"He's here"

Mitch stared at the sun as it went down behind the horizon as figure behind him swayed in the breeze. "So?"

"So...it means he cares, Mitchy."

"I've told you a thousand times, Dylan; don't call me that."

Dylan sat beside him now, smiling that smile that only he could muster. That smile did amazing. "Ain't funny how we were married for ten years but still you hated when I called you that."

"Because he-"

"Because he's called you that since y'all were ten years old, I know. But...but you ever wonder why it pisses you off so much?"

"I hate him."

The figure, dressed in white, rolled his eyes. "You sure didn't act like it. You two were made for each other."

"No... I was made for you but you left so I'm alone. I'll probably end up some depressed old maid all by her lonesome. Who only has her kids to keep her going all because you decided-"

"I didn't 'decide'"

"-to leave me." Mitch turned around and the figure, who loomed so heavy in the background, was gone.

"Figures..COWARD!"

The sun peaked through the blinds as his eyes to began adjust. The clock said 6:30 am. At some point during the night, Kirstin and Charleigh had came in and checked on him, falling asleep beside Jordan.

He was thankful for friends. They kept him sane during times he thought he'd lost it all. Those times were rough.

"Mm-morning." He rolled over to see Kirstin, stretched out beside him.

"Mornin'"

She sat up and placed her head on his shoulder. "Hungry? I think I heard something about Mike making breakfast."

"No."

She looked at him. He was on the verge of tears. "Oh no, baby."

She hugged him and he was grateful. She rocked him and he cried. His sobs woke up the other two friends laid out on the floor and arm chair in his room. Charleigh spoke first.

"What's wrong?"

Kirstin shook his head, "just having a moment. He'll be okay, just give him a minute."

Jordan made her way towards the door, "Um, I'm gonna go down stairs, Charleigh? Coming?"

"Yeah."

As the door shut, Mitch's sobs began to quiet down. He listened as Kirstin softly hummed a song from years ago. He wrote it with the blonde bombshell who galloped back into his life for his nephew. Oh, how he still hated him.

"I...I miss him. He's only been gone for two days and I miss him."

"Understandable."

"Everybody showed up."

"We love you, hun. We loved Dylan too."

It was quiet then. They could hear the commotion downstairs as the elder Grassi man made breakfast.

Mitch took a deep breath, "Scott's here."

"He is... And I don't like it."

"Why?"

She rolled her eyes and stood up. She began rummaging through his dresser, pulling out clothes to keep herself busy.

"He hurt you. He acted like an ass and he has the nerve to show his face? Here?"

"I'd rather him be here and show me he still cares."

"I guess. I just think you need to guard your heart. He's not said more than two words since he's been here. Hell for all you know, he probably celebrated when Connie told him. I don't trust him with you or the kids and I'm about two seconds away of buying him a plane ticket myself and sending him on his way. His presence is not needed here."

He felt angry rise up in his throat. "Kirstie, my husband is dead! Dylan is gone. I am now a single parent when I didn't sign up for this shit....this pain. Do you really think I give two shits about something that happened 6 years ago? He cared enough to be here and that's all that matters. Am I bitter? Abso-fucking-lutely. But I will deal with it when I'm ready. Be angry but keep that shit away from me."

She nodded. He was right. Right now was not the time to harbor ill feelings. She'd suppress it....for now.