A/N: Hello everyone! It's a weekend and it's update time! 

Today's photo above is Stephen Heath, portrayed by Jack Huston. I really liked this guy from the Longest Ride. He played Ira Levinson. 

Until tomorrow'a update. Enjoy and Happy reading!

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A day before the week ended, I got a knocked on my door from a few tech guys from the telecommunication company to install the Internet router on the house. By the afternoon, I plunged into reading a whole book of the digital copy Luke sent me from my lawyers. On the email, the lawyer advised I took on a different person who specialized on the field. With that note, there was a sour look on my face. At thirty, I was the first person who was in my circle of friends getting a divorce.

After spending a whole afternoon reading my rights and how to proceed with the case, I held up my hand in defeat. When I first thought of filing the papers after that day, I decided on doing most of the work myself. It was conceited to be confident of my own connections – since in this situation I had only one person.

With a grim look, I picked up my cellphone and quickly went through the contacts until I found the right name to call. It rang twice before someone picked up.

"So it seemed you've got in that hard head of yours to finally call me." An all too familiar voice answered with sarcasm, giving me a little flash back when I was young and called her whenever I got in trouble.

"Hello, Aunt Solane. I'm sorry I hadn't called in for awhile," I replied in defeat, trying to get her sympathy.

"It's okay, Kyle. After not seeing you for almost three months now, I think I'd grown accustomed of not hearing your voice," she pointed dryly, understanding the under tone of guilt she tired to pull.

"Again, I'm sorry. I'd been busy with the new restaurant in Chicago," I explained, trying to cool it off plainly without sounding defensive.

"I understand, Kyle. I was there at the opening and I know how busy you are. But at least call me once a month," she stated with a sigh.

"I would put it on the top things needed to do every month," I remarked cheekily, trying to lighten up the mood.

"Always the charmer," she cooed with a chuckle. "So, I assumed you called me not because to check in and apologize for not calling... and from the gossip magazine I'd read, I think I should be sending you an expensive bottle of whiskey," she said with a incisive tone.

"So you heard the news..."

"Why hadn't you called me about this? How long had this been going between you two?"

"From what I know, for a while. The gossip magazines had implied it gone for years now. I feel so stupid for being oblivious. I mean, I noticed something, but not this!" I abruptly stopped talking when I noticed my voice getting louder.

"Did your sister know about this?" she asked after a brief silent from my outburst.

"No. I hadn't called Crissy yet, but she might know now after the news spread."

"Did you know before the press printed the article?"

"I did. And it so happened when I found out the paparazzi where there too."

"I'm sorry, dear. I'd never wished this to happen with you or Cristine."

"Uhm..." There was a short paused as I let out a heavy sigh.

Aunt Solane had been widowed at a young age of twenty-nine. She was my late father's younger sister. Her husband died five years after my parent's accident.  I was nine when my parents passed away. Cristine, my little sister, was five at that time. Aunt Solane then became our legal guardian. I looked up to her while growing up. Not once she cracked after losing two important people in her life in a span of five years. She kept my sister and I grounded and taught us to be each other's strength.

"Kyle, where are you now? From what I heard, you'd fled the city," she asked worriedly.

"I've rented out Luke's house across the country. You don't have to worry about me. Think that I'm on a vacation," I offered lightly, trying to pass it as a joke.

"A portrait I couldn't imagine," she snickered in reply. "I'm glad Luke took care of you. You needed to give the boy a raise and a vacation."

"I think I promised him one of the two from our last conversation."

"So what do you need, Kyle? I would help you as much as I can," she asked after a brief pause, returning back to our topic.

"Thank you, Aunt Solane. I just need a good lawyer," I answered somberly.

"Is that all my dear?" she inquired.

"Yes. I think so... for now."

"One of my college friends works at a law firm who specialized in that field. I would give her a call." Her voice weighed in confidence, giving me a bit of hope to pull through in this time of my life.

"Thank you. I appreciate it."

"You only need to ask, my dear," she stated lovingly. "If this was all you're going to ask today, I needed to go. My break is already over and I have a trial to go at court."

"Okay. Talk to you soon. And kick some justice!" I cheered with a smile. I used the term she introduced us when we were younger before she took on a case.

"Take care, Kyle. Call back soon." With that our phone conversation ended.

I stared at my laptop for a moment before deciding to take a break from all the legal battle I had to soon face. Though I was blessed with a lawyer Aunt, it didn't lessen the burden. With a defeat sigh, I turned off the computer and headed towards my makeshift bed and lay down. In the silence, I felt a sense of agitation like I should be doing something around this time of the day. And then I remembered what my Aunt said about an image of me taking a vacation. In my head, I tried to think of the day I last had one and couldn't come up a memory.

When I lay there, it felt like time was moving fast. But once I glanced at my wristwatch, I had only been laying down for a good five minutes. It was noon and the only food I ate in morning was toast and jam. I was surprised my stomach hadn't grumbled in hunger. On cue, my stomach growled. A smile fleetingly spread on my face as I sat up and decided to eat somewhere for lunch.

After grabbing my phone, car keys, and my jacket, I got in my rusty truck and drove towards town. As I passed by the bakeshop on my way, I hastily studied the store window. I couldn't make out the interior of the shop, but it was enough for me to pinpoint her silhouette. She was standing by the counter as I had guessed.

I didn't stop the car and continued driving until I reached the main town. After passing by two possible stores to eat, I parked the car on the same spot in front of Ms. Carol's Diner. Carol greeted me with a welcoming smile once I walked in.

"Kyle, joining us for lunch today?" she asked as she walked up to me with a pitcher of water in hand.

"Yes," I paused and looked around the slightly packed room. "Is there an available booth I could sit?"

"Sure. Follow me, dear." She gestured towards the left side of the room, giving me a view across an empty booth. It was refreshing to see more people in the diner since the last two times there were hardly anyone. So I was glad on the wrong assumption.

After taking my seat, Carol held up her hand, signaling I gave her a second before attending to me. Immediately she was back, she handed me a menu, which I thought never existed. I gave it a quick look and decided on ordering a classic breaded chicken, mashed potato, corn, and a soda for my beverage. With a smile, she walked away again to place my order.

After waiting for twenty minutes, my food arrived. By then, I was really hungry. I kept my stomach at bay by drinking the water Carol had served me. Once the plate hit on the table in front of me, I didn't wait for it to cool off and dug in. From my impatience, I burnt my tongue with the warm food. But it hardly bothered me. In ten minutes, pausing a bit to chew and studied the people in the room, I finished my meal.

I leaned back and patted my belly in content. Like last time, I stayed a bit longer and chatted with Carol when she refilled my glass of water. It was around one that I finally headed out of the diner. I was about to get in my truck to head back home when something caught my eye from across the street.

In front of what looked like a small convenience store was an old man, whose hair was completely silver, grabbing a huge box at the back of a pick-up truck that looked similarly like mine. I studied the old man for a moment until I saw him placing the box back on the truck and briefly swing his arm, like it was numbed.

Out of impulse, I looked around the slightly empty street and crossed, heading directly to him. After I was a good distance away, I hesitantly greeted him.

"Good afternoon, sir. Do you need help carrying those boxes?" I asked out of courtesy even though I knew he needed it.

The old man looked startled as he regarded my presence. "Oh, sonny, that would be such a great help. Thank you."

"No problem, sir," I replied as he took a step back. From there, I took his place and gauged the box's weight.

"I advise you to lift with your knees. It's a bit heavy," the old man stated beside me.

"Got it." With a quick intake of breath, I lifted up the box. After weighing it for a second, I mentally calculated the weight of the package. It wasn't that heavy as how he had said it. "Where do you want this, sir?" I asked as I faced him.

"Inside the store. Right this way, son," he said and gestured towards the store in front of the car.

I followed him inside, grunting a bit as I jostled the box a little. As we entered the store, I did a quick assessment of the place. It looked generic like most convenience store. The walls and ceiling was painted in washed off white. There were selves of goods, from canned goods to home amenities and hygiene products. On the right side of the store was a two well-stocked fridge. I noted the store was too quiet.

"Place those here, sonny," the old man called, snapping out of my ogling and turned towards where he stood at the back of the room.

I hurriedly headed towards him and put the box down beside a pile he gestured for me to place it. I noticed there were at least five boxes of the same size placed on the floor. From the identical label of the box, it made me wonder if he had carried the other four by himself. Looking at his tired face, it was enough answer I needed to my mental question.

"Thank you. I thought my arm would break after the last one," he remarked lightly, giving me an appreciative smile.

"Don't you have anyone to help you out?" I asked, looking back around the store.

"My grandson have school and my son needed to entertain some business in the city for a few weeks. So it's just me here," he replied lightly, though there was a hint of sadness in his voice.

"Don't you have other staff mending the store?"

"We couldn't really afforded to hire one at the moment..." he trailed off shyly.

"I see," I said and looked at the old man for a second. "Would you like me to help you until you found someone? I'm free these days and you don't have to pay me anything."

The old man looked at me in surprise, his mouth hanged opened for a second before he composed his expression. "That's very kind of you to offer son, even though we've just met..." he trailed off with a smile, his eye looked a bit watery. "What is your name, if I may ask?"

"It's Kyle. And really, I would love to help. I just found a bit of time and I don't know what to do with it," I said with an encouraging smile.

"You aren't a serial killer in hiding, are you?" he jokingly accused.

With a laugh, I shook my head. "No. I'm afraid not. Do you know the Bailey's, Mrs. Wilde's son-in-law? He's my Uncle."

"Oh. Good. So you are little Luke's cousin? Are you as mischievous as the boy?" he wearily observed.

"No, sir." I put up the best angelic smile I could. And at this point, I was no longer surprise if the people I met knew about Luke's family.

He studied my expression for a second before offering me his hand. "Please call me, Benji. I think sir is too formal, and I couldn't reminder the last time someone address me that," he said with a chuckle.

"Nice to meet you, Benji," I said while shaking his hand. "So, anything to work around while I'm here?"

"Eager worker. I think we're seeing eye to eye, sonny," he chuckled in approval and patted my arm.

For the most part of the day, Benji had me clear out a few boxes and arranged the shelves. At some point, he had handed me a working apron after my shirt got dirty from the boxes. Benji stayed at the office located at the end of the store, near the back exit and restroom while I worked. Though every now and then he would walk up to the counter and attended some of the customers. It was weird how he knew when a few of them would show up. They might be his regulars. But at times when he wasn't around and a customer came in, I had to call him out.

It was around quarter to six when the old man decided he would close early. From the sign outside, it indicated they close around seven in the evening. But seeing as the street was quiet and it had been an hour since the last customer left the door, it was a good decision.

I was about to clean the floor, which cause a short disagreement between Benji and I, when someone entered the store. Benji looked up from the register, a smile already in place. But his smile faded once he saw who entered. My body stiffened slightly in recognition. It was the same guy who came in the bakeshop, making a handful of staff and customer cower at his presence. It perked my interest.

"Hey old man. I need a pack of cigarettes and a lighter please," the man called out commandingly before he headed towards the line of fridge.

I stood across from him, the mop already in hand. With a scrutinizing gaze, I glared at him while he took a pack of beer stacked on the shelf. Once he got what he wanted, his boots skidded over the tiled floor. Cringing at the sound, I kept a watchful eye on him until he placed the beer on top of the counter beside the register.

"Would that be all?" Benji asked out of courtesy, his voice almost inaudible.

"Where's my pack of smoke and lighter?" the man rudely asked, studying the empty counter top.

"Right. I'm sorry," Benji mumbled before turning around and faced the glassed shelf behind him, which housed the cigarette products that wasn't allowed for anyone under the age of eighteen.

"God damn it, old man! You're making me late. Now, how much is all of this?" He cursed under his breath.

Benji placed the pack of smoke by the beer before ringing him up on the register. Once the amount flashed on the screen, the man pulled out a few bills in his front pocket and slammed it on the counter angrily. I saw Benji flinched at the sound but otherwise didn't show the fear on his face. He got the money and quickly counted it.

"You're short on five dollars," Benji mumbled as he looked up towards him.

"Well, that's your lost for getting my stuff too late," he defended impolitely.

"But..." Benji countered, trying to fight back.

The man grabbed the things he bought and ignored Benji. It was then I decided to intervene. I took a few steps before calling him out.

"Excuse me, sir!" My voice stopped his advance, getting his attention. "You heard him. You lack five bucks," I added when he finally looked at me.

"And who are you?" His words echoed.

"I just work here," I mumbled in reply. "Now, how about paying what you lack?" My voice raised louder in command.

The man stared at me with a growing grin. "Benji. Where did you find this shithead?" he asked in amusement before his expression shifted grimly. "Let me tell you something new guy since you don't seem to know who I am..." he trailed off and took a few step closer, looking intimidating.

Standing my ground, I kept my expression passive and waited for him to continue. But when he didn't, I arched my eyebrow in challenge. "And who are you?" I asked after another beat of silence.

"Is this guys serious?" he huffed in disbelief, glancing quickly at Benji. "Let me enlighten you. My father owns this town. And if you want to continue living here, I suggest you keep your mouth shut, you little shit!"

With that, he turned on his heel and headed out of the store towards a truck parked right in front of the door. Once he was gone, I turned to Benji who looked like he choked on something awful. "Are you okay, Benji?" I asked in worry.

"Thank you for standing up to me, son. But I apologize you had to do it. If you see him again, I suggest you get out of his way," he informed, getting out the register counter and locked the door from the store.

"Who was he, Benji? I think I've seen him at the bakeshop one time..."

"Oh! So you've met, Lenna?"

"Ah, yes."

"That's the father of her son. And if I were you, you shouldn't mingle with them." His voice trailed off in my ear as I watched him empty the cash register.

Somehow without knowing, I knew how he was linked with her. But I refused to believe it. Not even when someone had said it out loud.