The house is charming and calm as I am perched in front of the fireplace, my grey journal lying in my lap as I tap my pen on it, my eyes gradually closing while I attempt to articulate the perfect words.

My eyes open as I overhear the all so familiar footsteps of the love of my life, she walks like summer, always pleasant and graceful.

I watch while she makes her way to the kitchen, her grace no longer bringing a grin to my face as I listen to the rustling of plates in the kitchen, the sound of cupboards opening and closing.

I pull myself from my seat on the couch, my hand placing my journal on the glass coffee table in front of me. I take a few strides to the kitchen, her eyes immediately glancing over at me with that beautiful shade I adore.

"How was dinner?" Her voice is like a beautiful melody to my ears, soft-sounding and a flawless inflexion.

I nod with a small smile, proceeding to step closer to her while she leans against the kitchen island.

"It was fine," I inform her, remembering how the potatoes were seasoned to my liking.

"Of course it was." She sighs, shaking her head as she raises her hand to her forehead.

"What?"

"It is always fine." she drops her hand, now looking me dead in the eyes. There is no emotion behind them like there once was. "Everything is always just 'fine,' with us, nothing is ever good anymore." Her voice begins to raise, her tone is thicker as it's laced with anger.

"Emily."

"Stop it, Harry." She cuts me off, her eyes have lost their overflow of anger, now rising with frustrated tears. "Everything is just, wrong. I can't even make dinner for my family that is decent enough for you to tell me it was 'good' anymore." She sounds desperate for appreciation, or some form of recognition.

"Emily," I start again, this time slowly with a more gentle tone. "Dinner was good, but I'm not going to shout it from the rooftops."

Emily is emotionless before me, setting me off as I am unable to read her.

We have been like this for the past six months of our marriage: Unable to communicate, and hotheaded with each other. But although our marriage was at a crossroads, we refused to show this side of us to our young daughter, Sophia.

Our small and childish fights came up at least once a day, on a good day, but recently our bickering has reached an innumerable high. This, sadly, sent both of us off the edge, holding each other's hands so tightly we were white at the knuckles.

The unforeseen future for us holds a divorce, something we both have never anticipated to become a reality.

"Nothing is good for us anymore, Harry." Emily continues, not on another topic of dissatisfaction. "We aren't even sharing a connection anymore, the bed is cold from us sleeping so far apart." She rubs her arms, as someone would when they are trying to provide heat through friction. "You haven't touched me in months, our relationship has gone frigid cold in a matter of weeks. And I'm freezing, Harry."

Her sudden exposure of the need for intimacy between us catches me off guard. She seems embarrassed to speak on the subject but obviously feels the need to bring it to my attention. With the sudden creaking of our wooden staircase, Emily grows quiet and bites her lip, a familiar little voice distracts me from my outraged and puzzled thoughts.

"Daddy?" a faint voice, with a hint of sadness edged between the softness, calls from the dark hallway. I turn around and notice our little girl; her hand clutching her teddy bear, as her lips purse into a firm line and her eyes stare up at me with a hue of a lush field of green.

"Hey, Angel." I clear my throat, unsure of how long she has been listening to Emily and I argue.

"Are you mad?" She says drowsily, my heartbreaking as I begin to realise she has probably been listening from the top of the staircase for quite some time.

"No, sweetie." Emily shakes her head, cutting in and bending down to Sophia's level. She presses her hand delicately to Sophia's arm, "Daddy and I... are... we are just tired. Come on, let's go to bed." Emily whispers sweetly.

Sophia doesn't question her mother's response, instead, she nods and glances towards me with enchantingly glowing eyes.

"Daddy, come with me?" Our little girl questions, batting her sleepy eyes at me. I nod just as Emily caresses Sophia with a few sweet kisses, wishing Sophia a good night sleep before I scoop Sophia up in my arms, her soft giggle echoing melodiously.

Our little girl is like a touch of the grace of healing to my, our, life. Sophia entered our world at an unexpected time for both Emily and me, but neither of us would change that for the world.

I reach the top of the staircase, carefully walking to Sophia's bedroom, her night light radiating enough light for me to guide myself towards her bed. I lay her down, my hands benevolently drawing her covers to cover her little body.

"Mummy and Daddy love you, Angel." I lean down to press a kiss to her forehead, "Sweet dreams." I smile, making sure to tuck her teddy bear in beside her. She grins back at me, hugging her teddy bear closer to her.

Sophia's voice stops me as I turn on my heel to exit her room, "Daddy, can you tell me a story?" she questions softly.

"Sophia."

"Please, Daddy?" She whispers, her voice sounding as though it is more of a plea than a question. I sigh, giving in as I sit on the edge of the bed, "Tell me about you and Mummy." She carefully instructs, wanting a story that is the very reason she is in this world.

"Hmm..." I hum, recalling our dainty tale, "Well, it started many years ago..." I begin, a small smile painting itself across my lips.

❅ ❅ ❅

It was the summer of 2014, which doubles as my downtime. I was granted a week off of performing and travelling from city to city. I quickly decided against staying home in London, which would result in me doing nothing but catching up on television shows and reading a few books; I decided to go to one of the biggest music festivals in California: Coachella.

Whilst I was there, in a large field with a mass spread of people, I managed to slip away from my friends' who accompanied me and my sister, Gemma. They seemed more interested in bouncing around, taking in all there was to see, rather than staying alongside myself as I did so at a much slower pace. Keeping up with them was a struggle within itself.

It was her laugh that struck me like lightening— an instant force of nature that distracted me from the rest of the world. My eyes followed the charming sound, resting themselves on a lady that was so ordinary, yet appealed to me in more ways than one. I took notice of how she was perched beside a friend at the Tiki Bar, her dark hair falling over her shoulder as she continued to giggle. I had never been so curious as to what laid before me, but she intrigued me in ways I could not explain. There were no words to thoroughly express my thoughts at the time.

I wandered closer to the intriguing mystery, standing beside her and politely getting the attention of the bartender, ordering cold water, only to be told there were none left. For a moment I frowned, forgetting that it was a humid afternoon as the sun graced us with its strong rays and that many Coachella-goers were in need of cold water and beer more than anything at this point.

Her voice distracted me from the bartender, my eyes accidentally looking at her as it seemed as though she was speaking to me. She had a proper British accent, one that was soft and sweet, flowing like chocolate from her lips.

"You seem a bit upset." She smirked, seeming amused by my pout and furrowed eyebrows.

Why would she find this sight amusing? I couldn't answer.

"Finding cold drinks around here is pretty hard." I stuttered, unable to find decent words to say to her as I was lost in the shade of her eyes.

Her smile was next to send my heart into an erratic flutter, the way it beamed perfectly and effortlessly was so picturesque.

"Here." She pulled a bottle of water from her bag and pushed it close to me, her delicate smile again growing perfectly. "I'm Emily."

That is how the three-day festival started, an enchanting lady offering me the last bottle of water, and me offering to make it up to her by accompanying her to a performance her friends' did not want to attend.

We spent the next few days together, consistently. Our time together, under the hot California sun enjoying music among thousands of other people, connected us in a way I thought impossible to happen anywhere else. I couldn't ever get tired of her.

At night, when we separated to rest, my anticipation grew with every hour I spent away from her. Throughout my days thereafter meeting the goddess who enchanted my days I am lucky if I allowed myself more than five hours of sleep. The anxiety of seeing her again kept my heart pumping, and my mind rushing as excitement powered me through those hot days.

The last day of the festival can only be described as, hectic. The crowds were crazier than ever, possibly bigger than the days before as the music came to a close, and everyone was there for the same thing. I saw her in the morning, and we enjoyed a small meal together before setting out on our last day. She wore denim shorts accompanied by a crop top and a leather purse. Her hair, was long and dark, draping over her shoulders as they formed a brisk wave.

This was the day that she held my hand, leading me deep into the crowds as she pushed her way to a decent point. We swayed together, to the beat of the music. This feeling was euphoric, I felt high even though I hadn't taken an ounce of drugs.

We were together like this for hours, travelling and listening to music, gazing at each other and sometimes; I was just admiring her, and the way she moved.

Distraction found its way to me as I stared at the stage, now finally in my line of sight capturing my curiosity. I felt as though I had been looking away for mere moments, until multiple songs had ended and I snapped out of my daze, to find Emily was no longer by my side.

My heart dropped, panic set in as I became frantic.

I often look back and wonder if my search would have been made easier, had the sun still been radiating on me. But like Emily, the sun had vanished, and all that was around me was settled darkness and unknown bodies. The music had no relevance to me anymore as I tuned is out, pushing my way through the crowd to find her, to find those sweet tunes again — and the sun, how I missed the sun.

I had to find her.

❅ ❅ ❅

I glance down and find Sophia fast asleep, her eyes fluttering as she's lost in her dreams. I take the time to carefully distance myself from her, silently exiting her room, and leaving her to sleep peacefully. I wander towards the master bedroom, only to find Emily asleep under the covers of our bed. I used to always admire the way she slept, but now I take it for granted and step out of the room, having no desire to sleep at the moment.

I make my way downstairs, clasping my grey journal from the coffee table where I left it before Emily and I started to argue. I position myself to sit at the dining room table having the desire to write some lyrics, but I am distracted by the paper that decides the fate of my marriage and family.

A constant reminder of our separation lies on our wooden dining room table and stares me dead in the eyes every morning as I drink my morning coffee, black.