Josh opens the front door quietly. He peeks inside: nobody seems to be around. He doesn't hear any noises. He steps inside and carefully shuts the door. The house is still, but there is light coming from the kitchen and main bedroom. He hangs his keys in the spot he's claimed next to the door and makes his way towards his room.

The light of the kitchen catches him and a gruff voice seeps from within. 'You don't have to sneak around, she's gone.'

Josh pauses in the passageway. 'Okay,' he says to his father, without turning. No reply comes, so Josh continues towards his room.

'There is a letter for you,' his father calls. 

Josh pauses at his bedroom door. A letter? Who sends letters? He backtracks towards the kitchen and peeks inside. 'Where is it?'

'Can't say hello to your old man first?' 

Kit's face is unshaven, silvery gray hairs prickling from his chin, unwashed hair curtaining his face. Sun spots bloom on his bronze cheeks. The alcohol has aged him beyond his years. Sharp grey eyes pierce Josh from behind the rim of a whiskey glass. The bottle on the table is half empty.

'Hello, old man.'

'It's on the table. Hope you don't need dinner.'

Josh grabs the envelope and leaves the room without further comment. He closes his bedroom door and rips open the letter. His eyes scan over the words, jaw dropping open. Josh falls back onto his bed and his hand falls across his face. He stares up at the ceiling, contemplating his own shock, then brings the letter back up to read again. 

A thick piece of paper between his fingers, the feeling of something beyond. His name, the words accepting him to college; and then follow the details of his full scholarship. Josh's chest surges with elation, dread, uncertainty. His hand reaches for his phone to call Fleur, but what would he tell her?

Just an hour ago they were planning their lives together, now this paper in his hand is threatening that plan. A full scholarship... Josh had always know his father would not pay for college. He had said it clearly himself. 'Soon as high school is over, you're on your own, kid.'

The letter sitting neatly in his fingertips is like gold. The job he'd have to work every day just to make ends meet? That wouldn't be necessary any more. He could study, actually spend time with books; find time in the words with something he loved. The time to pursue something that could make him money, so he would never have to struggle again. He could save up to buy Fleur a house, a house with a garden. 

Josh's hand falls flat against his bed and he lets out a sigh. Everything he had ever wanted had just been delivered as a bomb dressed in an elegant envelope.