Part 3

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After visiting Lindsey, his health scare made Stevie think.

She had a perfectly good life, she had a family and all of a sudden she decided to walk away from everything. And for what? To be alone, most likely, for the rest of her life, occasionally seeing her daughters, when she wasn't on the road? Was it truly what she wanted?

Stevie didn't even realize, until she stopped to unlock the door, that she told the driver her home address, not the one of the apartment she had been staying at for now. She hesitated, walking inside. It was completely dark, because after all it was nearly three in the morning. While she was taking her boots off in the hallway, the older of her two girls came down the stairs, all sleepy, as she squinted her eyes, to make sure if the person in front of her, was really her mother.

"Why are you up, Gabi?" 

"Going for a glass of water. Why are you here though?" The sixteen year old asked back.

"Um... to be honest, I'm not sure. I... I want to talk to your father."

"At three in the morning?"

"Gabi..."

"Fine, whatever." She shrugged and went to the kitchen, leaving Stevie by herself.

Since the moment Stevie and Michael told their girls about them separating, both Gabi and Maria instantly sided with their Dad. They just didn't understand why their parents would want to divorce, because really, from aside, nothing was that wrong with them; they didn't argue, they didn't hate each other for anything, just... Not much of anything was left between them. 

Quietly, making her way up the stairs, Stevie went to the room, which used to be her and Michael's. She opened the door, finding him asleep. Again, wondering if there was any good reason to wake him up, she entered the bedroom, closing the door behind her, as she leaned against it for a moment. 

Walking up to the bed, she sat down, catching herself admiring him. Michael, even if in his sixties, was a handsome man. His hair had gone silver, but he still looked after himself, as staying fit had been important for him his whole life. 

A deep intake of air brought her back, as she had almost decided to leave, but Michael woke up, like he could feel her presence, even in his sleep. 

"Stevie?"

"It's me, yeah."

"What are you doing here?" He asked, sitting up, as he reached to switch the bedside lamp on.

"I don't know." She shrugged. "I left Lindsey and I got into a cab, gave this address."

"Is he okay?... are you okay?"

"He will be." Stevie wholeheartedly believed that.

"Do you want to talk or something?"

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For the way I spoke to you earlier and for how I have been speaking to you lately in general. I haven't been the nicest person to you and you don't deserve that. You've done not one thing wrong."

"Well, I don't take everything to heart, you know..." Michael half smiled. "I'd like to think I know you pretty well. I know when you mean what you say and not."

"Yeah, you do know me." Stevie nodded, then both of them fell silent. 

After a long silence, Michael asked. "Are we going to sit here for the rest of the night?"

"No. I just... I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do. I shouldn't have come here."

"If you did, I think you wanted to. I'm glad you're here."

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