THIRTY ONE - FEELING GUILTY

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The sun was setting by the time Mila and Melanie arrived back home. They had ended up staying out all day, Mila noticing how cheerful her mother seemed to be around her friends, a light laughter flowing from her lips in between sips of vanilla lattes and bites of cake.

Mila hadn't spoken to many of the people that had been spending time with them that day in years, at least nothing more than a polite hello as they walked past each other on the street, but she had enjoyed her day a lot more than she'd anticipated.

At first, the idea of having waves of people offering their condolences and forcibly reminding her of the death of her father seemed horrendous, though as people sat down and shared their happy memories of Jack Campbell, it made Mila's heart weld back together instead of break even more.

She had called Tony and told him that they'd be out of the house a little longer than they first thought, apologising for leaving Tristan in his care all day when Mila knew how much work Tony had to get done. Of course, Tony was quick to dismiss the apology, telling Mila and her mother to take as much time as they needed.

Although Mila still felt guilty about leaving Tristan with Tony for so long, she did feel better after spending the day with her mother. They had an hour just the two of them in the middle of the day where they spoke about mindless things, television and new music, make-up and shoes, the things they used to talk about a handful of years ago.

For that short while, Mila's life felt normal again. Having coffee with her mother and exchanging gossip in the corner of a cafe was the simplicity that she needed, the peace that her life had been missing since Tristan was born.

She loved her son, of course she did, but Mila had underestimated just how much of a toll being a single mother had burdened her soul with, finding relief in the smallest of things like that afternoon.

"Oh darling, look at that."

Melanie's voice was soft and calm and her gaze seemed to melt like the sunset as Mila parked the car on the driveway, following her mother's eyes towards the house.

Under the soft glow of a new moon and the dim lights from behind the windows of their home, Tony was sat on the porch swing with Tristan curled into his chest, rocking him back and forth.

Mila watched for a moment, feeling frozen as she watched Tony place a kiss on her son's forehead as he slept. There was a storybook face down on the swing beside them, as well as an empty cup of what was probably milk.

She instantly felt the guilt from the day intensify when she realised that Tony must've had a hard time getting Tristan to go to bed that night, having to resort to reading a story outside and rocking him to sleep like a baby.

"Isn't that lovely? He's so good with Tristan, isn't he?" Melanie said, smiling in awe at her grandson.

Mila swallowed, drawing in a sharp breath as she tried to shake off the anxiety and guilt swirling in the pit of her stomach.

"Y-yeah." She choked out quietly.

"What's wrong, Milena? Aren't you happy Tony's in your life? In Tristan's life?"

Mila nodded, blinking once to push back a couple of tears that had glossed over her eyes. She hadn't been particularly sad all day despite the heavy conversations she'd shared with an endless amount of people, but knowing that she'd forced Tony to deal with a difficult night with Tristan who wasn't his responsibility made her feel like the worst person in the world in that moment.

"I am," Mila replied, "I just...I feel bad. He didn't ask for this, he didn't ask to take on the role of a parent. He has a whole life in New York, I've seen it, and I can't understand why he'd want to leave all of that behind for me and Tristan. I feel like I've trapped him, like he's doing all of this because he feels like he owes me somehow, I-"

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