5 Seconds of Summer Preferences

Trying to fix a divorce part 3 (Luke)

It's been so, so long.

And he lifts her up and twirls her around she's shrieking and squealing and he's laughing and holding her close, pinching her cheeks.

He forgets how her eyes are just like his, how her lips are just like yours; how she's something the two of you made and if everything is in ruins then at least you still have this angel.

How she's the product of love and how she's a reminder that there was a time when the two of you were more than just strangers, more than just friends - that you two shared more than just a bed and more than a name, that the two of you shared love.

And you can't help but to smile faintly at Luke and your daughter, laughing with glee and spinning around in delirious circles until they were both a heap of laughter on the floor.

Daddy missed you so much, princess.

I missed you too, daddy. Are you gonna stay this time?

The words break his heart because it tells him that he's left one too many times, but he looks over at you with a hopeful smile and sees you grinning back despite your previous hesitation.

He turns back to his daughter and kisses her on the nose, watching as she scrunched her nose just like you did when he did the same to you.

I sure hope so.

-

It was slow and tedious, but not once did Luke regret ever coming back to you.

One visit became two. Two became three. And three became babysitting regularly on certain days of the week.

And he worked his way up to asking you out to coffee - awkward greetings and bashful smiles, but he still remembers your order and you still sit in the same booth that you did when you dated the first time.

And coffee turned into a dinner; stressing over what to wear and paying for the bill and walking you to the doorstep and kissing you goodnight before driving back home again.

And dinner became a movie where you sat away from him before the two of you ended up sharing the same cushion at the end of the night, throwing popcorn at each other like kids despite the fact that you were grown adults.

It was like loving Luke all over again; the clumsiness of the first few dates and the sweet little gifts, but you remind yourself that this wasn't a honeymoon and you weren't looking for a high before falling again.

And the two of you don't talk about your hopes and dreams and all those fanciful things that you used to before - it takes a while, but after months and months of this dysfunctional relationship of caring for a child and dating for the second time, you find yourself lying on his chest and telling him about all the things you missed.

All the things that went wrong. All the things that you still need to fix.

You're no longer teens that dreamed about a future together, just two adults trying to fix all the bumps from your past.

And it's slow and it's difficult when you're still trying to work on opening up to someone that hurt you so much before, but you get there, one step at a time.

When cuddling on the couch became a norm, no longer an awkward fumbling of trying to recreate what you once had. When kisses became regular, and not stolen as if was forbidden after your previous relationship. When the two of you could go out in public with your little daughter and hold hands and smile proudly when people say you're such an adorable family instead of becoming this stuttering mess of trying to explain the complications.

When you move back into the house you once shared with Luke, one box at a time.

When the smiles become more natural, when it becomes normal - when it feels normal to have Luke integrated into your life again.

And it takes months and months and you watch as a year or two fly by, but you've been working on what you had and so has Luke and while your relationship was still far from normal, it's a work in progress for something beautiful.

And it won't be what you had last time - you don't think you'll ever have what you once had with Luke again from the past - but you're both different people now, and you're learning to love who the other person has now become.

You're working on changes for the better, for a home that feels right in your bones, for a family that makes you feel complete again.

From wishful lovers who dreamed underneath the stars and danced in the kitchen with no music playing to strangers that knew each other all too well and not at all.

And now?

To a family that shared more than just blood; to a future that would be hazy and uncertain, but one spent by each other's side.

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