SPLINTERED WOOD & SEA WATER

She couldn't help but narrow her eyes at him when he said 'did you hear that? team', practically rolling her eyes in a playful, exasperated kind of way. It really had felt that way, once upon a time, and she idly wondered whether it ever would again, however different it looked now. Leyla didn’t look up right away, focused on adjusting the tissue paper like it was a matter of life or death. She felt the glitter move and knew instantly. Her hand hit the table a second too late, landing on nothing but air where the jar had been. "You have got to be kidding me," she muttered, whipping her head around just in time to see it flying over his shoulder like it was trash instead of joy in powdered form. She blinked once. Twice. "You really just threw it again, huh?" She muttered finally, half in disbelief, half in defeat. She didn't chase after it, not this time. Mostly because when she looked up, he was already busy — pulling things into the basket, squinting at candy wrappers like he was trying to decipher ancient runes. It shouldn't've surprised her, but it did.

"All kids deserve sugar.. sometimes," she said matter-of-factly. "And toys, and glitter. But clearly we can't have nice things." Then she made the mistake of glancing sideways, realising that he was just.. standing right there. Next to her. Really close. Too close. Her hands stilled, staring at him, nearly doe-eyed, as he threw her that little smirk like he hadn’t just been annoying on purpose. "Um," she swallowed, entirely lost for words as she somehow managed to pull her gaze away, nodding in the general direction of one of the resource stations nearby. "Yeah. There's some toys at that station just over there."

Despite practically feeling her seethe next to him the task at hand was carried on. "You have lots of nice things, Leyla," he said offhand, not even offered a glance, and the meaning very layered. Taner filled plastic eggs with candy and maybe played with the little Hot Wheels car for a moment, sound effects and all, before he crashed it into the basket and grinned stupidly at Leyla for a moment. "See, that's why these kids need toys over sugar." His own comment caving in on itself a half second later when he spotted one of her baked goods — "Ohh, those look good," Taner reached out for it, "do you have more of these?" To her directions, though, he did get up and grab a couple more toys.

When he returned just a few minutes later Taner dumped the items on the table and looked over at her proudly. She seemed almost mortified by something and wouldn't look his way, kept wiping at her nose. Seeing that Leyla had somehow gotten powdered sugar on her face he was doing everything in his power to bite his tongue. Taner was bursting at the seams with his smirk. "Aren't you supposed to be a professional?" With an action way too casual for the current climate between them Taner took her jaw in his hand and turned her head to face him. A small laugh bubbled up, he couldn't help it. "Goddamn you look cute. When I asked if you had more treats I didn't know you were gonna dress yourself up," he teased just before his thumb lightly brushed her nose.

❝ ⸻ Oh yeah? ❞ The interest he cast toward Taner was framed with restraint and hesitation. A different, off-shade than what he had cast in the one conversation years before when the man next to him had been seeking a way to connect with his child. Guilt spilt from his eyes as he peered at Taner and recognized just how much of a man he'd become. The hair was longer, the stubble was thicker, and the man himself was broadened by hard work and physical labor. That bone deep sadness he always carried in his eyes had even grown; something Niko hadn't thought possible. ❝ Did you think New York? ❞ Humoring the moment, perhaps falling into the intrigue, couldn't be helped.

He'd always liked Niko and for that fever dream that seemed to be New York they'd bonded fairly well despite all the differences between them. He was a good man, smart, and Taner had actually been shocked to hear about the divorce and the reason behind it.

Thankfully, right about the time Niko's comment about being home came out his drinks were being set in front of him. Taner grabbed the shot first and threw it back without really even taking a moment. When he'd set the shot glass down empty, he'd tipped his head at the bartender. "It is," Taner's strong shoulder's shrugged, "but it's not really about me. I'll survive. I'll deal with it." Which was the truth, Taner was prepared to weather anything. Though, it was nice to be acknowledge, and that said a lot about the type of person Niko was.

"Damn, man... still lookin' sharp, those nice suits and expensive watch. You haven't really changed." His eyes were moving over the man beside him, taking him in and cataloging the differences in seven years. "You look... happier though, more relaxed. Maybe more settled into life?"

"I do love it. There's a sense of accomplishment that I haven't felt with anything else. It's chaos and a mess, but that's also the fun of it. I once had a groom's mistress come to object during the wedding. Where else does that happen?" It was horrific in the moment but now that there was time and distance between now and then, she found the humor in it. "I've heard my mother describe parenting at the most frightening thing." She didn't know if he'd run or stayed away because of fear but she was just repeating it in case it did ring true for him. "You probably have a lot to make up for but if you're willing to stick it out then it's not too late to have that relationship. They are very forgiving and you're her father, I don't know that there's anything that you can do that will change that connection. Do you think you're ready to fully step up? It's easier said than done and I can't even imagine how hard it is to be a parent, I'd be shitting myself."

Taner lightly scratched his fingers against his light beard, thoughtfully considering her comments. "Past lifes, huh? I don't really know about any of that stuff. I am trying to end the bad cycles now, though. Been working on it these last few years of my life." He needed to be worthy of something, he needed to be a father to a daughter.

A small laugh came up and Taner nodded. "That's good then. You'll be power walking and doing yoga around the senior home while I'll likely be a sloth with a cane." The years had been hard on him, both by lifestyle and profession.

When she talked about her love for her work it pleased him to know she found happiness and fulfillment in that. She'd come across as such a genuine person and deserving of that. Taner's brow lifted and so did his smile when she shared some drama from one of her weddings. He whistled, then, "how'd that end up? Did the wedding get called or did she get kicked out and he got his bride despite the infidelity?"

Sharing her mother's sentiments on parenting transported Taner back to the moment he'd found out he was going to be a father. It had troubled him so much, to the point where he needed to leave, even if everyone had thought it were the worst move. "The idea of being a father still terrifies me, for sure. It's just not something that's going to hold me back anymore. But thank you for saying that," he tipped his head, "that its not too late." Well adjusted and accepting of the fact that it was still going to be a lot of work ahead of him, Taner was actually ready to take that on now. "So you never wanted children? Or don't?" He was taking earlier comments into account as well but was curious on further thoughts about it. "I'm resolute. No matter how difficult or easy, I'm going to be there for my child."

Despite the negative connotation in her voice, there was an amused smile on her face as she looked up at him- he knew exactly what he was doing and she was certain that if she didn't find her mother by the end of the day she'll have already learned more about Taner than Sahra herself knew and would probably be planning their wedding. The wedding, her anne constantly reminded her, that was stolen from her when Kyle broke her heart.

A very unladylike snort of a laugh left Sahra's lips at his words, her head shaking ruefully. "Nah, no line. No one wants damaged goods, you know?" She mused, though adding humor to a very real fear of hers was the only way she knew how to deal with it. What if she'd wasted her chance at her happily ever after by choosing the wrong man all those years ago? What if her very public and embarrassing breakup scared anyone remotely interested in her away? Would she be alone forever? Could she get by with just cats for company? For a moment the panic seized her, her insecurities threatening to pull her beneath a wave of doubt, but she quickly shook them off. Now wasn't the time. "Besides, where's the fun in settling down when your mom wants you to?"

Tilting her head back to flash him a wide smile, Sahra continued to move with him, her steps synching up to his as they walked in tandem. "Are you trying to talk me out of loving you? Would you rather adoration? Thinly veiled contempt? Shameless ogling? I was on Broadway after all, I can do them all." She teased, her hip bumping against his playfully. "Does the drink involve alcohol? Because yes please. I don't know if you can hear it from your place, but I'm a firm believer in loud music and wine being a magic cure-all for anything. Including meddling mothers."

A frown scrunched his forehead at Sahra's damaged goods comment, and his dark eyes naturally went to move over her as she clung to his side while they walked. Taner was still kind of holding her there but that was neither here nor there. It was like he was assessing for actual physical damage, or trying to spot some glaring flaw. He came up empty. "Then I guess my chances are shot too then. But... how are you damaged goods exactly?" If life was keeping a tally on Taner the negatives column had farm more marks in it than the positives. "She's just looking for grandkids. Which, if we get fictionally married, you can be a stepmom."

When she looked up at him, that smile on her pretty face, he found himself enjoying looking into her blue eyes. It was nice to look upon a face that didn't absolutely loathe his existence. "I'm used to contempt so I suppose that's my comfort zone. We can try the others... allow you to flex that Broadway muscle." That petite hip bumping him eased a smile onto his face and his arm around her shoulders naturally dropped to her waist. His hand loosely gripped and rested against her hip. "Definitely alcohol," Taner confirmed with a nod. "The whole neighborhood knows you worship loud music. In fact, we're all concerned for your hearing. I know nothing about wine or mothers, though." Maybe that was why the music was always blasting. She was wine drunk and going deaf.

Leyla blinked, stunned for a half-second like she couldn't quite believe he could believe she was the one with attitude. But the rest of his comeback landed — and hard. She stared at him for a moment, open-mouthed, somewhere between wanting to laugh and wanting to punch him (jokingly). "Did you just say I squatted over your plate?" Her nose wrinkled. "Disgusting." The moment of nostalgia left her so shook, it took her a moment longer than it should've to realise that he'd flicked the damn glitter tub off the table. "Taner!" her voice pitched up like a threat, sharp with disbelief. She actually reached out like she might stop it mid-air, but it was already too late. She resisted the sudden urge to throw a plastic egg at his head.

Thankfully, an older woman passing by paused as the glitter tub caught her eye on the floor. With a small, amused hum, she bent to retrieve it and turned back to their table, holding it out with both hands like it was something sacred. "Oops! Looks like you two dropped a little magic," she said cheerfully, placing it back on the table as her gaze landed on the half-finished basket and her whole face lit up. "Well now, look at this — what a beautiful basket! You make such a great team." She smiled, utterly sincere, and Leyla could only feel her lips form a tighter line. Awkward. "Wouldn't want to lose the sparkle that brings it all together, would you?" Leyla stared at her in silence for a beat, then slowly turned back to Taner with a smug smile. "No, we wouldn't." She gave them both a warm, encouraging nod before moving along, clearly pleased with her contribution.

Despite being bothered by Leyla trying to force the glitter on him, his eyes only narrowed. Taner had to pick his battles and this wasn't the hill he wanted to die on. At least until she removed her hand when she began fluffing up the paper. Swiftly the glitter jar was swiped and tossed casually over his shoulder when Leyla was too focused on what she was doing. "I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about," he still claimed innocence and busied his hands with grabbing items to stuff in the basket. Some of the candy was eyed over and examined, he made a face, and then stood up right next to her and unconsciously shifted closer as he arranged the items in the basket. "So, the goal is to load up sick kids with sugar?" Taner found a couple of fidget spinners and added them. "You see anymore toys around here?" When he turned to look at her it was then he realized just how close they'd gotten. Rather than back away a little smile played on his lips.

But she lets herself hold the gaze between them. Because this moment, unlike so many others in her past, don’t demand armor. Not with Taner.

“You know,” she says after a pause, voice softer now, “I spent so long convincing myself I had to fight to earn back what I lost. Like if I could just say the right thing, do the right thing, be the right thing… it would all fall back into place.” She shakes her head slowly, not with frustration, but realization. “But hearing you talk about Leyla—about how she ran from you? about how you still showed up anyway?—I think I get it now. It’s not about fighting to win them back. It’s about proving we’re still showing up, even when we’re not welcome. Even when they’re not ready to face us.”

Her mouth quirks at the edge, bittersweet. “That kind of love isn’t about getting what you want. It’s about being who you promised you’d be, even when it hurts.”

She exhales a quiet laugh when he talks about Shane being embarrassed, her face tilting toward the table in reluctant amusement. “Yeah. It was a bad look, wasn’t it?” she mutters, more to herself than to him. “God, the irony. He was never even mine to claim—my father always made that clear. But in that moment, I just… I wanted to undo the distance. One lie, one label—" ‘wife’ "— and I thought I could pull us back to what we were. That if I could just pause the world for a second, I could remind him of who I was before the damage I caused.”

Her voice dips again. “But it doesn’t work like that. He’s not frozen in time. Neither is Elijah.”

At Taner’s mention of how things can never go back to how they were, Sonny nods—though her throat tightens at the truth of it. “I know,” she says after a beat. “And maybe that’s the hardest part. Knowing we’ll never get the original version of those people—or those moments—again. We burned those bridges and even if we build new ones, the view on the other side’s going to be different. Maybe better. Maybe just… different.”

Then at his mention of Elijah, her whole body shifts—just slightly, like a fault line underneath her shifts and she's trying not to fall into it.

“I’ve seen him,” she says, voice catching briefly on the edge of it. “Twice now. First time was when I followed him and Shane to the school drop-off line. I stayed in the car, obviously. But I saw him run ahead, backpack bouncing, yelling something about a science project. And God, Taner, he looks like me. Not just my features, either—it’s the way he moves. The way he scrunches up his face when he’s thinking. Like a little mirror I didn’t know I’d left behind or existed until I saw it.”

She swallows hard, carefully. Then continues.

“The second time was at the grocery store. I was just… in the same aisle. Frozen, stupidly, holding a jar of pasta sauce like it was some kind of weapon. He looked right at me.” Her eyes lift to Taner’s, wide but not frantic. “And I swear to God, it was like something shifted in his face. Not recognition, not exactly. But a pause. Like he was trying to match something he couldn’t quite name.”

She presses a palm against her sternum like the memory still echoes there. “I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t. Shane came back around the corner, and I panicked. I had to leave before he saw me. So, I just ducked down another aisle and left the store entirely. I felt like a ghost. A cowardly, unworthy ghost.”

There’s a silence between them that isn’t uncomfortable—just dense. Necessary.

“I don’t know what I’ll say when the moment finally comes. I don’t even know if I should be the one to start it. I want to be a part of his life so badly it feels like it’s eating me alive some days. But I also don’t want to show up and rip his world open just so I can feel better. That's not fair to him either.”

Then, as if she's scared her own confession will tip her into despair, she breathes in, steadies, and lifts her gaze again.

“You playing the guitar for Billie? That’s… God, Taner, that’s so sweet. It might just mean everything. That’s what she’ll remember, at least. Not whether your beard was trimmed, or whether you said all the right things. It’ll be that you made music for her. That she saw you trying to be something in front of her, not just say something.”

A small smile blooms slowly again, like dawn behind cloud cover.

“You said the heart’s greedy. And you’re right. But I think it’s also smarter than we give it credit for. It knows where home is. Even when our minds forget.”

She lifts her glass again, almost out of habit this time. “To building new bridges, even if they don’t look like the old ones. To not letting fear do all the talking. And to making music for our kids, even when the strings are rusty. Or in my case, I don't know how to play.”

Her smile lingers this time, honest and without pretense. “We’re going to be okay,” she repeats his words back to him, quiet but certain now. “Because we have to be. Because we’re showing up. And that has to count for something.”

Then, with one last flicker of her signature wryness, she adds, “And because you’re too damn stubborn to give up. And I’m too damn reckless to walk away.” The clink of her glass meeting his this time feels heavier. Like a promise—not of perfection, but of persistence.

That kind of love isn't about getting what you want.

No truer words had ever been spoken in Taner's opinion. "I think I've just had a different view of love throughout my life from my outsider vantage point," a faint, wistful smile conveyed a sad acceptance of his lot in life, "people are really selfish about it." Too many times he'd seen abuse, manipulation, exertions of control all doled out in the name of love.

"People also tend to overthink emotion and those two things couldn't be further from bedfellows if you'd tried. Love isn't logical, and our own minds distort and doctor reality because it's sole mission is to keep us alive and safe. Which often means protecting us from the emotions we feel." That was why the saying was to follow your heart, not your thoughts. The psyche could be a toxic place.

There was a cold loneliness that settled in Taner's chest as she explained her position and her actions when she'd caught Shane on a date. He couldn't promise that he would've reacted or acted any better in a moment like that, even more he could sympathize with the desperate act. The problem was the hearts of their loved ones had changed while they were still frozen at the moment they'd lost everything they'd valued.

"I think when they see us now we're just a reminder of the pain we caused. Memory remembers pain more than it does happiness."

Even if it was heartbreaking for Sonny, it was happier to move on to listening to her talk about the times she'd seen her son. The moment he'd looked at her in the grocery store gripped his heart because Taner knew that moment. He'd experienced it himself. When he and Billie had first connected on FaceTime she'd had a similar reaction, then a few minutes later in conversation she'd outright asked him.

"I was scared as hell, too. When I first came face to face with my daughter. It was such a shock and a surprise I wasn't sure what to say or how to react but we just started talking and I let her control the pace." A soft smile appeared at the memory and hope bloomed in his chest when he peered at Sonny across the table. Pain and heartbreak was written into every expression she made and every uncomfortable shift of her body. The weight of all that emotion was incredibly difficult to carry. "I think he's gonna want your love, attention, and affections so much that he's going to cling to you. He's just a boy and even if he's scared at first... kids just want love."

The last call had now become a shout and Taner's attention pulled away to look to the bar and then the space around them. Aside from the staff they were the last people there. He shifted but hadn't made to get up yet. With his wallet free of his back pocket Taner added some cash to the table, a nice tip for holding up the people that had been working hard on their feet all night.

"I've been writing her some songs. Pulled out my old acoustic," his smile is genuine and happy, for maybe the first time in the trenches of this emotional conversation. Being in her company, having a friend that understands... priceless. Most of all he appreciated not being judged. His eyes lifted from the cash to meet her emerald hues, he lifted his glass with a tired grin and tipped his head in a nod. "I can teach you how to play," he offered, brow lifted, "but I'm sure you have your own talents."

Their glasses clinked together with such force, by his hand, that Taner worried they'd break. "Here, here! To being stubborn and reckless!" Even though his glass had long been empty, Taner had still gone through the motions. Once it was returned to the table he shifted toward exiting the booth. "We better get before they try to physically throw us out and I wouldn't do well with anyone putting hands on me," he winked. There was that stubborn and reckless alright.

"Don't be a stranger," Taner insisted, holding his hand out to help Sonny up from the booth. "You're the only friend I've got in this damn town. Come on, let me walk you to your car."

“I didn’t hit her,” she assures him while rolling her eyes at herself. “God, I wanted to. But no, I didn’t. So, you know… progress I guess.” Her voice is laced with a bitter kind of humor, self-aware and unflinchingly honest. “I just… I panicked, you know? Saw her walk up looking like some woman who stepped out of a Stepford Wives Weekly catalogue and suddenly I was back in every moment I didn’t fight hard enough for the people I loved. And instead of doing the sane thing—like leaving, or waiting until he wasn’t on a goddamn date—I just… stepped in. Told her I was his wife. Instead of just the mother of his child.”

She winces. Not just at the memory, but at what it revealed about her in the moment. “And he looked at me afterward, like I’d stolen something from him. Not in anger, not really. Just… in betrayal. Disappointment. I think that's what hurt the most.”

Sonny takes a sip of the bourbon now—finally—and grimaces slightly at the burn. But she lets it settle in her chest, in her stomach, grounding her. “He didn’t say he would never talk to me again. Didn’t say much of anything, really. Just walked away after the conversation ended.” Her eyes find Taner’s again. “But I saw it in his face. The way he went stiff. Like I’d become a stranger to him, he couldn’t afford to look at for too long.”

There’s a pause, then a shrug. “That’s why I don’t know if I’ll get the chance to explain myself to him. It’s not that I think he’d deny me the words—it’s whether he’ll actually listen to them. Whether he can get past the wreckage enough to see I’m not trying to twist the knife in his chest. I’m just trying to lay it all out there so we can maybe move past it.” She looks away for a beat, breathing through the knot in her throat. “What do I see in him, though?” she echoes his question, quieter now. “Aside from everything, like my whole future? I see a man who loved our son enough to become someone better for him. I see the way he used to wait up for me, no matter how late I got home. How he never raised his voice unless it was in defense of someone else. And yeah, he’s stubborn, and careful, and sometimes maddeningly quiet when I need words. But he’s steady. Loyal. And when he held me again for the first time in seven years—even if it just a second—it was like my bones remembered him before my heart had the nerve to.”

She closes her eyes for a moment, then opens them again, sharper now. Calmer. “Maybe that’s what terrifies me the most. That I’ll never stop loving him. Even if he’s long past loving me.” At his words about love though—about God, and giving without expectation—Sonny smiles again. Not because she’s healed or hopeful or even entirely convinced it's all true, but because Taner had said something real. Something that pulled the truth out of her chest before she could even stop it. “Yeah,” she murmurs. “I think you’re right. Love’s a verb. And we don’t all learn it the right way, or at the right time. But if we keep showing up... maybe that’s what counts. Maybe that's what matters.”

Her expression softens completely at his mention of Billie again, and the faint sting she notices behind his eyes. “She’s lucky, Taner,” she emphasizes the truth again, but gentler this time. “Not because you’re perfect. But because you give a damn. And if that little girl knows that—which, I'm sure she does—she’s gonna carry that for the rest of her life. That kind of love… it doesn’t leave you or just disappear because you do.”

At his last words—about not wanting to lose her—Sonny’s gaze doesn’t flinch away. She simply nods once, instead. “You won’t,” she promises. “I’m here. For real this time. And I don’t say that to anyone lightly.” She reaches across the table then, if only briefly, to squeeze his hand once before letting go. Not possessive. Not in any needy way. Just to express a physical form of her earlier promise. “Alright, pact it is,” she says, lifting her glass. “To screwing up a little less. To showing up even when its hard. And to trying again even when our instincts are encouraging us to run.”

Then as a sly grin returns to her face, just for a heartbeat, she adds: “And to not punching women or men who accidentally date our exes.” She clinks her glass to his, and for the first time in a long time, the toast doesn’t feel like a lie or a fake.

The proof is in the way, Sonny's smile lingers after the toast, before her expression softens again as something catches up to her—his daughter. She sets her glass down gently, eyes narrowing just a tad—not with judgment, but in that way she gets when something hits her somewhere deep and maternal. “Wait—a minute,” she processes his earlier words, leaning forward just slightly. “You FaceTimed her?”

There’s no judgment, no teasing—just a warmth and a quiet awe woven throughout her voice. Eventually her body tilts toward him, her elbows rest on the table, and there’s no joking behind her eyes—just that warm, open gravity she reserves for the things that truly matter. “That’s not just some casual update, Taner. That’s… huge.” Her eyes search his, voice low and steady, like she’s trying to make sure this part doesn’t get lost in the noise of everything else.

“You let her see you. All of you. Not some perfect version of you that you had to put on to impress her, not a man with all the right words to say I'm sure. Just you. And yeah, maybe it cracked you open a little—but to her? That might’ve been the first real connection she’s had with you. Something she can hold onto forever. Kids don’t need perfection sometimes. They just need presence.” She lets that sit between them for a second, but then her gaze shifts again—deeper, more intent—as her thoughts catch up to the part of Taner’s story that’s still hanging heavy in the air. “And I get why that was hard. God, of course it was. You didn’t have anyone showing up for you like that. You were just… left to figure it all out by yourself. You grew up in a house that treated you like a transaction. Like a burden. Believe me, I get that more than most." Her own father treated her like a weapon, like a pawn in his political and criminal empire. "That messes with the way you love people. Makes you think you have to earn space or stay small just in order to survive it.”

Her eyes start to shine a bit, but she doesn't look away from him. If anything, she holds his gaze steadier now. “You survived that. We both did. And still—you’re trying to be better for her. You’re learning to show up for someone the way no one ever did for you. That’s not easy, Taner. But, it's just another example of why you're not the failure you might think you are or have been lead to believe you might be."

Then, with a flicker of a smirk just to ease the weight on both their chests, she adds gently, “Still won't excuse if you showed up to a FaceTime with her sporting bedhead and a three-day beard, though. I hope you shaved and at least tried to look like someone she can brag about.” But behind the tease, her smile is full of something real. Respect, admiration, maybe even hope—for the both of them.

Their reasons for leaving their partners and children were different and Taner knew that he'd lost, or given up, any rights to fight for Leyla. His determination was to not interfere with the life she'd built for herself in his absence.

"I think he was in shock, Sonny," was his reply when she regaled him of their first interaction. "Not just in seeing you, I can imagine it was mostly that, but it might've embarrassed him as well. It's a bad look for a married man to be trying out a date with someone else and get caught in the act." Taner laughed a little because outside of the scene and that moment it'd gone down it was funny. "Plus I'm sure you know us men process emotions very differently than you women do. And to be honest... neither of us can expect our former partners to be happy to see us after the ways in which we'd left..."

Secure in the fact that Sonny knew those things Taner's words were more to serve as a reminder so that she hopefully wouldn't overthink too much or find herself in a downward spiral. None of what they had ahead of them was going to be easy or without processing lots of pain.

"Leyla ran away from me when I first saw her," he admitted, also allowing it to be known she really wasn't alone any step of the way. "We literally ran into each other and it was just shock and hurt and her unable to get away from me fast enough. I had to do a follow up, ask her to sit and chat, and that didn't go well either." A certain resignation settled into his features as he rested back in the booth. Neither of them had something hopeful to offer the other and while he knew neither had the right to it, it still really sucked.

"It's gonna take time," Taner offered after she shared her fears that Shane might not ever truly hear her out and understand. "There's that whole thing about it taking years to build trust and less than a second to shatter it or whatever... it's never gonna be just right again. That's the shitty part... it can never be what it was again." That was a cold, hard fact he'd spent the last seven years away at sea accepting. "Just like Leyla is protective over our child she raised on her own, I can imagine Shane's gonna be the same... so it's not even just themselves and their own hearts they have to be cautious with. It's our children, too."

The smile he conjured was bittersweet as Sonny went on to say what she saw in Shane and it'd sounded like she'd found in him what she'd been wanting her whole life up to that point. It was again strikingly similar to Taner's experience with Leyla. She was his only experience at genuine love and happiness. "At least you experienced that and had that. I understand how badly you want to have it back... the heart is greedy as fuck," he chuckled lowly, "but I truly believe that if you continue to love and show up they'll feel that. Maybe his heart will open to you again. I get it, though, it feels like we've already waited so long so to have to continue to be patient is..." His head simply shook.

For a moment he sat with Sonny's words saying that Billie was lucky, and he truly felt his daughter was. From what he could gather Leyla had built a wonderful community around their daughter and he was happy she was so safe and well loved. He just struggled with accepting any positive in regards to himself because he hadn't been apart of any of that. He'd tried, but maybe not hard enough. The guilt was so crushing on his shoulders.

When Sonny squeezed his hand with confidence and reassurance a smile twitched at his lips and he turned his hand and gave her a squeeze in return. A solidarity thing. I've got you, too. He rose his empty glass and tipped his head as she spoke on and laid out the pact. "Here, here," he called, louder but still just between them. "To just keep trying and showing up, and to not punching or ex's romantic interests." His eyes briefly narrowed and Taner gave her a pointed look, a tease since he'd felt she was more on the verge of that than him.

Just as he'd assumed, Sonny got it. She understood why he'd shared his childhood history and the harm it'd done to his adult self attempting to be someone responsible in love when it had been so foreign to him. It was an acknowledgment he hadn't realized he'd needed so much up until she respected his struggle. That wasn't something that made him feel lighter, because he hated that Sonny could understand it in her own ways, but he did feel seen.

"Thank you," he said quietly, eyes holding hers. "Not just for saying that but for seeing it, speaking on it... for understanding it." The psyche didn't work quite as fast and it would take more time for him to stop beating himself up and calling himself a failure. But this marked the first time that someone recognized his struggle and didn't give him a free pass because he had a tough childhood but respected the fact that he was fighting and trying. Taner was learning and doing better step by step.

"We're going to be okay. You know that, right?" He shifted forward and rested his forearms on the table between them. "Because we're survivors. Whatever is in store for us we'll weather the storms. You didn't make it through everything you have for no reason, you are quite literally one of the toughest, most resilient people I've ever met. And I work on a rig in the North Sea." There was some light laughter.

"I didn't look as bad as I could've looked," he joked, his hand smoothed over his jaw and rubbed at the light beard there. "I always cleaned up a bit before I tried calling Leyla again, and then when Billie... yeah, for sure then. But I did make sure she knew how cool her dad is. Played a song for her and everything on the guitar."

It seemed they were both in that teetering place, where the next drop into their situations was to physically meet their children. "Have you only encountered Elijah from a distance, no interactions with him yet?" He wondered if it would be like Billie recognizing him without being told. She knew who her father was on sight. Would it be the same with Elijah, would he recognize his mother if he spotted Sonny in the same room as him?

Leyla couldn't help but scoff as he took the glitter away like it personally offended him, her hand hovered mid air. She blinked at the sudden pettiness of it, then slowly turned her head toward him, eyes narrowed. "Who peed in your cereal this morning, hmm?" she asked flatly. "What's next, you gonna ban pastel too?" Without hesitation, Leyla leaned over him to reclaim the glitter with zero shame. It should've been satisfying, petty even — but then came that scent. Sea air and something warmer underneath, one that was too familiar for comfort. She hesitated, just for a second, something catching in her throat that she couldn't quite explain. Then when she came to her senses, she grabbed the jar, sliding it back across the table with just enough force to make a point, like she was daring him to touch it again.

Honestly, what had she done to deserve this? Well... She could think of a billion things, if she were honest, but still, she couldn't believe her luck. When Taner said once more, with feeling, Leyla instantly let out a sharp exhale through her nose. "Allah, allah.." she muttered, under her breath, but not really under her breath. "You think you're so—" she cut herself off and flicked a glance at him. And of course he was grinning. That grin; the one that should've come with a warning label. Leyla rolled her eyes so hard it nearly gave her a headache, but the corner of her mouth did twitch. Just for a second, juuuust enough to betray her, 'cause he knew exactly what he was doing. "Stop that," she snapped, looking away and busying herself now with the basket.

When she made the move to reclaim the glitter she completely caught him off guard. They were incredibly close and her body stretched over him. It was a moment that had caused them both to freeze. Taner hadn't leaned back either, he could smell the sunshine on her skin. His hands shifted as though he was about to reach out and steady her but he caught the reflex before it could get him into trouble. The nostalgia she left in her wake when she moved back into her chair had his heart beating so fast. But... he had a point to make, too. Taner leaned into her, his shoulder pressed into the side of Leyla's body, and he reached out and flicked the damn jar right off the table. "No glitter," he said low, controlled, and easy before he righted himself.

The shoulder between them dipped slightly and he turned his head toward her again, that half-smirk, half-grin planted on his lips as he captured her gaze the second she tossed it at him. "I think I'm so what?" He was teasing her to use her words. Leyla seemed frustrated and he wasn't trying to capitalize on it. Neither of them wanted to be with each other right then; she was mad at him and Taner didn't want to get his face clawed off. His shoulders lifted, innocence in his tone, "stop what?" The confession may have stilled her but Taner picked up a few items and began toiling a bit. Clueless as to what to do. "It's probably better if you do it, or... tell me what to do to help. Without glitter."

When she shared how she went from possible school teacher to event planning, he thought it was rational. She weighed the pros and cons and went with what fit her best. "So, you love it then, or enjoy it? It's gotta be stressful and exhausting. At least it pays a lot more though, right?" It wasn't always about money but passions didn't always pay the bills or afford certain lifestyles. "It's my fault," Taner didn't hesitate to say after she apologized. "But I won't make the same mistakes again. She definitely has all my love, her mother's love, and is wanted for sure. I'm lucky that kids are accepting and adaptable like that. That they seem to see the good." Billie was just happy to have him, there was no anger, just excitement. "But I definitely hope you're right. She's six."