Sometimes you meet someone, it's so clear that the two of you, on some levels belong together. As lovers or as friends, as family or as something entirely different. You just work, whether you understand one another, you're in love or you're partners in crime. You meet these people throughout your life, out of nowhere, under the strangest circumstances, and they help you feel alive. I don't know if that makes me believe in coincidence, or fate, or sheer blind luck, but it definitely makes me believe in something.

Chapter Nineteen: Breakups and Memories.

Daniel was restless when he returned to the house. He had a shower, turned on the television, stared at a pointless reality show, turned it off again. His body was tired, but his mind kept circling, thinking about the conversation he had with Abby, his work, the myraid things that needed to be done in the remaining days that he was going to stay in town.

He hadn't wanted to stay in his parents house during his stay but when he learnt that they were going on holiday and leaving the house vacant, he'd decided otherwise.

Plus there was something vaguely pathetic about a grown man who's divorced returning home to sleep in his childhood bedroom.

But since he was staying longer, it made sense to use the house. He'd dailed his mother's cell and was put straight through to voice mail. He'd left a message telling her his plans, then he dragged out his laptop and plugged into the house's complex broadband.

His phone vibrated and he picked it up to see a message from Char.

Char: I never got to thank you for your help yesterday... so thank you. But you can go eat shit for leaving me here to deal with mom alone.

He read the message and laughed. Char was something else.

Charlee.

He shook his head, and as he logged in he saw there was an e-mail from Tom Calhoun, a family law specialist. Daniel had approached him to handle the divorced a few months ago, and as far as he knew things were well in hand. He saw from the stamp that Tom's e-mail had arrived after he'd flown down to Kingsmille. He clicked on the icon and sighed in relief as he read the message. Everything was settled. Daniel was now legally divorced and he couldn't be more happy.

Though there were slight problems along the way. Apparently Tom had called Abby's lawyer twice some months ago and had yet to hear back. Tom hadn't wanted to send up a flare yet, but he'd wanted to warn Daniel that in the world of divorce negotiations it usually wasn't a good sign when the opposing counsel stopped returning phone calls.

Daniel leaned back in bed. As far as he was concerned, the divorce couldn't be more clearcut—a fifty-fifty split, straight down the middle. They'd both contributed equally to the mortgage, and there were no children or pets. What more could Abby possibly want? Surely she hadn't wanted to come after his retirement fund?

He rejected the thought as soon as it occurred. While he and Abby weren't inviting each other over for dinner, things weren't acrimonious, either. Even though he knew she valued anything that conferred status—fancy houses, fancier cars—he didn't think she had it in her to be so viciously acquisitive.

After everything, she finally agreed to it. She must be really happy with Mark then. Daniel laughed bitterly. Four years of marriage and it was all gone. The love, the happiness, even the vows. Did she hate him that much? To enjoy seeing him in pain. Did she ever think about him when she was with Mark? Did she ever think about him when she lied? Most of all, did she ever love him?

He switched the light off around midnight. By two he was still staring at the ceiling. Sleep had become a rare commodity in his life in the past year. He was getting used to being awake when most of the world wasn't, but he didn't like it. Nothing like an early hours vigil to make the empty side of the bed seem colder and emptier.

He rolled onto his side. Back in the old days if he'd had trouble sleeping, he would have opened his bedroom window and thrown pebbles—he'd kept a supply in his room for that purpose—at Char's window across the way until she was awake, too. She'd have come to her window, bleary-eyed and cranky, then they would have used the walkie-talkies they'd bought with their allowances to plan tomorrow’s mad scheme until one or the other of them drifted off to sleep.

He smiled. Man, he and Char had done some crazy shit over the years. There was the time they'd made a go-cart out of scrap wood and the wheels from Char's in-line skates. They'd taken it to the steepest street in town, strapped themselves in and pushed off. He'd wound up with a black eye and a chipped tooth and Char had grazed her knees and broken a finger.

Despite the pain at the end of that hair-raising rocket down the hillside, the thing that stood out the most in his mind was the way Char had clutched his arms and whooped with joy as the wind whipped at their faces. She'd been absolutely fearless.

In hindsight, it was a wonder they'd both survived childhood, the way they'd egged each other on.

He picked up his phone and replied to the text.

Daniel: Don't sweat it :))

Daniel: Serves you right for leaving me to do all the work alone.

The smile faded from his face as he thought their relationship now. There was this tension between them and Char wasn't the same. It was like she was stopping herself from being free around him. He didn't know why but what he did know was that she was important to him.

Very.

And he was determined to fix whatever had gone wrong between them.

     ——————————

Short chapter, sorry. It's more of a filler.

Next chapter will be longer, promise.

Until then,

Love,

~Leigh.