The following afternoon, the whole crew was gathered in the apartment living room. Mom and Dad included.

Apparently they decided to fly in for Sunday afternoon tea and have an impromptu games night. My apartment felt smaller than usual while we all sat on the floor around a monopoly board.

"How the fuck?" Lucas shouted, leaning against the couch with Mills between his legs. "How the fuck does Mom own most of the board on her first trip around. We all started with the same amount of cash."

Mom, who had her head in Dad's lap while he played with her hair and moved her piece for her, waved her hand in dismissal. "I'm just talented and good with money."

"You're a cheat," Abby said. Flynn was on his stomach beside her.

Everyone was cosy in comfortable clothes and slippers. Not to mention coupled up. It was times like this when the pain was strong. I missed Kyla. "Just admit you took more money during the initial dealing."

"Don't accuse your mother of theft," Dad said, slipping his hand under the rim of his backwards cap and scratching his head. "She gave birth to you. I was there. It was traumatic. Show her some respect."

Abby rubbed her face. "That can't be your go to argument whenever something involves me and Mom."

"It can," Dad said. "You know why?"

"Dad, no—"

"Because you came out of my nut sack. I never half ass a task and that included knocking up your mother. Effort was made. It was tiring but fantastic. We both made a contribution to your existence- your mother more so - but me to. Therefore, we have arguing rights and that's that."

Abby had her fingers in her ears. Flynn was staring at the board as if he was calculating his next move. Milly and Lucas looked unfazed and Mom was giggling.

"Max, roll," Abby passed me the dice.

I took my turn and decided to buy the property. But Mom told Dad to go through her cards and it turned out, she owned the property. "Cough it up," she held her palm out. "You're lucky I hadn't put an apartment on it. Phew that's a lot of cash."

I gaped at her pile of cash when she dropped my two grand on top of it. "Mom. You have so much cash. What the hell?"

"She's cheating!" Abby snapped. "She does this every time."

"I do not," she defended, sitting up. Her hair was standing up all over the place from Dad running his fingers through it. "I'm just business savvy."

"Mom," Lucas waved at the board. "You own so many properties and hardly anyone has landed on them to pay you. But somehow you have a huge cash pile. You're so full of it."

"Ha!" Abby shouted, holding up the property cards. "She didn't even have the property that Max just landed on. It's still in the pile."

"That means Dad is helping her," I pointed an accusatory finger at him and in return he gave me the middle one.

Mom had her hands over her face, her shoulders shook and she silently laughed aside from the occasional snort.

"Dad never helps her cheat," Lucas glared. "What's in it for him."

"Luc—"

"A blow job," Dad stated without hesitation.

Flynn was still staring at the board. He was doing his best to mentally check out of the entire situation and Abby looked as if she was going to strangle someone.

"You had to ask," I pinched the bridge of my nose.

Mom threw her hands up and stared at Dad. "You blew our cover."

"What cover?!" Lucas shouted. "We all knew!"

Milly was filming us. She had her phone in front of her and she was attempting to be subtle but I could tell from the way her finger held down the bottom of the screen.

"I might have blown our cover," Dad announced, giving Mom a kiss on the cheek. "You still gotta blow me though."

"Dad!" Abby shouted.

"What?!" He laughed.

"Guys, you know what he's like. Ignore him," Mom shouted over top of the noise.

And then Lucas let out a strangled battle cry, picked up the corner of the board and tossed it half way across the room. Money, silver pieces and chance cards went everywhere.

Someone always flipped the board. It was tradition and had been since we were kids. It was never out of anger or frustration. It was just a bit of a piss take against people who took the game too seriously and really did flip it out of aggression.

We never planned who would flip the board. But it signalled the end of the game.

Sometimes it happened in the calmest of moments. It would take us all by surprise and it was often Luc who chose to do it when it was quiet.

Abby hated that. It gave her a fright and she'd end up punching him in the arm. And sometimes — like now — it happened when things started getting wild.

"We lasted longer than last time," Mom said, smoothing her hair down. "Fifteen minutes isn't bad."

"When does our flight leave?" Abby asked, laying on her back and staring at the ceiling.

Her hair was pooled around her head, along with Monopoly money, cards and tokens. She was drowning in her sweat pants and hoodie.

I think it might have been Flynn's hoodie.

"At eight," Dad started sweeping the game contents back into the middle of our circle. "California first and then back to Texas."

"What are we having for dinner," Mom helped Dad clean up so I kneeled and joined them, stacking the money into a neat pile. "Max, are you cooking in that cute little kitchen for us?"

"There's not a lot in there," I admitted with a light laugh. "I can go and get something from the store? What does everyone want?"

There were an onslaught of answers all at the same time.

"Grilled cheese!"

"Pizza."

"Your Mom."

"Grilled chicken salad."

"Falafel?"

Collectively, we decided to pretend as if Dad hadn't spoken.

But even without his input, we weren't sure what we were going to eat considering we were all in the mood for something different.

"Let's find a nice restaurant," Mom suggested. "There will be an option for all of us."

"I asked Milly to marry me last night and she said yes."

Five heads - including Milly's - snapped in the direction of Lucas with total and utter disbelief.

Milly turned to us and shook her head. "It wasn't quite like that," she informed while Lucas continued to grin. "I said I would marry him—"

"Are you pregnant?" Abby gasped and looked at her stomach as if it was contagious.

"Don't be a twat," Mills waved her off. "Of course not."

"Not unless they grow over night," Lucas said.

This entire family was a mess.

Milly ignored him and carried on. "Not that it's anyone's business, but I am a firm believer in birth control. Moving on," she sighed. "No I just said that one day, one day we would get married. It was like a pre proposal. Before the proposal."

"Oh thank fuck," Dad relaxed his shoulders. "Not that we wouldn't support you both. But there's no rush. I pre proposed to Mom like four years before we got engaged for real."

Abby sat up and gave Flynn a nudge. "Where's my pre proposal."

He looked sheepish. "We talk about getting married all the time?"

She thought about it for a moment and then shrugged with a girlish grin. "That's true."

Mom must have noticed me watching with a semblance of sadness and envy at the happiness among all of them.

"You okay, Max?" She asked.

"Yeah. Of course. There's a lot of life to live. Out there," I pointed at the window and saw Abby smiling. "Life doesn't begin and end with love, right?"

But that was how I'd felt once. Love was one of those things. Something that offered a light in the dark world.

It was something that was out of our control but it was something that was worth falling into. Diving in head first. Feeling that rush of holding the world in your arms. Seeing a future that's as bright as the stars in their smile.

Showing that special girl just how much she means, giving her your heart, holding a hand to her chest and knowing that the strongest muscle in her body beats that hard for you, it breathes life into your own lungs.

And when it's gone, it feels as though the colour in the sky is dim. The sounds of the world are dull.

Life does begin and end with love and it's obvious they all believe that too.

It was a slow week at work. After Abby's little chat during the weekend, I started to notice just how right she was.

The office gig was boring. Answering the phone was boring. Scribbling a dozen messages for Jordan who couldn't be bothered taking his own phone calls was boring. Scheduling appointments was boring. Contracts were boring. Errands were boring. Ties were boring.

About the only part of the job that wasn't boring was Marnie who never failed to amuse me with her monotone narrative and peculiar complaints.

It made me wonder what encouraged her to remain in the job. She hated it. She hated most things. But still. There had to be something else she wanted to do.

"You should become a barista?"

She glanced up at me from the sofa where she was sitting with her laptop on Saturday evening.

It was the opening for the Delgado art gallery tonight and I was more nervous than I wanted to admit. Which was stupid. No one had clarified it was a date. But it felt like a date.

"A barista?" Marnie narrowed her gaze, her eyes darting from side to side. "Where did that come from?"

"You hate Cramer and Co and you love coffee. Makes sense."

"I love sex too. That doesn't mean I'm going to stand on the corner in a pair of fishnets for one hundred bucks an hour."

I didn't respond. Instead I focused on fastening the dark blue tie in front of the round mirror that hung beside the ranch slider in the living room.

"I mean, I would do that," Marnie continued. "If there was a guarantee I wouldn't have to touch old scrotums or gross sweaty creeps."

"Fair."

The tie was as good as it was going to get. I assessed the pale blue shirt that was tucked into a black pair of slacks.

A thin belt wrapped around my waist and kept it all tucked and tight. I'd rolled the sleeves up due to the fact that it suited me more than sleeves down. Sleeves down aged me.

My hair was tousled with a little bit of product and I picked up the suit jacket that was hanging over the desk chair.

"No jacket," Marnie instructed, peering up from whatever she was working on. She pushed the bridge of her glasses and stared. "Leave the jacket."

"But it might get cold?" I glanced out the window.

The sun was setting but it was still light. We were nearing October and the weather was indecisive.

"Too bad," Marnie drawled, tapping on her keyboard. "It looks hotter without the jacket. Get a little drunk. It'll warm you up."

Marnie could give me those sorts of compliments. There was nothing suggestive about it at all.

She'd once told me she would never sleep with a man that was skinnier and better looking than her.

She claimed it wasn't good for the self esteem. Not that I would refer to myself as better looking than anyone. Ever. Plus, I was younger than her and she saw me like a little brother that she didn't need to filter herself around.

"Alright," I said. "Lock the door on the way out?"

"Mhmm," she murmured and then held out her hand to pause me. "Oh. How else could I phrase 'she fingered herself into oblivion?' I need something smoother."

We stared at each other for a moment. Her expression was as usual, flat. The laptop screen reflected in her glasses and while I couldn't read the words, I could see lots of them.

It seemed that she'd had a burst of inspiration. But there was no part of me that wanted to get involved in the process of whatever she was doing.

So I turned around and headed for the door, giving her a wave over my shoulder. "Good luck with that."

As arranged, the car service was waiting for me downstairs. Mom and Dad were all for romantic gestures - not that I would qualify picking Amalia up from the train as a romantic gesture, more like a polite one - so they had no problem making a couple of calls for me.

They used the same company whenever they travelled. A national franchise with drivers across the states. The driver's name was Arthur and he had a neat trimmed white beard and a large stomach.

He reminded me of Santa in his business suit.

He turned out to be a good distraction during the fifteen minute commute to the train. He wasn't one of those driver's that barred conversation but rather he encouraged it.

I asked him about Mom and Dad, if he'd driven for them before and of course he had. He had a lot to say about them. In a good way. He said their relationship was one of the purest that he'd ever seen and he'd lived a long time.

That discussion rolled into football and how the current season was looking. We talked stats and discussed the newest drafts. I didn't play it anymore but I watched and I kept up with it.

I planned on going to watch Lucas this season. I told Arthur I couldn't wait until he was in the NFL.

The fact that he was so intent on continuing the tradition was a relief. He loved the sport and it took the pressure off me when I decided it wasn't something I wanted to commit to.

The entire chat was a great way to keep my mind occupied until we arrived at the train station and I thought about seeing Amalia. She was so beautiful. Intimidatingly so.

And while I shared looks with Lucas, I did not share his confidence and ability to be so charming. He once subtly flirted his English grade from a D to an A-. It was a special skill and I had not inherited it.

The train platform was bustling with people coming and going. Announcements came over the speakers, informing of incoming and outgoing times and locations.

The stench of cigarettes surrounded me, the tracks rumbled, the sound of cabin doors opened and closed and then I saw her stepping out of the train and there was no chance I could have missed her.

She was wearing a floor length, navy, silk gown that wrapped around her figure and complimented her in the most mesmerising way. The straps were thin. The neckline was loose on her chest and when she turned around - perhaps in search of me - I noticed that the back was low and stopped just above her butt.

Which I was doing my best not to stare at.

I lifted a hand and waved out, all the while giving myself a major pep talk. I can be confident. I can. I can be charming if I want. Fake it, Max. You can do this.

She shuffled through the crowd of people which were aggressively attempting to either get in the train or get off the platform.

I watched her apologise once or twice when someone bumped into her and I couldn't help but notice how people stared.

Of course they would, she was too beautiful to be real. Like a cover model had stepped off the pages of a photoshopped spread. But she was real and she was standing in front of me with dark cheeks and a sheepish smile.

"This is so embarrassing. I'm so over dressed," she peered around. "People are staring."

"They're staring because you're literally the most beautiful girl that they've ever seen."

She snapped her head up and met me with her lips parted and her eyes wide. My heart was thumping. I'd said it.

I said what I thought and I'd said it without stuttering.

But I could feel that niggling of guilt. I'd once said Kyla was the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen. I still thought she was. Could I feel that about two girls? Was that wrong? Moving on was harder than I thought it was going to be.

"Thank you," she said. "You look really nice. We coordinated."

I glanced down at the blue tie and smiled. "I don't wear a lot of blue. But I must have known."

We started back towards the car which was wedged in among a couple of cabs. Amalia stepped aside for a man on his phone, he wasn't watching where he was going and bumped her hard enough that she almost stumbled over.

So I gripped her hand and felt my heart fly into my throat. She was electric.

"Thank you," she told me and to my surprise, she kept hold of my hand until we were sliding into the back seat of the car.

So far I'd kept cool and I was fairly certain that all of the dizzying, disconcerting reaction was happening on the inside.

But still, her smile almost knocked me over as she settled into the cool leather seats and greeted the driver. She turned to me and raised her brows. "Excited?"

I nodded. "Very."