I could hear Flash barking before I even opened the door.

My palms were sweating and I was beyond reasonably nervous.

Nick stood beside me looking content that I was doing this.

Mrs. Leighton opened the door. "We don't want-- oh Eva! What are you doing here sweetie?"

She had her leg stretched preventing Flash from running out the door.

I held up the apple pie I made with a small smile. "I thought I'd come visit."

"Of course, come in." This time she smiled opening the door wide for me.

She took the pie from me as I walked in. I quickly bent down to pet Flash. "Hiya boy, you miss me?"

He jumped on his hind legs excited that I was over. He looked at where Nick stood and began barking at him.

"He keeps barking at things, it drives Bill crazy," Mrs. Leighton said.

"Guilty," Nick pipped.

I followed Mrs. Leighton to the kitchen where she placed the pie on the counter.

"I love your apple pies," she said going to grab plates and forks. "Nick was always a fan too. He would crave it at times, but he would never ask you make one even though I told him numerous times that you are far too kind to reject."

I struggled not to chuckle. So Nick's parents thought I was an angel and my father thought Nick was a saint. Neither knew we were horrible to each other.

"Guilty again," Nick said, leaning against the counter. "I'm so mad I can't taste it."

"But he did ask me for the recipe once," I told her. "I refused to give it to him thinking he'd probably burn the house down like that time he forgot the chicken in the oven."

I still remember how Nick stood miserable and embarrassed outside as the firefighters cleared the kitchen.

This made Mrs. Leighton laugh. "Oh yes, that was probably a good idea."

She placed a piece of pie in front of each of us before going to make tea for the both of us.

I heard heavy footsteps make their way to the kitchen. "Honey, have you seen-- oh Eva! What are you doing here?"

"She's here to visit, she brings her apple pie," Mrs. Leighton answered for me.

Mr. Leighton looked excited as he made his way to the counter. Nick shared that same expression some times. He took a fork and dug right into the pie.

"Bill! Use a plate," Mrs. Leighton exclaimed. She looked at me and sighed. "Such a horrible habit, he even passed it down to Nick."

They both fell silent as if remembering him doing so.

Mr. Leighton cleared his voice. "So Eva, you aren't at your mother's this weekend?"

Beauty to being a divorcee child. Every second weekend I spent it at my mom's.

"I haven't gone this month... I've had priorities," I told them. Being with your son's ghost and trying to find his body are on the top of that list.

"Busy with school I'm assuming. It's your last year! You decided what you want to do yet?" Mr. Leighton asked curiously.

"I was thinking something in law enforcement or criminal justice. My mom's husband, Steve, he's been helping me with applications," I told them.

"Look at Eva chasing her Nancy Drew dream," Nick teased me. Ass.

I lifted my cup of tea to my lips, while discreetly lifting my middle finger. Nick burst into laughter. My lips tugged to join him, but I had to stay serious in front of his parents.

"That's amazing Eva," Mrs. Leighton gushed. "You were the only little girl I had ever met that wished to become a detective."

"What can I say? I like solving puzzles and putting bad people away," I said.

"We should have made a murder board in your room, would have made this whole thing more authentic. Real Hollywood like too," Nick added.

I pursed my lips to keep myself from smiling.

Mr. Leighton laughed. "Oh I remember when our trash kept getting spilled and we thought it was Flash and would get mad at him, but you wanted to investigate it believing Flash was innocent."

I groaned, hiding my face in my hands.

"You were only six so it was extra adorable. You would hide in the bushes and wait but your father always made you go inside at night time. You spent three days building a trap with your father's help in your garage and placed it near the garbage can," he continued amused.

"Benefits of having a carpenter as a father," Nick pointed.

"The next morning we found a raccoon. Animal control got rid of it for us, they were so impressed with the trap," Mr. Leighton said.

"Oh honey, do you remember how furious Nick was with the attention Eva had gotten then?" Mrs. Leighton asked.

At age 8, we stopped playing together. Did our bad tension begin that young?

Nick's parents looked lost in thought. My heart ached for them.

"Forgive us for seeming... detached? I guess you could say. It's just been..."

I grabbed a hand of each parent. "No one expects you to act strong or pretend to be okay. I would never judge your heartbreak. I'm just here to help and listen if you want me to."

Mrs. Leighton let out a small sob before standing up to hug me. I squeezed her tight before she turned around and fell into the arms of her husband who held her like he needed her strength too.

Nick held my hand. "Thank you for being here for them."

I shook my head as if to tell him he didn't need to thank me.

I fiddled with my thumbs, giving his parents time to get themselves together. Mrs. Leighton wiped her tears and cleared her throat. "I'd love it if you stayed for dinner."

"Oh I couldn't possibly impose—"

"Please, it'll feel nice to have some sort of normalcy," said Mr. Leighton.

I clamped my mouth. If I said no now I'd sound like a monster. "Of course then. I'd love to stay. Thank you."

I helped them get dinner ready despite them wanting me to rest since I was their guest. I felt at home at the Leighton's. I wasn't going to act like a stranger.

I stayed for dinner and let them talk about Nick as much as they'd liked. It seemed like a way of coping and I did enjoy the stories they had of a Nick. Nick seemed embarrassed at some and pleased with others. This dinner was good for him too.

I helped clean up after dinner, before excusing myself to the washroom. Instead of using the washroom, I stuck up to Nick's room.

I looked around feeling odd. I didn't picture Nick's room this way. I expected it to be messier, for bikini model posters to be on the wall, for a smell of rotting food somewhere. Instead, it was all very average. No posters on the wall, a slight mess, and a lot of metals, trophies and books. He wasn't kidding about liking to read.

"Don't get any weird fantasies now," Nick teased.

I rolled my eyes. "Isn't it supposed to be the other way around?"

"We're not conforming to gender stereotypes," he scoffed. What a tease. I bumped him before going to his desk to where he said his writing work was. I found the journal tucking it into my pants and under my jacket before heading back down.

I thanked the Leighton's for their hospitality and promised I'd return soon before going back to my house.

I quickly ran to my room and threw the journal on my bed. "God, I feel like a dirty thief."

Mr. and Mrs. Leighton welcomed me and I stole from them.

Nick chuckled. "Relax, I'm the true owner. I gave you permission. It's not stealing."

I nodded my head, but still felt shaken up. I ran my hand down the leather cover of the journal before opening it.

"Go to the bookmarked page... I mean, if you want to," Nick said, peering over my shoulder. He looked nervous, yet excited at the same time. This meant something to him.

I flipped over to the middle of the journal. I ran my fingers down the page, feeling the dents and bumps of Nick's handwriting.

It's dark in here. It's dark and suffocating. It's like I'm trapped in a coffin, but everyone believes I'm free. I've been here for a long time, I've found myself forgetting what light is. But there's that part of me... that part that still believes in the light. That I might see a glimmer of it one day.

I felt like I was invading his privacy. This was raw. He was hurting when he wrote this. I wanted to reach out to him, comfort him, but Nick had started to speak.

"That light came to me in the form of a voice," Nick seemed to continue. I looked up at him to find him looking at me. "It came to me in a warm touch. Her presence brought more than light into my darkness. She brought colour. It was like seeing the first flower after a harsh winter. She opened the coffin. She showed me the strength I needed to climb out of my own darkness."

I was at a loss for words. I could feel tears prickling the corner of my eyes threatening to fall.

Nick took my hand and placed a kiss on my palm. "You've brought colour to my world. You're my light."

A traitorous tear did fall. "You're right. You are a talented writer."

Nick chuckled before wrapping an arm around me. I lay against Nick, his arms around me as we read through his journal. He was talented. His work was raw, exciting, funny, creative...

"You would have gotten into that writing program," I looked up past my shoulder.

"Really?" He asked. He looked hopeful, yet happy.

"Yeah," I smiled confidently. "You have technique. You're captivating."

He leaned down and captured my lips. I wrapped my hands around his neck as he shifted us so we were both laying down. His journal was quickly forgotten and all I could think about was him. His touch, his lips, his breath. his hands, his skin.

Someone knocked on my door breaking our heated moment. "Hey kiddo, mind if I come in?"

I looked at Nick who sported a mischievous look. "Don't you even dare."

He only grinned wider. I forced myself out of my bed and took a look in the mirror. Jeez, I was flushed and my hair looked messy. I ran a hand through my hair and straightened my clothes. "Yeah, come in!"

He opened it and smiled. "How was your visit to the Leighton's?"

"Good," I smiled, reality crashing back. "I just feel so horrible. They're still in so much pain."

My father looked ashen. "It's horrible. I just can't imagine— if anything happened to you I would just—"

He cleared his throat looking like he was a moment away from crying.

I hugged my dad tightly. "I love you dad. You know that, right?"

He kissed the top of my head. "I know kiddo. You're my whole world. I'm sorry I'm working a lot. We barely have time together. I want to be there for you, but I want to give you the world. I'm trying my best."

I've had plenty of meals alone. I've been riding bikes, buses and walking independently for a while. But I see his hard work. I see him put long straining hours so he could put food in my belly and a roof over my head. He's always there when I need a hug, when I need advice, when I need a laugh.

Tears stung my eyes. "I know dad. You're an amazing father. I don't brush off your hard work for neglect. You're always there when I need you. You do it all. You're so strong. You're my hero."

"Jeez kiddo, how are you going to make an old man cry," he sniffled.

I let out a chocked laugh.

"Hey, how about we put on a movie? I'll make us a big bowl of popcorn," he suggested.

I nodded. "Sounds fun."

We head downstairs with Nick in tow. I picked a movie by the time my father sat down to my left with the bowl of popcorn. Nick sat on my right. Although not as devious as he wanted to be, Nick only held my hand throughout the movie, but it was perfect.

I had my own perfect family.

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