With so many requests for an epilogue, I just had to write more after the ending. I hope you all enjoy!

"Life always offers us a second chance. It's called tomorrow. So don't give up against adverse circumstances and keep fighting." ~ Anurag Prakash Ray

November 22, 2003

"Happy Birthday, dear Grandpa~! Happy Birthday to you~!"

The living room erupted into a chorus of cheers as Soul blew out the candles on his cake. He sighed and shakily made it to his chair across the room as the rest of his family huddled around the cake, eager to grab a slice. He wasn't in the mood for celebrating, especially given the timeline of it all.

Mary crouched down next to him, staring up into his eyes. "Did you want a slice, Dad?" He shook his head, turning away from her slightly. "You know… Mom would have wanted you to enjoy your birthday, not be sad about her." She watched his knuckles turn white as he gripped the arms of his chair. "Alright, have it your way," she sighed. "If you change your mind, you'll have to sweet talk one of the boys into getting you a slice." With that, she got up to join the rest of the party.

He watched her sadly for a moment before letting his gaze wander to the wall. Photos covered the wall, a photo of him and his wife, Helen, of Mary with her husband and two sons, and finally an old photo from his time served in the military. Soul hated to see it there. He had managed to keep any photographic evidence of his service from Helen up until their wedding. His mother had decided that it would make a good present, and Helen loved it. She was the one to insist it hang proudly in their living room. Soul never had the heart to take it down.

There were many things he never had the heart to do when Helen was still alive. Like admitting that their daughter was given the fake name of his first love. His wife had let him choose their daughter's name, and the first to fall from his lips was "Mary". To that day, he never understood why it was his first response.

Maka had been the main reason he didn't like talking about the war. He was afraid to tell his family about the amazing woman he had loved and hurt, imagined to be real, and eventually abandoned in the desert. They would judge him. Or worse, think we was insane.

Rubbing his temples slowly, he had to wonder why. Why now? Why would he think back to Maka now of all times? So soon after his wife's death? Maybe he was insane, thinking about a woman an ocean and 60 years away. He should have been focused on his family there, standing in his kitchen, celebrating his eighty years on Earth.

But for the first time in years, Maka stood before him, wrinkle-free eyes watching him sadly as she waved a perfect, young hand in greeting.

He squeezed his eyes shut, wishing her away. He was doing better. He was doing so much better. So why did she have to appear now? A hand on his arm shook him from his thoughts, startling him. He looked into the wide, worried eyes of his youngest grandson.

"Are you sick, Grandpa?" the eight-year-old asked, gently patting his arm.

He looked over to where Maka stood only to find an empty corner. Shaking his head, he smiled at him. "Grandpa's fine. Just thinking."

"About what?"

Pausing a moment, he tried to figure out the best words to say. "An old friend."

"Where is he now?"

Soul chuckled. "She is somewhere very far away. Probably doing some amazing things. She always was, I just didn't know it at the time."

"You miss her, huh?"

"...Yes."

The young boy reached up to hug him. "I bet she misses you, too." Soul returned the hug, blinking tears from his eyes.

Soon enough, it was time for the party to end. Everyone took turns wishing the Birthday Boy one last "Happy Birthday" with a hug before making their way to the door. Mary was last, giving him an extra long hug. "I love you so much, Dad," she whispered before placing a kiss on his cheek.

"I love you, too." he returned with a genuine smile.

"Are you going to be okay?" she asked.

He glanced at the doorway as his guests chatted happily on their way outside. "Yeah, I'll be fine." Mary didn't seem convinced, but accepted his words and headed to the door as well. Soul leaned back in his seat and sighed. Quiet at last.

Or so he thought. Hearing voices outside, he sat up quickly in his chair. The front door opened revealing Mary leading an elderly woman into his home. "Dad, she said you know her, but… I've never met her before. She insisted she see you, so…"

Of course he knew her. Her hair was now the same silvery colors his was, and wrinkles now covered her skin, but Soul would recognize her anywhere.

"I finally made it, Soul," she said, accent sweet like the English countryside.

Getting to his feet, he made his way over to her, eyes flickering between Maka and Mary, making sure that the old woman was real, that his daughter could see her plain as day as well. His hands would not stop trembling as he reached for her arms, gently placing them on her shoulders. "You did… You're here," he whispered, pulling her in for a hug.

Mary took a step back, confusion written all over her face. "Is she an old friend?"

The two broke apart, Soul nodding to his daughter. "She was my-" The words "first love" caught in his throat, not ready to talk about such things as his thoughts drifted back to his late-wife. "... first friend when I was in Europe."

"Do you need me to stay a little longer?" Mary asked.

"No, we'll be fine. Thanks again for the party."

With one more glance towards Maka, she nodded, said her goodbyes once more, and left.

Taking Maka's hands in his, Soul closed his eyes tightly. When she asked what he was doing, he answered, "Making sure you're really here." He opened his eyes slowly, and sure enough, she still remained, hands gently clasped in his. He smiled with relief. "You're a little late."

She laughed. "I went to see you, but I think you gave me the wrong address in England." She didn't miss his flinch. "Your parents… they didn't know what to tell me when I showed up on your step. They said you went out and never came back."

His hands dropped to his sides. "Sorry… I didn't know what else to do. I wasn't me when I was in Connecticut."

She hummed in understanding and slowly walked around the living room, taking great interest in the wall of photos. He saw a flicker of what he thought was jealousy cross her face. "She's very pretty," she said, motioning to a photo of Helen. "The woman who let me in must be your daughter then?"

"Yes."

One arm gently rubbing the other, she continued, "I'm glad it was easy. For you to move on."

"It wasn't." She turned to look at him. "You have no idea how much I missed you. How badly I needed you here," Soul said, dropping his gaze to the floor. "When I got your letter, I couldn't wait to see you. To be honest… I thought you'd shown up. But you know that isn't true…" He slumped into his chair once more, bangs hiding his face. The sound of her taking a seat as well made him look up.

Maka sat in Helen's rocking chair.

Guilt made his stomach uneasy. He really had loved, no, continued to love, Helen. So to have another woman sit where she had so soon… "Could you sit somewhere else? Please?" he asked tiredly. Without a word, she moved to the couch. She understood.

"I'm so sorry," she breathed, hands fidgeting in her lap. "I really meant to come sooner, but with the way we'd left…" Tears began to run down her cheeks, and she immediately moved to wipe them away. "I was afraid you wouldn't want to see me. I was afraid you'd still hate me…"

He moved to sit next to her on the couch, arm wrapping around her fragile frame and tucking her head under his chin. "Never hated you. I wanted to see you so bad." She pulled away and looked up into his eyes, slowly leaning in. But he pulled away. "My wife died earlier this week. I'm not… ready to move on yet."

A mix of hurt and embarrassment flashed in her eyes as she shied away from him. "Sorry…" She felt his free hand lay on top of hers. A smile crept onto her face as she shook her head slightly. "So," she said, turning back to him, "tell me about your family. Tell me everything about when you came back to the States."

And he did. When he asked her to tell him about going back to London and finally coming to the States herself, she obliged as well. They stayed up late, telling stories, laughing, and crying together until they fell asleep together on the couch. They both slept soundly, ready to see what tomorrow held for the two of them.