It had been one of the brighter moments for Benjamin, because in the days that had followed after, his behaviour hadn't really improved. Sometimes when I lay in bed at night before going to sleep, my mind would go through the days again, desperately trying to find a moment where it went wrong. If it was because of me, if it truly was just Aurora's temper and his own mood swings.

Sometimes I tried to pull the words out of his mouth, but they were swallowed so deep down, flooding with the wave of his emotions towards his heart- where everything else was stuck- that I didn't seem to succeed.

The reason I let it be. He was eleven, would become more independent. Maybe he simply did not want to share things with me anymore. I figured I could ask Salomé if she knew more about the development of boys that age. I couldn't remember it myself. Besides- my childhood hadn't been that stable, therefore I didn't know if the way I had behaved when I was eleven was the way boys in general would behave.

Drinking my coffee, I watched Benjamin. He was seated onto the horse I had made him in the backyard. Hat on top of his head, belt around his waist, lasso in his hand. He wasn't practicing fanatically, rather stared at the head of the horse while playing with the rope in his hand. He would throw the lasso in the direction of the cow so now and then, but other than that, he just sat there.

He glanced inside the house. The moment his gaze fell on me, he tried to play, pushed his emotions away, like he always did. "Benjamin Matteo Teddy Malin, Bronq rider of the century. Wow!" He held onto the fake reigns with one hand, swayed with the other to pretend to keep his balance. His hips moved back and forth, he looked focused. "He just beat Casey Tibbs! And that with his eleven years old.. Wow. Benjamin I'm proud of you." He stopped. Slouched back. Watched the sky. Sighed deeply. "Thanks mamma."

I swallowed the wave of coming emotions down and stood up, figuring it was the right time to leave. Salomé had asked me to come over- she had urgent news. She had sounded rather upset, and the fact that she was willing to share it with me made me feel relieved. I'd been afraid, thinking she was mad at me for behaving the way that I had. I didn't meant to leave her hanging that day, however, I also didn't want to give her the impression that I was cheating on my wife.

"Benji, come. Unc Teddy is waiting for you." Benjamin slid off the horse, reached for his backpack, which was packed with sleeping stuff in case it would become late, and stumbled over to the car.

When I drove off, Benjamin looked at me with furrowed eyebrows. "I like Unc Teddy. He's very kind, but why can't I sleepover at Nolan? You wanted me to spend more time with him and Daniël too and then you send me to Unc Teddy each time."

How could I answer that?

"Nolan has three sisters and two brothers. I don't want to burden them with another child."

"I'm a burden?" Benjamin raised his eyebrows.

"Didn't mean it in that way."

"But Daniel said it himself and he offered it so we can accept that offer."

He didn't give up. Aurora's personality in him was stronger than mine. Our personalities hadn't blended equally when Benjamin was formed.

"You're the only grandson Unc Teddy has, he loves having you over."

"Why do you have to work at night? You never do that."

I suppressed a sigh. "There's something urgent going on."

Benjamin was quiet for the remaining of the ride. When I had dropped him off, I increased my speed and parked at Salomé's house not much later. I knocked onto the window when I saw her seated onto the couch with documents scattered all over her lap and floor.

"Zev." She gave me a quick smile, led me inside and closed the door.

"Ciao." I mumbled out. Politely, I took off my shoes, felt sheepish when she told me I could have left them on. The awkwardness that had surrounded me in my teenage years slowly seeped back in, but I didn't really know why.

When I noticed she had left me alone, I awkwardly invited myself over to the living room, where she was busy arranging the documents. A watery glaze had fallen over her eyes and it made me frown. My feelings faded, within a moment I was seated beside her on the couch. "Hey, everything alright?"

She blinked a few times, shook her head. "It's Gloria. She has to leave the country."

"What?" I furrowed my eyebrows as silence engulfed us for a while, thoughts taking over, as well as the utter confusion. I thought of the small black girl, her bright smile, her dark brown eyes that held traumas, her dancing, her softness, her tight buns. "What do you mean, she has to leave the country?"

"Yeah, alone." Salomé wiped her face and tried to smile. "I'm sorry. I-" More tears rolled down her cheeks. I wanted to wipe them away, but my mind knew better. Fishing a clean handkerchief out of my jeans, I handed it over to her. She forced a smile, thanked me quietly.

"Take your time." I mumbled out, my eyes raking over the documents, craving for the information right now. The uncertainty and suspense made me feel irritated, but I tried to hide it. It wasn't her fault, obviously she was upset about it and my guts told me I would be too, in a minute.

Salomé dried her face, took a deep breath and shoved a plate towards me. "Gulab jamun. Sorry if it's not pronounced well. It's Pakistani."

The fact that she had made something that belonged to my roots made me feel warm, even when I didn't feel much connection towards that part of my identity because my father hadn't been a part of my life. In fact, I had despised it for quite some years. It was foreign to me, everything was. From the food to the language to the traditions. I grew up English, mixed with Italian traditions when I married Aurora.

Put that all aside, she genuinely surprised me with her sweet gesture. I was at loss for words for a moment, because even when she was deep in her emotions, she still thought of me. Didn't that say enough of who she was, even when before this, I barely knew her.

"I thought, well.." Salomé chuckled and if my eyes weren't deceiving me, I could see how her cheeks colored rosy. "Maybe it would make you feel like home. Unlike me. Who doesn't feel home in her own home. Ironic." She chuckled. It lightened the atmosphere for us both.

"Thank you." I smiled. "Really thoughtful." I bit into the sweet looking ball of fried dough. I hummed in satisfaction of the taste. The texture was soft, melted onto my tongue. Oil and syrup dripped down the corners of my mouth onto my chin. It really had been a while since I had eaten anything so good. The last time was Salomé's cake, too. The time before was Aurora's cooking.

Salomé looked amused. She handed me a napkin. "Good?"

"Amazing."

She laughed. It sounded soft and sweet. When it faded, I remembered what I was here for.

"Are you ready to tell me?" I licked off my fingers before wiping them on the napkin she had given me.

She nodded, but the tears flowed out right away. "Gloria's father lied about his identity while coming into England. He'd made false documents, trying to avoid the refusal he would most likely get if he hadn't done it. The state found out."

I frowned. "Why? What has he done for him to false documents? That's a rather.. risky thing to do. He should have known that."

"Criminal records from when he was in Nigeria. He'd been in prison for a few years."

"Recently?"

"Perhaps, why would the country decline him, otherwise?" Salomé stared at her nails, which seemed freshly painted. "I looked it up. Home Office. Immigration Rules. Refusal paragraphs. 'The applicant has made false representations or submitted false documents in their current application or in order to obtain documents from the Secretary of State or a third party required in support of the application.' And besides that, another paragraph says something about the years of having spent in prison. He's got both."

Right. What could we bring in to that? It was a rule. And he had done something that wasn't allowed. It all was quite simple. Then a thought shot into my mind. "But, why would Gloria have to leave by herself?"

"Well, if they're refusing his stay here, he has to go back to Nigeria, back to prison because of the new crime he has committed, and since Gloria's mother has been off radar for a long time, most likely deceased.. she will be alone." Salomé cried softly, painful sounds were audible. "We can't.. there is no way I'm letting her go, all alone like that. Her father would go back to prison then what would happen to her? A seven year old girl, with no parents by her side, the traumas still caught up in that little mind of hers.. there is no way-" She clutched her chest. The tears continued to drip down her face.

Without thinking much about it, I rested my arm onto her shoulders. "Hey, we will figure something out. Is there any way we can get in contact with her father? Is there still time left?"

"Yeah, there will be a few sessions, lawsuit before the definitive statement." She wiped her tears. "He is allowed to be with Gloria for a day or two more, then he'll be held in prison while they'll try to do their research about the whole situation. Gloria will be staying in a refugee home for the time being."

I didn't really know what to say. The situation hadn't fully processed in my mind yet. I was quiet and removed my arm when she shifted a little, making me feel sheepish.

"Sorry, you might think I'm overreacting, but Gloria had opened up about her trauma last time. I had been meaning to tell you, but the school trip got cancelled and I hadn't seen you ever since."

"No, no." I answered, my voice low and soft. "I understand it. I'm sorry. I need to let everything sink in, it's the way my mind works." I let out a deep breath. "I feel awful for Gloria. She's going through something horrible."

Salomé wiped her face a final time, organized the documents and put them away in a folder. "Do you think we can figure something out for them? Maybe we can speak to her father, find his intentions. The imprisonment seems to be a lot harsher there than here in England. Maybe we can dig deeper, testify for him. There must be more to it all. I cannot imagine that he would risk this all.. although.. I'm not sure what I would do for my husband and child if war was behind me and a safer life in front of me. Goodness, my mind has been a mess ever since the news."

I briefly touched her hand, tried to search for eye contact. "I'm up for it. We'll see what we can do."

"Thank you, Zev. And I'm sorry for pulling you away from your home life. I just.. I didn't really have anyone to.." She hesitated, her face looked apologetic.

"Never say sorry for that." I shrugged.

It had become late. We were quiet. The only sounds we heard were the ticking of the clock and the birds singing their lullaby before hiding and going to sleep. I played with my ring, while Salomé poured us some wine and brought more sweets and savory snacks to her coffee table.

She had given up asking about my wife and I appreciated that. I was tired of not telling the truth, but to tell the truth still hurt too much. Even looking at the wine hurt.

I glanced at her. A thought struck to me. She had been so open, so vulnerable showing her emotions, expressing it into her tears and not even trying to hide it that it had touched my heart. The warmness seeped through my insides, heated up the core that had been left cold and dead when Aurora had left. Gradually. With much hesitation. Waiting for my approval.

"Tell me about your son." She whispered. Her eyes stood warm. Genuinely interested. And not to deny, a look that screamed specific longing for something. The same, longing look Aurora had always had in her eyes. Children. One day, of her own.

Staring at my lap as I played with my fingers still, my thoughts went to Benjamin. "I actually had a question.."

"Yeah?"

"What do you know of boys, aged eleven? Mental, emotional development?" I shook my head. "Pedagogy, right? Not developmental psychology. Sorry."

Salomé smiled a little. "I've studied that, too." She reached for some snacks, slouched back onto the couch and spoke while her eyes were gazing the walnuts she was holding. "It's a lovely, but difficult at the same time- age. It's the age where probably many eye rolls will be given to you, but there's still that part of the little boy that needed affection, once. Meaning for example, that despite the eye rolls and the scolding, he might still ask you sometimes if you can tuck him into bed." She frowned a little, glanced at me. "Speaking in general, of course. Everyone is different."

"Usually what you see around this age is that the opinions of friends or classmates start to matter more than the opinions of a parent. Nothing personal, that's just his social development. It's the age where they explore their independences, which also means, very fun for the parents, they will start testing limits and the rules." Salomé reached for her wine glass, tucked her legs and got comfortable in the corner of the couch. "Thing is, they don't really think bad things will happen, they'll slowly realise that their actions do have consequences."

"Tell me about it." I rolled my eyes, but smiled.

Salomé laughed. "Emotionally, they will start to realise that crying is not cool, which is sad, and they often will be treated by their peers according to the way they behave, clothes, interests and all.." She took a sip of her wine. Mine was still untouched. "And the attitude. That would be a fun one. I mean, I don't have experience myself, but I've been a teacher in France years back. The attitude those children have is insane. Sarcasm. Back-chatting. Just testing the limits. But at the same time, seeing that boys in general don't speak much, often it's seen that they will start to speak even less."

"I think.. if I may say so myself, that it's important to keep talking, no matter what. You may never know what he's holding back."

"And what if you can't get it out of him? Even when you gave him different options, ways to let him empty that mind?" I looked at her, our eyes met.

"I guess it depends.." Salomé placed her glass onto the coffee table. "Is there something specific you want to know from him? Like, did something happen, is he holding something back that you know of?"

I swallowed. The truth was on the tip of my tongue, but I didn't want to give in. So I shrugged. "Just find it hard to find the line between what's normal for his age and what not."

"I think you'll know." Salomé furrowed her eyebrows, looked in thoughts. "Obviously there's challenging behaviour, but you know your son best, you'll know when he goes further than he'd do if it maybe wasn't for the situation he may have been through."

I stayed quiet. My guts were heavy. I felt nauseous.

"Hey, I can offer you play therapy. For free. For you and him." Why was everybody offering me that? Did they see something, feel something through my words, that he wasn't okay? Was I really that blind, or was it my selfishness, always trying to do everything myself and not wanting to give in to other people's words? "If you feel he needs that, of course. You don't seem to want to let out much of the situation.. which is more than okay, of course. Hard for me to get an indication of the things going on." She chuckled softly, and I understood what she was saying.

I gave her a half-heartedly smile.

"God is there in the wilderness. Trust me. Been there." Her expression was hope mixed with pain from the past. I admired her.

The rest of the night we spent chatting small talks, listened to music Salomé liked and she showed me photos of the countries she had travelled as a young girl, along with her father and in some photos- her pregnant mother. When the clock hit that it was one in the early, early morning, I watched Salomé fall asleep onto the couch. I had carefully laid down a blanket on top of her, put on my shoes and drove home.

When I stepped into my own bed, I stared at the photo of our wedding, the typewriter, the bottles of wine, emptied of the drink but filled with letters from Aurora. I laid down onto her side, pressed my face into her pillow and cried until I fell asleep.

•

Sweet Zev.. do you think feelings are growing between Zev and Salomé?

Little Gloria and her father?

Benjamin?

Let me know your thoughts. Votes and comments really do motivate me to write further.. ❤️