Morning sunlight filtered through the living room as Shelley navigated her way to the kitchen, thoughts of breakfast for her guests swirling in her mind. She imagined herself alone in the quiet hall, but as she approached the kitchen, a figure caught her eye by the balcony—someone was already up, lost in thought.

Curiosity piqued, she tiptoed closer to discover Mr. Alexander seated in a chair, his back to her, a deep melancholic expression etched on his face. She stood there for a moment, unsure whether to interrupt his solitude.

Finally, she cleared her throat gently. "Is everything alright, Mr. Alexander? Do you need anything?"

Startled, he turned to face her. "Oh, dear! No, I'm fine. Just woke up early and thought I’d enjoy some fresh air." A shadow of concern crossed his features. “Did I startle you?”

“Not at all, sir,” she replied, though a hint of worry tugged at her heart.

Relieved, he looked back out over the city, lost in his thoughts once more. Shelley wrapped her night robe tightly around her as a brisk breeze nipped at her skin, joining him on the balcony.

As she sat by him she studied him, noting the dark circles under his eyes. “The weather seems perfect for a cosy day in bed, don’t you think?”

He nodded, a small smile flickering for a moment, but it quickly faded as the weight of his thoughts returned.

Shelley noticed and continued her questioning. "If you agree then why are you up at this time?"

“Well..., he began hesitating. "I just can’t shake these worries… my sons.” He sighed deeply, his voice a mix of sadness and regret. “It’s hard knowing they harbour such resentment toward me. All I want is a chance to make things right, but it feels impossible.”

"I am not worried about Scott, but with Ben, it's different."

Shelley leaned forward, her interest piqued. “You think Ben truly hates you?”

“Maybe. And I can’t entirely blame him,” he admitted, gaze drifting away. “After my divorce from his mother, I was blinded by my own issues. I didn't even apologise to them for what I put them through. I knew coming here would be difficult, but… my ex-wife convinced me it was best. Look at the mess it’s caused.”

Shelley felt a wave of empathy wash over her. She searched for words that might bring him comfort. “Mr. Alexander, I honestly believe Ben still cares about you in his own way. Time is essential. Yes, the hurt is there, but beneath it, I see love. Just keep being the man you’ve become. Show him the change—it might take a while, but don’t lose hope.” She offered a gentle smile, holding his gaze with sincerity.

Just then, a voice broke the moment. “Is everything alright here?”

They turned together to find Scott standing behind them, concern etched on his face.

“Everything's fine, Scott,” Shelley replied, standing up. “I was just having a chat with my father-in-law. But now that you’re here, I’ll let you two talk. I need to prepare breakfast.”

Scott’s face lit up with a smile. “Do you need help?”

“No, I’ve got it covered.” As she walked past him, he called out, “Oh, and I meant to congratulate you on your pregnancy! Ben didn’t mention anything. Congratulations! I know you’ll be a wonderful mother.”

Shelley felt warmth spread through her at his words. “Thank you,” she said, her heart full as she moved away, leaving Scott and his father to share a moment that might just be the beginning of healing.

***

A week had trudged by since his father last graced his home, and today, Ben found himself hesitating at the door of Scott's apartment, his hand poised to knock yet burdened by uncertainty. Ever since his father moved to stay with his stepbrother during his visit to this country, Ben knew a conversation was overdue. But now that he stands there, he can’t shake the nagging thought that perhaps this visit was a mistake.

With a deep breath and a long sigh, he finally rapped his knuckles against the door. After what felt like an eternity, the door swung open, revealing his dad with an expression that flickered between surprise and warmth.

"Ben! You are here."

"Hey, Dad. Is it okay if I come in?"

"Of course!" He stepped aside, and they navigated the cosy living room to the couch.

“How have you and your wife been?” Mr Alexander asked, settling into a familiar chair.

“We're doing fine, Dad. And you?” he replied, intrigued to see how his father was faring.

"I’m good, just trying to adjust to this weather," his dad said, a hint of a frown creasing his brow.

Ben chuckled. “Give it a few weeks; you’ll be acclimated before you know it.” His dad nodded, but there was a shadow of something else lurking behind that smile.

“Can I get you something to drink?” his father offered, eager to play the gracious host.

“No thanks,” Ben replied, his eyes wandering. “Where’s Scott?”

“Oh, he and his mom went to the supermarket. They’ll be back soon. Were you hoping to see him?”

“Actually, no. I came to talk to you,” he admitted, gauging his father's reaction.

“Really?” Mr. Alexander’s surprise was palpable, his attention suddenly sharpened.

Ben found a comfortable position and took a moment to gather his thoughts. “I was curious about how things are going for you back home—your teaching, the art gallery… everything.”

Mr. Alexander’s expression faltered for just a beat, but he quickly masked it with a cheerful facade. “Oh, it’s been good. I’ve been doing some home teaching for kids whose parents want extra classes. It may not be glamorous, but it helps keep the gallery afloat.”

“And how’s the gallery doing? Any profits?” Ben pressed gently, watching closely.

“Not much, but I refuse to give up on it. I am not worried. I am sure it will pick up soon,” his father replied, determination flashing in his eyes.

As Ben glanced at his father’s eyes, he sensed the hidden worries lying beneath the surface. Mr. Alexander’s reassuring words did little to dispel the anxiety thrumming in Ben’s veins. He knew his dad was sparing him details, likely about money troubles—the usual culprit of his father’s secret struggles. His mother had confided that his dad had been in a dark place lately, which made Ben all the more determined to dig deeper.

Their conversation flowed until the door creaked open, and in bounced Scott, followed closely by his mother.

“Hey, guys! You’re back!” Mr. Alexander called out with renewed energy.

“Ben! You’re here!” Scott’s face lit up the room when his eyes landed on him, and he rushed over.

“Yep, but I can’t stay long. I have a pregnant wife waiting at home,” Ben said, standing up.

“But your Mom and Mr. MarQueen are with her! Please stay for dinner!” Scott exclaimed, his eyes wide with hope. “My Mom was just about to cook!”

Ben’s father and his wife exchanged eager glances, silently urging him to stay. Behind their backs, Scott leaned in conspiratorially, whispering, “Please don’t leave me alone with them.”

Ben couldn’t help but chuckle at his brother's plea. “Alright, I’ll stay for dinner.”

The sheer joy that radiated from Scott was contagious, filling the room with warmth and a hint of relief as they settled in for an evening together.