the closer they get to Third Street in the Garden District, where he grew up, the more fidgety Eponine gets.

"You okay?"

"Yeah...every time we come here, I just get nervous. Your house is just...I mean, Jesus. It's enormous. It's practically a palace."

"It's not my house," Enjolras reminds her. "It's just where I grew up. It's an enormous waste of space, is what it is. No one needs that much space or that many rooms."

"It's still beautiful, though," Eponine says as they pull up in front of the house. It is incredibly beautiful, Enjolras has to admit, with a tall iron fence encircling the whole property, which sits on the corner of Third and Coliseum in the Garden District. It's one of the biggest houses in the neighborhood, though they are all enormous antebellum mansions. The Enjolras house, however, has the honor of also having a huge lot and yard, which is fairly unusual in the city. The front is in the popular Greek revival style of the time it was built, but there are the familiar iron balconies of the Quarter on each side of the house. He doesn't even know how many bedrooms there are inside – too many to count, certainly, and way too many for any practical use. Most of the house is shut up, considering only his parents live there. Well, just his mother now...certainly, he'll be able to convince her to move? There's way too much space for just one person.

He enters the gate code to the security system and they go up the front walk, his hand resting low on Eponine's back to guide her. He rings the doorbell somewhat formally since he hasn't really felt welcome here in years and his aunt, Georgia, answers the door.

"Gabriel! Oh, it's so good to see you!" She immediately envelops him in a hug and he winces, awkwardly patting her back. "I do wish it was for a happier occasion, though. You look wonderful! So handsome."

"Thanks, Aunt Georgia...this is my wife, Eponine."

His aunt gasps as she pulls away and moves to Eponine, giving her a quick hug before immediately putting both of her hands on Eponine's belly. Eponine's jaw tightens in annoyance at being touched without permission, but she plasters a smile on.

"It's so nice to finally meet you, Eponine! You'd think we live three hundred miles away instead of in the same city, considering we've never met before! But you two, with that small wedding, not letting us celebrate! Shame on you!" She turns to glare at him, but quickly smiles again and looks back at Eponine. "And just look at you, honey! Oh, you're about ready to pop, aren't you? Look at that belly!"

Eponine laughs uneasily. "Well, not really. She's not due until the middle of June."

"Really?" Aunt Georgia looks at her incredulously, and Enjolras quickly takes Eponine's hand and leads her inside.

"How's my mom?" He changes the subject before Eponine can throw a punch at basically being called fat, and she squeezes his hand gratefully.

"She's doing well, all things considered," his aunt says thoughtfully. "You two go on into the living room, and I'll tell her you're here."

Enjolras leads Eponine through the foyer and into the formal living room, which is filled with antiques and expensive paintings. Eponine eyes everything disdainfully. "If you sold everything in this room, it would feed my students and their families for weeks. That's absolutely shameful."

Enjolras nods in agreement and sits down on the sofa, still holding on to her hand. His palms are sweaty, a side effect of just being back in this house that holds so many unpleasant memories for him. As beautiful as it is, he never felt anything but cold here.

After a few minutes, his mother enters the room, and for the first time in his life, he sees her looking less than perfect. There are dark circles under her eyes, and though her hair is combed and clean, it is pulled back into a simple pony-tail instead of her usual curls or elegant up-do. She wears no make-up, and he finally sees her age on her face. Of course, though, there are no streaks of gray in her light brown hair. She would never allow that to happen.

He rises and hugs her silently, not really knowing what to say. She hugs Eponine next and kisses her cheek, smiling at her warmly. "Thank you for coming, Eponine. I know it's a hassle in these last few months to even leave the house if you don't have to."

"It's no trouble, Anne-Marie, I still feel great. I'm so sorry for your loss."

Tears unexpectedly appear in his mother's eyes and Enjolras looks away awkwardly. Honestly, he didn't even know whether or not his mom loved his dad. They didn't really interact much when he was growing up.

"Thank you." She sits on the sofa across from them and rests her chin in her hand, looking closely at Enjolras. "How are you, Gabriel?"

He shrugs and clears his throat, about to lie and say he's fine. What comes out instead is, "I don't know."

His mother nods with understanding and looks out the window. "I can't believe this happened. He's never had a health problem in his life. How quickly things can change..."

"And it was a heart attack?"

His mother looks back at him and nods. "Yes – a massive one, the doctor said. He didn't suffer. The doctor said even if I had been standing next to him and able to immediately call 911, he probably couldn't have been saved. So, that's a comfort, I guess."

"What do you need help with?" Eponine asks softly. "We're here to do whatever you need us to."

"Oh, dear, thank you. I appreciate that, I really do. But you two have enough on your plates right now getting ready for that baby. We already called and arranged the funeral this morning – it's the day after tomorrow. I really just want you to be there."

"Of course," Eponine answers for him. "Are you sure we can't do anything else?"

"Well..." Enjolras meets his mom's eyes and knows a request for him is coming. "I could go through his study myself, but I really have no idea what is and isn't important. I know he kept a lot of his work there. Since you're familiar with that kind of thing, Gabriel, can you maybe take it upon yourself to clean out his office? Just of the paperwork and whatnot. I can take care of everything else."

"Sure." It won't be that bad, just old case files and impersonal notes. He can handle that. "Mom, what are you going to do with this house?" he asks curiously.

She smiles and leans back against the couch. "Well...funny you should ask that. I can't sell it because it doesn't belong to me. It never has."

"What do you mean?"

"A few years ago, your father and I decided that upon his death, this house would go straight to you. It's much too big for just one person to live in, and I don't want to be here without your father. I'll find a nice condo that I can manage on my own."

He sees Eponine's mouth fall open. He feels a bit shocked himself. "Uh...so this house is ours?"

His mother nods and sighs wistfully. "Yes. I'll miss it, but it's much more suited to your needs now. And it will be a wonderful place to fill with lots of babies."

Eponine snaps her mouth shut and Enjolras can see how uneasy she is. He doesn't know what to think. They talk for a few more minutes and eventually his Aunt Georgia comes back into the room. They have an early lunch, but since there's really not much else for them to do to help, head back home in the afternoon.

Eponine is silent as they pull away from the curb, looking out the window at the house. Enjolras glances at her. "What do you think?"

"I don't want to live there," she says bluntly. "That place...that kind of opulence and waste, that's just not me. I can't live somewhere like that. We could have ten kids and still have more than enough space and that's just ridiculous."

Enjolras sighs in relief and reaches over to squeeze her leg in reassurance. "Good. I was hoping you'd say that. I'd rather live anywhere but in that house. It may be beautiful, but it holds nothing but bad memories for me. And you're right – it's way too wasteful."

Eponine smiles and leans over the console to kiss his cheek. "And that's why I love you."

"We could sell it, though."

"Yeah...maybe we'd have enough to start a college fund for her." Eponine rubs her belly and Enjolras smiles slowly. She's so totally clueless.

"Ep...if we sell that house, we'd have enough to send her to college, plus those ten other kids. And buy another house of our own. We've already got a huge down payment saved, anyway, I've been putting money away for that for years. I'm not exactly making chump change at work, you know."

Eponine turns to look at him, her eyes wide. "Seriously?"

Enjolras nods. "That's a multi-million dollar house, Eponine. All of those are, in the Garden District. And that house has an enormous lot and a huge pool. I can't say exactly how much, but I'm sure it's worth way over two million."

"Holy shit!"

Enjolras pulls into their driveway and unbuckles his seatbelt, turning in his seat to face her. "I was going to bring it up in a few months once we settled in with the baby and everything, but there's no reason to wait now. Do you want to buy a house?"

Eponine looks at him for a moment and then suddenly bursts into tears, covering her face with her hands.

"Uh...was that the wrong thing to ask? I'm sorry! We don't have to..." He gets out of the car and goes around to her side, opening her door and helping her out of the car. He wraps his arms around her shoulders and kisses her temple. "Are you alright?"

"Yes! Oh my God, Enj...I just...I've never had a home. This is home, but at the same time it's not because we've just been renting it, but it's the closest I've ever had. I don't know why I didn't think or realize that we could actually buy something." She wipes her eyes and laughs at herself. "I'm sorry. Hormones. I feel crazy. I don't cry."

"Apparently you do now," Enjolras points out, and takes her hand before leading her into the house.

"Do you think your mom will be mad if we sell the house?"

"Probably," he answers honestly. "But she's not us, and we need to do what's best for our family."

Eponine smiles slowly and hugs her stomach. "We have a family. Oh my God, what's next, a dog?"

"I draw the line at pets."

The viewing and funeral is torture. Enjolras pretends to be sad for all of the friends and family that show up (and damn, there are a lot of them), and forces himself to make suitable small talk. The women in his family have taken Eponine under their wing, but she doesn't exactly seem happy about it. Random strangers keep touching her stomach and saying how wonderful she looks, and then asking all sorts of personal questions about how often she has to pee, or whether or not she's craving this or that, or sleeping in this position at night. He keeps sending her encouraging smiles from across the room, but he can tell she'd like nothing more than to get the hell out of there.

During the actual funeral, she sits next to him and he grips her hand tightly. Not for the first time, an unexpected sadness rises in his chest, but Enjolras firmly ignores it and looks anywhere but at the open coffin. There's no reason to be sad.

His dad is buried in Lafayette Cemetery, only a few blocks away from their home in the Garden District. The ground is uneven from the roots of huge oak trees pushing up the sidewalk, and he keeps a firm hold on Eponine as they walk behind the procession to keep her from tripping. "It's really hard to walk on this sidewalk when you can't see your effing feet," she whispers, and Enjolras stifles a laugh.

"I can imagine."

They don't linger too long at the cemetery, and soon everyone is back at his mom's house. There is enough food laid out on the buffet in the formal dining room to feed an army and relatives, friends, and co-workers of his dad's crowd in. It is a typical Southern funeral – no one stays sad for very long, even though the circumstances of his dad's passing were sudden and tragic. Enjolras stays close to Eponine, not wanting to leave her alone to deal with his over-bearing aunts, great-aunts, and cousins by herself. He fixes them both plates and sits at the table next to Eponine and his mom. One of his aunts wastes no time.

"It's such a shame, Gabriel, that your dad won't be around to give you parenting advice! Or meet his granddaughter."

Enjolras makes some sort of strangled noise he hopes they take for agreement and bites back a sarcastic comment.

"Are your parents excited, Eponine?" Aunt Georgia asks.

Eponine glances at him and says slowly, "No...I'm not really in touch with my parents. As far as I know, they don't know about the baby."

Aunt Georgia looks shocked. "What?! That's awful! Oh, you poor thing!"

Eponine quickly shakes her head. "Oh, no. No, no, no. We're better off without them, believe me."

Enjolras nods in agreement and tries to change the subject. "So when are you guys heading home?" He directs the question to his Aunt Elaine, who lives in Texas.

"Oh, probably the day after tomorrow." She immediately turns to Eponine and asks, "So, dear, what hospital are you going to have her at? I really hope you don't say Touro. They were awful when my daughter had her baby."

Enjolras feels a headache coming on and sighs, rubbing his forehead. He hates being grilled like this.

"Well, actually, I'm going to have her at home," Eponine says with a forced brightness.

Several heads turn to look at her like she's absolutely crazy.

"Eponine, why in the world would you ever want to do that?!" Aunt Georgia asks. "It's not the year 1900 anymore!"

Enjolras jumps in and says firmly, "We've thought about it a lot and done quite a bit of research. We think this is the best option for us." He hopes that will end the conversation, but no such luck.

"But...can you get an epidural at home?" His cousin, Lauren, asks. "That epidural saved my life with my two!"

"No, I'm going to have her naturally. I think giving birth should be special, and I don't want to be on a time limit. I don't want any drugs to speed things up or anything like that. I've never liked hospitals, anyway, and I do a lot of yoga, so I guess it's time to put some of those deep breathing exercises to use."

Everyone is looking at Eponine like she's grown two heads and Enjolras is about to snap when his mother says quietly, "Oh, honestly, all of you. I think it's commendable. People these days rely too much on technology and medication and forget that women were giving birth naturally for thousands of years. Unless there's a serious risk, I think it's a wonderful thing to do. And it's perfectly safe; do some research before you criticize their decision."

Enjolras is shocked. "Wow. Thanks, mom."

Eponine gives her a grateful and genuine smile. "Thank you, Anne Marie. I know it's going to be hard, but I think it's the best thing for both me and the baby."

"Well...to each his own, I suppose," Aunt Georgia says slowly. "Maybe we're all just jealous that you're braver than us!"

Enjolras smiles a bit smugly and reaches over to rub Eponine's shoulders. "She is brave. You have no idea."

"Are you excited to become a father, Gabriel?"

"Yeah, absolutely. I can't wait to meet her."

"Still, such a shame that your dad won't be around. I'm sure you'll miss him."

If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all, Enjolras thinks, and simply nods. He doesn't want to shock everyone again by admitting his true feelings about his dad.

The next few hours continue in much the same fashion, with everyone screeching his first name too loudly, sharing opinions that he doesn't want to hear, and telling stories about a man that Enjolras feels like he didn't know at all. His dad's co-workers have nothing but nice things to say, about his dad's generosity and willingness to help others, and Enjolras is left with nothing but confusion. He doesn't know that man. The only one Enjolras knows is the guy who shut himself up in his office all the time, missed his high school graduation, and shot down every idea he ever had that differed from his own. He only remembers the typical Southern, conservative Republican who looked absolutely shocked the first time he dared to contradict an opinion at the dinner table, earning him the title of "you God-damn Democrat." Eventually, that extended to, "you're not even a Democrat, you're just a fucking radical." That's the only dad he knows, the one unwilling to even listen to another's opinion, and absolutely unwavering in his own.

Around two o'clock, Eponine starts yawning, and Enjolras uses it as an excuse to get out of there as fast as he can. He promises his mom that he'll come back in a few days to start on his dad's study and they leave.

Eponine looks at him curiously on the drive home. "Are you sad at all? You've seemed so stoic. You always are, but I hope you're not just keeping it all inside."

Enjolras shrugs. "I'm fine. There's nothing I can do about it. And nothing would have changed between us even if he'd lived another thirty years."

"I don't know," Eponine says thoughtfully. "Your mom has really come around. I know your opinion of her has changed. Maybe your dad would have changed, too. Babies tend to bring people together."

"Why are you even talking like this? What's the point?" He goes from calm to angry in about half a second and clutches the steering wheel with more force than necessary. Whoa. Maybe he isn't quite okay, but he's not about to admit it out loud.

"I'm just wondering if you're more upset than you're letting on. I want you to talk about it."

"There's nothing to talk about."

"Maybe there is. I'm on to something here; look at your knuckles. You're gripping that wheel so tight that they're white."

"Eponine, I'm not talking about this. I'm fine. Everything is fine."

"Mmhmm." She doesn't say anything else and turns her head to look out the window. God, he hates it when she does this kind of thing, when she acts as if she knows him so well and as if he's lying to himself. She's so damn smug when she does it, too, and that's why he gets so annoyed. It's not because what she says is correct, like she thinks it is. Not at all.

Two days later, he is back at his mom's house to clean out the study. He breaks it to her gently that he and Eponine don't want to live there, and she takes the news better than he expects. She is sad that the house will no longer be in the family, but resigned. "It's you, Gabriel; I should have known you would want a more modest home."

Still, he feels a little guilty as he closes the study door, and just stands there looking around for several minutes. He's trying to picture himself doing work in this room, but the only thing he sees is his dad behind the massive desk. There's no way he and Eponine can make a home here. It just feels all wrong for them and for the life they're continuing to build together.

With a sigh, Enjolras sits down in his dad's desk chair. He's startled to immediately see several framed photos of himself sitting on top of the desk, one dating all the way back to maybe second or third grade. There's also one from his college graduation, and most surprisingly, a photograph of he and Eponine at their wedding. Tucked into the side of that frame is the small sonogram picture he gave his mom. His father kept their sonogram picture in plain sight on his desk...

Enjolras blinks rapidly, surprised. His dad never seemed like the sentimental type, and the last he checked, they kind of disliked each other. So why in the world does he have his pictures on his desk? He sighs and rubs his eyes. God, emotions. Unless they involve Eponine, he really doesn't know how to deal with them. (And it took him long enough to even process that kind in the first place, too.)

He turns those annoying emotions off and opens up a desk drawer. He has to start somewhere. He's relieved to find that everything is impeccably organized, which doesn't come as a big surprise, and he soon has three piles going in different corners of the room – one pile to go back to his dad's firm, one pile to be recycled, and one pile of personal things for his mom to keep. That is the smallest pile by far. It is a complete surprise, then, when he opens one of the massive cabinets built into the wall and sees boxes and boxes filled with things from his childhood. Every report card he ever got is organized chronologically, along with other schoolwork dating all the way back to kindergarten. There are art projects, alphabet worksheets, and essays all the way up through his senior year of high school. His chest feels tight again and he sits heavily down on the floor, rifling through the box.

The existence of this box and these relics from his childhood is amazing. He even remembers doing some of this work back in elementary school. He takes the whole box and puts it by the door to take home with him. Eponine will probably get a kick out of some of this.

He pulls out his phone and texts her when he looks around the room and realizes that this is taking much, much longer than he thought it would, and at this point, he just wants to stay and finish, even though it's already 5:30 in the evening.

Hey – you alright? I'm nowhere near done, but I just want to finish today. Do you need me?

I'm good here. Stay as long as you need to.

Are you sure? If you need something, call one of the guys. They'll run over there.

Enj, I'm pregnant, not sick. I don't need a babysitter. Everything is good here, take as long as you need.

Okay. I'll grab something to eat here and I'll be home later.

At the mention of food, his stomach rumbles, so Enjolras stands, stretches, and wanders out of the study and into the kitchen. His mom is at the table on her laptop, but looks up when he enters.

"How's it coming?"

"Pretty well. There's a lot more to do, though. I'm just going to stay and get it all done and boxed up tonight."

"Okay. Do you want a sandwich? I can make you one."

Enjolras smiles and opens up the fridge. "You don't have to wait on me, mom."

The fridge snaps shut and Enjolras takes a step back. His mom is now standing next to him, her arms crossed stubbornly. "Nonsense. I never get to do things for you anymore. Sit down."

Enjolras shrugs and takes a seat at the little breakfast table, watching as his mom pulls out her gourmet bakery bread and cheese. Of course. Well, at least it will be a good sandwich.

He clears his throat and says tentatively, "So...I noticed dad had a bunch of pictures of me on his desk. And all of this crap from my childhood saved in a box."

"Of course he did. He was very proud of you. He just wasn't very good at showing it, and you were always so antagonistic towards him that he was afraid of trying to talk to you."

She says it so matter-of-factly. You were always so antagonistic.

"I didn't antagonize him," Enjolras says, affronted. "At least not on purpose."

His mom stops and looks at him, raising her eyebrows. "Yeah. Sure. Not at all."

Enjolras is silent and stubbornly sets his jaw, looking down at the table. His mom puts his sandwich down in front of him in a minute and then sits back down in front of her laptop. "Now don't be mad at me, Gabriel. He did plenty of antagonizing, too. Really, both of you were a lot alike."

"I'm nothing like him," Enjolras insists. "We didn't agree on anything."

"You don't have to have the same point of view to be similar to someone; you're very like your father. You're driven, you're passionate about what you believe in, you feel things deeply but don't always know how to express those feelings, you're stubborn as hell..."

All of that is true, Enjolras knows. And it was true of his dad, as well. So, even as much as he doesn't like to admit it, maybe she's right. Enjolras sighs and runs a hand through his hair. His head is throbbing and he just feels strange, almost blank. He's kind of confused and kind of sad and kind of just exhausted all at once, and suddenly the thought of finishing the study tonight is way too much. He tells his mom he doesn't really want to leave Eponine alone any longer and leaves after he eats his sandwich.

When he opens the front door to his own house, the living room is empty. "Eponine?" he calls. "Where are you?"

"In the kitchen – what are you doing here so early?"

He walks into the kitchen to find her doing dishes at the sink – the lack of a dishwasher in this house really just sucks. He puts his arms around her from behind and rests his chin on her shoulder. He smiles and kisses her neck when he feels a gentle kick from the baby against his palm.

"I decided to finish another day. It was kind of overwhelming."

"Overwhelming as in there was a lot of stuff or overwhelming as in it bothered you to be there?"

"Kind of both," he admits. "He had pictures of me on his desk. And one of us at our wedding, and her sonogram picture. I just...I didn't expect that. I don't know what to think about it."

Eponine reaches for a towel and dries her hands off, then turns so she's facing him. She's studying him thoughtfully. "He was proud of you. And he must have been excited to be a grandpa."

Enjolras nods slowly, feeling an unexpected tightness in his throat and stinging in his eyes. He coughs to cover it up and kisses Eponine's forehead. "I'll finish the dishes. Why don't you go take a bath or watch some mindless TV or something? Stay off your feet for a while."

"Okay." She looks at him knowingly, understanding that he wants to be alone, and leaves the kitchen. Enjolras rolls his sleeves up so they won't get wet, adding some warmer water to the sink before he plunges his hands in. A million thoughts are zooming through his head as he scrubs, and a memory suddenly surfaces. He remembers sitting on the floor of his dad's office, playing underneath the desk and listening to his dad's authoritative voice on the phone with a colleague. He couldn't have been more than four or five years old, and still idolized his father. His dad would always stop working for a few minutes at a time to play with him, though if Enjolras made any noise at all during a phone call, he had to leave the study immediately. The picture of himself on the floor slowly turns into a view of his daughter toddling around her grandfather's desk, and before he even registers what is happening, a strangled sob escapes Enjolras' throat.

He takes a deep breath, trying to get a hold of himself, and is almost calm again when he feels Eponine's hand rubbing a comforting circle on his back. He loses it then, and leans forward, resting his head on his arms on the countertop. Eponine leans against him, but she doesn't say anything, just lets him cry it out.

He finally calms down and turns his head to gaze at Eponine. "I'm sorry."

"Stop it. I was hoping you'd cry about it eventually, Enj. You needed to."

"I know. I just...shit. I know I can't change the past, and now there's nothing I can do about it, but...maybe you're right. Maybe he would have been a better grandfather than he was a dad. And maybe we would have gotten along better for her."

Eponine doesn't say anything, since there's really nothing she can say to make it better, and she knows it. He has to accept it in his own time, on his own terms, and if that means going through the what-ifs and feeling regret about the wasted time and chances for a while, then so be it. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad if he wasn't about to be a dad himself, but he is, and now that he has these feelings for his child, he knows that his dad must have felt something for him, too. He wasn't a heartless man.

Eponine takes his hand and squeezes it gently. "I guess the only thing that matters now is that you do it better."

"What if I don't, Eponine? I'm sure my dad didn't plan on his son disliking him so much, either. What if she hates me, too, someday?"

"You didn't like your dad because you felt like he looked down on you and everything you believe in. He didn't accept you or support you, just tried to make you feel guilty for your decisions. And I know for a fact that you are going to love this baby and any other kids we have no matter what. You'll respect their opinions and love them no matter who they are. You won't push them away if they think differently than you. And that's automatically going to mean you do it better."

He knows she's right. But still, this hole in his chest; he really, really hopes it goes away soon. He doesn't want to live with this regret for the rest of his life.

Good Lord, this chapter turned out to be way longer than intended. It kind of just got away from me.

This whole story is so pointless...

Eh, whatever. ha Hope you enjoyed it anyway. :) Happy Holidays!