Rylan: Grilled Cheese, Baby!

Cravings, Emilie desired grilled cheese; two slices, butter smothered crusty white bread, warmed until the butter melts, add cheese, Red Leicester or Strong Cheddar, neat slices that bubble under the grill. It is what her baby wants, the purest pleasure, Emilie seizes the rare moment, adding a slice of ham under the cheese, a dash of Worcestershire sauce or whole grain mustard. The cravings struck throughout the day; ignoring the barbecued delights, plates of burgers, hotdogs and chicken wings, Emilie munched her way through several cheese sandwiches. Emilie sighed, relieved this would be her final trimester, she worried about her figure, the baby’s size, how would she ever give birth? The doctor recommended leafy green vegetables and broccoli, rather than cheese, but grilled cheese was simple and the only way to make it throughout the day.

Rylan loved the freedom, working and home life, heading to the city, festivals on a whim, time with Emilie, meeting his sister, but it was beginning to lose its charm. In business, his role had perks, friends he made outside the usual group. Home; it was quiet, Emilie chatted, cooked or cleaned, often interrupting his train of thought. A suggestion caught his attention; with fame to his name, a social media career could open doors. The jobs offered were low paid and low level, he entered a small firm as a clickbay writer, his cheeky words and accompanying social media profile made slow progress, it was a long way from where he hoped to be one day.

Emilie watched the sunrise most days sipping orange juice on the porch, telling her stomach what excitement was in store for them or reading excerpts of Rylan’s latest book. She knew her baby would choose the start of the day, as labour pains tried to interrupt her routine as she was finishing the grilled cheese sandwich. Rylan rushed, throwing the bag into the car, checking everything, stressed at Emilie and her relaxed to approach to eating. Contractions were close together; they rushed to the delivery room, dilated and ready to burst. The room erupted, first Emilie cried as she pushed on command, trying to remember the breathing techniques they had learnt, Rylan suppressed his pain, as fingers bore the strength of his wife’s grip, with a moment of deafening silence split only by the sound of their baby’s first cry.

Eliza wriggled in the doctor’s arms, her vocal objection to the cold world and having her cord cut. Emilie, shock and awe at what they had produced, she counted the baby’s fingers and toes, the gummy yawn reminding Emilie of the energy she expelled to birth her daughter. Rylan proud, stood back as Emilie cooed over the next generation; she promised Eliza, as responsible and well-mannered she should be, they will have time to raise a little mischief.

Rylan: FIRED!

Rylan overheard a conversation, two of the senior executives discussed expenses. They were laughing, the pair suggesting a significant fortune of falsified receipts were keeping them in high-end shoes and suits. He called Ziva to help him check over the budget for his department. He discovered the dishonesty was limitless even his manager was in on the fraud. Rather than approaching the CEO, Rylan took the evidence, names and copies of receipts to the authorities. His contact at the local paper had suspicions, pleased when Rylan shared the information. Honesty is costly; he should have considered the consequences, Rylan packed his belongings, security unceremoniously escorted him from the building, the CEO yelling to the street the reasons for his firing. At least Rylan had a clear conscience, and his reputation would be undamaged by the upcoming investigation.

Emilie made light work of preparing a bedroom, with bright colours and toys, the baby would be spoilt for choice. The lounge saw changes, Emilie took inspiration from the internet to create the perfect learning environment with blocks, educational tablet, and books to stimulate the imagination, all in separate sections. Her childhood, the few memories she had, were simple things, she loved to read, and her nanny ensured she had a library of books at her disposal. Emilie’s parents worked, their commitments kept them busy, avoiding time spent with her, except for museums and art gallery trips. When they died, they were working in Strangerville, leaving her in Newcrest with neighbours, she recalled the smart Military man, the accident was a story which seemed unreal. Staring at the spaces she created, the thoughts of her youth made her shed a tear, Emilie would be an active and hands-on mother.

Trolling forums still held some appeal for her, the occasional chain letter, inappropriate emails, they were part of who she was, the actions subconsciously railed against her parents, failing to get their attention. Her interest in these waned, Emilie caught up on her reading, learning nursery rhymes and in private practised holding her teddy bear baby. She imagined taking trips to the beach, coffee with Ziva; hopefully she would also settle down and give her a niece or nephew, another thing they could bond over.

Emilie felt alone in her pregnancy, Rylan was home and distracted and focused on writing. Screenplays seemed to demand his time, numerous rejected ideas for scripting existing books, hours creating new and exciting works. Rylan ploughed through redline edits to his work which made him increasingly grumpy. The royalties were generous but were only one-off payments that covered the bills and expenses, their remaining wants and needs were eating a hole in their savings. He grunted through conversations, half-listening to Emilie, irritated that his wife talked of nothing else except the baby. Another issue was the morning sickness, despite the second trimester, it had continued, four ‘o’clock was the favourite time, Rylan grumpily tossed in the bed as Emilie stumbled in the dark, guilty for waking him.

Without Emilie, the Mischief Makers enjoyed subdued evenings, they sat drinking, arguing over computer games and watching movies, on rare occasions they went bowling. Emilie would often find them asleep on the sofa, waking them up with the smell of bacon, eggs and maple syrup pancakes. There would be awkward phone calls, angry wives and girlfriends, Emilie tempted to make some off-hand remark to get them in trouble but she resisted, well, some of the time.

Rylan: The Immediate Next Step

The few weeks post-wedding blurred together, Rylan focused on improving his career potential and impressing publishers with a new wave of cybercrime novels. Emilie wanted to distract herself from the upset stomach she had, but friends and new sister-in-law were busy with work. The house was complete, and aside from trolling forums, Emilie felt unsure what to do with all her free time. She spent her single life in a shared house, friends who were there, good conversation or take impromptu trips to the city, indulging in window shopping and delicious food, living with Rylan, she was lonely and bored by herself. Suppressing the urge to vomit, Emilie ran to the bathroom for the third time that morning.

Emile threw herself at Rylan he dropped his work bag as she thrust the positive test in his hand, they were expectant parents. They had discussed having children, neither thought it would be happening immediately after they married, but Rylan gave her a gentle squeeze, excited to add to their family.

Preparing for a baby seemed unnatural to Emilie, she thought she would be a mother one day, that when it happened maternal instincts would take over. Instead, they evaded her, Emilie found herself trolling forums and stressing over the parenting conversations which made her feel inadequate. It weighed heavy, the life she had enjoyed and the possibility that would make her a terrible mother. She questioned herself, Emilie had idealised her family life, children she could play pranks on, and with, the reality was this fantasy unnerved her.

Taking to the city, Emilie needed to keep life in perspective the baby was a huge change, one she hoped would bring them closer together, perhaps persuade Rylan to take fewer hours at work. On the other hand, they had a comfortable life his wage alone covered the essentials and paid for a few luxuries Emilie enjoyed. However, she had found herself bored at times, the programming she had learnt from Ziva gave her a taste for what she was capable of she had a talent for coding. Ziva suggested applying to SimsNet they had a branch in Newcrest, an easy commute, she had spoken with the manager, giving Emilie a glowing recommendation. Spending the whole day in an office to Emilie’s fear, she needed a flexible job, how could she be a good employee and mother, when she was absent from both.

She took a seat near the food stalls, so much to process, the tiny bundle growing inside her had given her pause. Life would be different, she needed to improve and grow, there will be fun, silly games to play, but from this moment on the baby came first. Throwing her empty food tray, Emilie observed the protest, the current Mayor stole money, altered the City Trust accounts, the courts dismissed it. Poverty was growing, many of the apartments were in urgent need of repair, infested with rats and cockroaches. Emilie joined the vocal townies, holding a board, proud she could help. Targeting the political elite gave her an idea, Emilie decided she would stand up for it, at least today, but Thursday she could look at plundering his private reserve for their cause.

Rylan: The Uninvited Guest

The Von Haunt Estate was abuzz with preparations, the budget spent on the venue and Emilie’s perfect dress. Rylan kept the guest list small, Ziva, their usual suspects and a few colleagues from work. Sunlight danced on the water, illuminating the greens, and spray from the waterfall glittered in a flawless display. Summer had blessed them, the flowers flourished, Emilie captivated guests and onlookers, she floated through the gardens in a crisp lilac gown.  Sai nudged Rylan; the question on the wedding guests mind was how he had managed to get this lucky. Ziva pulled at her dress those extra few pounds made it tight across her waist. Sai put a friendly arm across her shoulders a compliment helped her relax, sighing she wondering if she could look as good on her big day. Nerves got the better of Rylan, he stuttered through the vows, as Emilie giggled excited, spoke quick, with eager intention they married.

The wedding party made their way the main house, snapping photos, discussing the menu, what food they would consume and taking bets on how long it would be until Emilie would be pregnant. Houda, Rylan’s colleague, remained at the house, the patio beckoned her, distracted by beautiful surroundings, Houda found herself engulfed by the summer heat. Her skin blistered, unable to get back into the house due to curious visitors, Houda erupted in flames. The body lay smouldering on the floor, shattering the illusion of romance and joy.  

Grim arrived, surprised by the formal dress, assessed the situation. Ziva and Sai comforted Emilie, tentative, Rylan stepped towards the reaper. Hands clasped, eyes pleaded, Houda was one of the few colleagues Rylan could banter with, her strange life choice and consumption of blood unnerved him, but she was his friend. The reaper gazed weary, the sombre gathering, the pleading man, this creature had eternal life, she cheated death for centuries, it was against Grim’s nature to release a soul appearing next on his list. Today would be an exception, a gift to the newlyweds, Houda restored in her vampire form, this was one soul that could wait.

The celebration moved indoors, shocked by Houda’s death and resurrection, staff guided her to a room to rest, her body needing time to heal and she needed to keep a distance from warm-blooded temptation, in her weakened state the hungry remained uncontrolled. Sai led the way to the bar, a few drinks should calm the anxieties and get people back into the party spirit, besides, Rylan had married a beautiful woman and saved another from permanent death, they should revel in the wins.

Von Haunts estate provided a delicious spread, dishes catering to a variety of tastes, the guests gorged themselves on Butternut Gnocchi, Chicken Saltimbocca and Lobster Thermidor, the chef struggled to keep up with demand, as visitors to the estate helped themselves. Upstairs the pianist entertained, the dance moves were uninspiring, clumsy as Rylan twirled Emilie, they both laughed and stumbled, he held her in his arms, in an unusual public display of affection.

Ziva: All Patched Up

Ziva noticed Patches used to visit daily, however, it had been at least a week since the stray had come by. Worried, Ziva risked being late for work to look for the cat along the usual beach route. She spied a fluffy tail near a bush and ran over, it was another cat, basking in the sun, unimpressed by the interruption. Time was pressuring her to turn and leave for work, reluctantly she headed off. 

Picking chicken saved for Patches she waited in the dimming light, the quiet evening broken by lapping waves in the distance, the occasional catfight from the beach. Sleep evaded her, eyes flickered from the ceiling to the clock waiting for dawn to break. Ziva squeezed herself into jeans, clothes were tighter, an issue for another day, she needed to find the cat. The air was chilly, making her regret leaving her jacket as she called for Patches, at least if the name was unfamiliar, Ziva hoped her voice was friendly. Patches lay shivering heated only by bonfire embers, weak cries objecting to Ziva’s handling, replaced by silence, the cat pawing at her t-shirt desperate for warmth.

The veterinary surgery, warm and clinical, took pride in caring for strays, they used goodwill donations to offer a substantial cost reduction, with the expectation the person bringing in the stray paying the balance. Money was an ongoing issue for Ziva, bills and social life, meant little remained for additional expenses, despite that, she handed over the fee to see Patches given the best care. Medication for fleas and worms, matted fur washed and combed, with significant objection, tests run checking for other issues, they concluded lack of suitable nutrition and care was the cause of the poor condition of Patches. 

The initial reaction to her ordeal was to cry and hiss by the door, shooting under the sofa when Ziva approached and eating after Ziva went to bed. It was hard to watch, leaving her trapped inside for her wellbeing was cruel in Ziva’s eyes, but the vet insisted. Leaving for work was risky, Patches enjoyed scratching the sofa and Zivas’ budget would be insufficient to cover the cost of a replacement. Her worries were needless, Patches yawned, stretching her body, she rubbed her head against the armrest, dropping to the floor and headed to the food bowl.

The vocal, affectionate Patches was the perfect companion to welcome Ziva home. Neither were lonely, Ziva cuddled her new friend, she was worth every penny. In her new home, Patches relished the warmth, the foot of the bed her favourite spot to sleep. She would slip downstairs while Ziva slept, taking her fill of the dried food dispenser, knowing when Ziva got up for work, she could slip under the covers. Nothing like a soft warm bed and a fully satisfied stomach. 

Patches was nervy near new people, Ziva had her friends over regularly, taking picnics down to the beach. They lit a bonfire on the beach, waded in the cool waters and danced. Ziva felt awkward talking to Elizabeth, the memory of her declining a date weighed on her mind. Laura remained annoyed with Ziva, her friend refused to share the reasons, instead, turning her back during the group conversation. That evening, rain changed their plan; ditching the pub crawl in favour of chess and competitive computer games under the watchful eye of the cat.

The following day Ziva wanted to try her luck at the Spice festival, Rylan boasted, claiming to have the blisters to prove he handled the heat. Ziva tempted her palate, sampling a few of the least spicy offerings in an effort to build her courage. Cautious, she approached the challenge, the first mouthful started with the smokey spices, coconut twisted into the rich tomato base sauce, the warmth tingled. The effect of the chilli blossomed, cancelling the initial flavour, the second mouthful was all heat, Ziva could taste nothing, lips burned, the curry was akin to eating fire. She spat the food on her plate, eyes welled up and her face flushed red, she could feel her body keen to reject the little she consumed. This was an evening of regret, it took days for her senses to recover and she could enjoy normal foods.  

Ziva: Let the world swallow me

Ziva thrived in her career; her ideas earned her recognition both within the company and the industry. She had shown innovative concepts in her most recent program; the development of the software was groundbreaking in online gaming development. Protecting players whilst online from hackers, Ziva knew that her advancement would be a temporary success, as the industry changed continuously, nonetheless the award and promotion to Development Captain, a significant step to help her stay on top of the trend. The company encouraged her to remain, to apply for roles with their e-sports department, but gaming was her brother’s passion, she wanted her skills to have practical applications.

It was rare Rylan celebrated his sister’s success; it surprised her to get a call for lunch. Rylan breezed his congratulations, jealousy tinged his voice for her award.  His nominated book proved fruitless, except for making him a local celebrity, small fish compared to his ambitions. Ziva praised this, she had bought the book but had to admit it was unread due to her busy social life and attempted cat rescue plans. Rolling his eyes, Rylan switched over to the real reason he had called and invited her to the wedding. A marriage, he had concerns, how could he provide for Emilie or their children and he worried he would fail, that his work would take all his time or he would leave them like Jose did. Strange seeing Rylan anxious in this way, Ziva convinced herself, he thought the world owed him something. Smiling, she polished off her lunch, they had to believe life with Emilie would be different. He shrugged, the one thing Rylan needed to remember, Ziva assured, was that he and Emilie loved each other enough to take the risk on spending the rest of their lives together.

Ziva cringed, her overexcitement at seeing Elizabeth again and meeting the girls in San Myshuno at the Spice Market; her best friend Laura assured everyone it was the best Karaoke bar around. While her friends acquainted themselves with the song list, Ziva watched Elizabeth take to the stage, she carried the tune well, lacking the drunk courage her friends were knocking back shots. She flinched as the book and request paper found its way to her, nods of encouragement followed. Aria had been the musical talent in their family, her voice melodic, while Ziva made the cats of Brindleton Bay sound like an angelic chorus. Elizabeth leant on the bar, her hands shaking as she drank her wine with haste, ordering another round for her and a hovering Ziva.

Alcohol can boost confidence, daring the shyest of singers or hopeful lovers to take a chance, Ziva was the latter, and perched near Elizabeth the awkward flirt got her friends attention. Rather than a flat refusal or hostile rejection, Elizabeth expressed her genuine flattered response at Ziva’s interest. Her sweet smile relaxed Ziva despite her discomfort, Elizabeth put her at ease, hoping this would cement their friendship. They joined the rest of the group, cheering support at their friend’s efforts. Laura had been Ziva’s best friend since school, her mood soured by the embrace Elizabeth and Ziva shared by the bar. Ziva brushed it off, wanting to forget the embarrassing conversation, wishing the world had swallowed her whole as the memory embarrassed her.

Ziva: Love or Fur

Ziva hated the quiet time, amidst her job and active social life she found herself feeling lonely. Rylan had Emilie waiting for him she had no-one, no company or lover to care if her day was good or bad. She missed her brother, they were words she thought would be the furthest from her mind having been so keen to live alone. Many of her colleagues seemed coupled up, and although she had seen Elizabeth a few times at parties, Ziva was too shy unable to approach her. If a human companion was unavailable, perhaps the furry kind may offer some comfort.

Brindleton Bay had hundreds of stray cats and dogs; she saw them on her walks along the beach. They were timid, covered in fleas and starving, she had seen them fighting over food a few times. Ziva had intended on taking her leftovers for them, but she forgot. Another problem Ziva foresaw was she had no idea how to care for an animal. Her first efforts to approach a stray were tentative, their growls, the look of fear in their eyes that a human would dare to touch them. She made a hasty retreat; the future efforts required bribes.

A cold day, Ziva jogged to keep warm; on the picnic table, curled and shivering was a white ball of fur, parts of it thin in places. It was one of the few regular strays she had seen frequenting the area, known with affection as Patches. Ziva sat unwrapping foil filled with leftover chicken, the cat watching with intrigue, inching nervously to the edge of the table. She ate a small piece herself, offering some to Patches who jumped into the reeds, when Ziva returned, the cats had devoured the remaining chicken.

Inspired by her research online, Ziva turned her porch into a haven for cats to explore, litter boxes, toys, a scratching post and the most important aspect, the food. The porch light scared a few at first when it came on, Ziva fixed the light to stay on all night. Patches disappeared, the long fluffy tail eluded her for week;, seated by the picnic table picking at the chicken, Ziva missed seeing her.

It was late evening when she heard a cat at her door singing the song of her people. Patches voice carried a strange tune; she stayed put as Ziva armed with salmon stepped on the porch. Her heart melted to see her favourite stray hungry but safe. The cat hesitated, waiting patiently for Ziva to drop the food and back away, Patches crept low, her eyes darting from Ziva to the salmon. Ziva froze, statue tall, watching as every flake savoured with happy purring as the mouthfuls filled her. She expected Patches to run off, instead, she curled up near the steps, this was her new territory, Ziva elated by this success headed to bed. 

Rylan: Mischief and Wedding Plans

Ziva thought she was free of Rylan’s pranks; there had been fewer as he focused on his career and the financial security of his future family. This change gave Emilie room to play her own, shaking up soda cans, plastic bugs in ice cubes, whoopee cushions, all tame antics and taken with good humour by Ziva. Emilie’s favourite was sharing serious stories that lead the listener astray, a false sense of reality, she added crazy eyes with the punchline, making Ziva jump, and grit her teeth, annoyed she was so easy to fool. Other perks to befriending Ziva, her computer knowledge, Emilie asked for lessons on programming and building applications, she kept secret her reasons but, Ziva was keen to share her knowledge and have a constructive way of communicating.

Aside from her housework and mischief, Emilie loved to read she was fond of Rylan’s books, “Unseen Prayer”, another of his cybercrime thrillers had her enthralled.  It had sat hidden in unpacked boxes intended for landfill, she read, hypnotised by the story, turning every page until discovering the killer had been in plain sight after all, the twist, written from their perspective. She pushed him to publish it, Rylan’s previous novel “Built for Duty” flopped, and critics slated his work, forcing him to take a break, shelving many of his ideas. Emilie sat excited at the table the letter in her hand; curiosity had the better of her as she prized it open. Thick, expensive paper, an elegant invitation to an awards evening, Rylan’s novel nominated for an award. Delighted squeals greeted him, tired, Rylan shrugged, a half-smile, collapsing on the sofa, Emilie was plenty excited for them both.

Award or not, Rylan decided enough, he loved writing, creative, imaginative, his job offered him little artistic elaboration, things were a certain way. He pondered over other positions offered, the one that caught his interest was in business, as a Regional Manager, the pay increase a step towards the wealthy dreams. They were comfortable, the money from his parent’s house paid the deposit for the new one and a chunk of the mortgage. Emilie deserved something spectacular, rather than a home ceremony, she gushed over the weddings at Von Haunts, the arch by the water, the beautiful gardens the bride would emerge from, this is what he wanted.

Rylan let loose his plans with the Mischief Makers; he needed them to distract Emilie at the weekend. Most were unaware of Emilie’s troublesome side, she possessed a certain charm, boosting their confidence and playing a game of dare. Emilie had no problem persuading Maesto to strip and take a jog through the park near their home. They locked the door, laughing as he stood naked on the porch keen to get back in, the neighbours observing with mixed horror and intrigue.

Rylan: His Perfect Woman

Emilie played the dutiful housewife; she maintained the house, paid the bills from their joint account and thrived on having some time alone. Her cooking, raw or burnt, experimenting with new recipes, all the effort that went into providing a meal for the man she loved. The food was inedible; Rylan teased how if they had a dog, it would turn down offerings, he made it up to her with a restaurant meal or takeaway pizza. It concerned her, Rylan began to notice a change in his waistline, Emilie kept herself fit by jogging, and her future husband seemed allergic to such activities. Opening up another cookbook, Emilie gripped it, determined to keep them both in check. 

Frustrated, Rylan leaned back in his chair questioning his decision, progression in this job was hard, the deadlines lingered, strict, uncompromising. As a freelancer, the freedom to set his own rules and deadlines, however, the steady pay check helped him buy a house and stabilised his struggling finances. He looked at the rigid life he had, Rylan hated the forced structure of school, go there, do this, the monotony of the everyday worker. They were pushing him towards team leader roles, Ziva had success pairing crucial feedback and praise, he considered this the way he should approach the situation. Rylan’s reputation for mischief, however, saw his reflection on a co-workers performance backfire. Their conversation began politely, friendly as Rylan moved to the issue of their work performance having lapsed. Confusion and anger followed as the co-worker struggled to comprehend Rylan, as he changed tactics at the end to praise the good they continued to do. The manager called him over after a complaint, putting it across that his management skills were lacking and a possible demotion may be in his future. 

Being a housewife was an act, Emilie loved to play, sweet innocent beauty hid her dark side. Rylan pranked predominantly friends and family, moments they found humorous and on other occasions, downright annoying. Emilie loved approaching strangers, mischievous intentions, using hand buzzer greets, preposterous rumours regarding gym shower woohoo and fake news involving a kitten trapped in air ducts at the bowling alley. Her antics met with strong disapproval, the gym-goers felt embarrassed, Emilie laughed; what she needed to complete her life, children. They, she hoped, would share her love of chaos. 

Home alone, Emilie found lots to keep her amused, she trolled forums adding controversial opinions, watching the commotion unfold as people argued over her comments. She had done a computer course at school, these skills Emilie honed, focusing on hacking peoples e-mails, sending rude messages to their contacts list. The hacking escalated quickly, Emilie created phishing e-mails to access accounts, and she accumulated small amounts over a few weeks, adding them to the joint account. Adding to the wedding fund this way seemed helpful, Emilie earned nothing from her voluntary work, however, her crime spree was short-lived, one account hacked previously, followed her trail and a larger sum taken as compensation.


Anxiously, Emilie waited, her future husband had financial ambitions, and he saw their current house as a stepping stone towards something greater. Emilie played her naive card, blaming some e-mail she thought was legit; the results impacted their bank account. Rylan comforted her; Ziva could implement some tougher security to protect them in future.  

Rylan: Leaping in…

Rylan slicked his hair into place; his floppy brown locks had remained unruly. Failing in his pursuit to make it look respectable, he hoped his new style would impress. Emilie had messaged him regarding his dinner plans, a subtle hint that she had been thinking of him all day. His parent’s favourite restaurant seemed the most appropriate choice, straightening his tie and checking his jacket pocket, Rylan psyched himself and practised what he wanted to say.

Emilie looked elegant; she wore the same white halter neck dress, her favourite, as she loved the simplicity. Rylan fidgeted in his chair, hot under his collar, feeling the clothes restricted his movements. Jumping up to greet her, the chair fell back, startling a waiter and other patrons, Rylan offered Emilie a hand, bringing her toward him as he dropped to one knee at the same time as rustling in his jacket for a small box. Words fell from his mouth in a quick garbled mess, the preparation lost. The few Emilie understood mentioned marriage and love. She needed little else from him, the single diamond nestled on the gold ring was enough for her to accept. Polite applause came from the neighbouring tables; Rylan gulped his wine to steady his nerves along with his relief.

They tucked into their food, talking excitedly about the future, the quiet, perhaps homely wedding they could have, a few friends and good food. Rylan pondered ideas to renovate his family home; both his mother and sisters’ bedrooms sat empty, unused, dusty and in need of a coat of paint and the lounge seemed dated. Her face fell, the prospect of living with Rylan was her dream, the house in which he currently resided was small, boxy and had been host to his parents, their lives filled the spaces and lacklustre energy. Taking her hand in realisation of her disappointment Rylan suggested an alternative, a large spacious house on the same street. It had a fenced area for children to play, a pool and there may even be room for a dog. Children, how many did he want? Two, Three, Five? Emilie pictured children running, giggling, while she cooked up a delicious Sunday dinner, or Rylan barbecuing, her stretched on a sun lounger, big floppy hat, oversized sunglasses and the children playing in the pool.

All the arrangements, the financial commitment was Rylan’s burden to carry as Emilie continued to enjoy her voluntary work. His heart weighed heavy, Rylan gave this home one final look, memories flooded in, his parents cuddling on the sofa, listening to he and Ziva bicker over whose turn it was to choose a film. The kitchen had played host to Jose, his cooking, all those meals he loved growing up. School projects, arguments and slamming doors, this place had embraced every minute. Aria’s weight machine had sat gathering dust he meant to sell it after she died since exercise was something he and Ziva hated. Emilie had been buying furnishings; she giving the delivery guys multiple orders, ensuring everything was perfect and in position. Their house was large, flooded with light and with a luxurious touch, Rylan stepped into his new life with anticipation.