Lyla's heart sang for joy. Her life was coming together perfectly and it felt effortless, though it'd taken more than she'd felt she had. Louis' calloused fingers were tight around hers, and she could almost feel his blood rushing and his entire weight in her hand. She was so aware of him it was unbearable.

She couldn't keep her eyes off of Evan; he was so perfect. As he climbed over the barricade to hug Louis, as he laughed and smiled up at her, all she could think of was how wonderful he was. She didn't know how she had survived without him.

"Evan!"

Lyla looked up toward the voice, her hand curling possessively around Evan's shoulder. Mr. Jefferies waved at her, his eyes bright.

"Miss Novacek," Mr. Jefferies said, jogging over to them. "I… I don't know what to say except… Wow." He laughed, looking down at Evan and shaking his head. "How you doin,' kid?"

Evan smiled at Mr. Jefferies, "Fine." Seeming to think through this a little more, Evan shivered and exclaimed, "I'm great!"

Lyla smiled delightedly down at him, pulling him closer to her.

"Hello, I'm Mr. Jefferies; I'm with the Child Services of New York," Mr. Jefferies held out a hand to Louis.

"Louis Connelly," Louis said, shaking hands with Mr. Jefferies, "Evan's father."

Mr. Jefferies seemed surprised yet again.

Lyla smiled as she thought of Louis' last name. There had been hardly a moment eleven years ago that she hadn't wished that she'd thought to ask Louis his last name. She might've fantasized about calling herself Mrs. Connelly. But life had caught up with her and she'd learned to ignore everything she could remember about Louis; now, it all crashed down on her.

"I thought Miss Novacek had no contact with Evan's father," Mr. Jefferies was saying, looking at Lyla.

Lyla laughed, "I have no idea how…"

Louis stepped closer to her, wrapping his arm around her. She looked up at him. "How did you find me?"

Louis turned his blue eyes on her, the moon lighting them into perfection. "I came here to start me life again; I played tonight and… If I hadn't seen your name on those posters…"

The full impact of what had happened… what was happening right now… hit Lyla head on. He was here with her, his arm around her, so close to her. The fact inflated within her chest, and blotted everything from her mind… for a little.

Louis' eyes left her and found Evan, bringing her back to the park.

"Lucky I heard Evan's music," Louis said, touching Evan's hair. "By the way, why'd you say your name was August Rush this morning?"

Evan's little face darkened. Lyla's heart panicked slightly seeing that look in his eyes. She pulled him tighter to her side, determined to never let that look cross his face again. No one was going to frighten her baby again. Ever. The feeling intensified when Evan wrapped both arms around her waist.

Louis remained silent when he saw this reaction. He looked up at Lyla for some explanation, but didn't receive any.

"So you've really found them, Evan," Mr. Jefferies said, looking at them all. "I'm sorry to say I didn't think the chances were good, but…" He raised his arms. "Here you are!"

"Yeah, I know!" Evan laughed and the tension left from Lyla's shoulders.

"So, what now?" Louis asked. "What happens next?"

Mr. Jefferies' business manners came back; his hands clasped in front of him and his smile turned into a tight-lipped grimace. "Well, we will have to verify that you are, in fact, his parents…"

"Ho-how will we do that?" Lyla interrupted.

"Blood tests," Mr. Jefferies stated. "It's as simple as that, and after we present that to the courts, we can see about giving you custody of Evan. I'm sure that when we explain your situation, the judge can have no objections, seeing as how Evan was never adopted."

"Did you hear that?" Lyla asked, looking down at her son. "Do you want to be a family, Evan?"

The eleven-year-old nodded, the smile stretching wider than anyone had thought possible. "Yeah," he said simply.

Lyla laughed and turned to Louis, smiling shyly. She wanted more than anything to ask him, "Would you want to be a family?" but her mouth wouldn't form the words. There were so many possible answers to that question, and fifty percent of them would be unbearable to her. There was something within her that said he wanted her to ask him… but that could just be her own wishful thinking. She hoped that something in her eyes showed how much she wanted that; she had to how him how much she wanted him.

"Unfortunately," Mr. Jefferies said, "I will have to take Evan back to the Child Services building with me until that decision is made. I'm sorry, but it's the law."

"Of course. That's understandable," Lyla said. "But not right now. Please, not yet." She tightened her arm around Evan once more.

"Alright," Mr. Jefferies nodded himself. "I'll give you a few minutes. I'll just be… over there." He excused himself and headed back over to the stage to talk with the Dean of Julliard, who was looking down at the new family with interest.

Lyla looked at the two people in her arms. "I still can't believe that… I'm here! You're both here and…" She laughed and pulled Evan into yet another hug.

"I can't believe it either," Louis said. He looked dazed when Lyla gazed up at him and then straightened to stand beside him.

"Well, I can believe it!" Evan said, breathing deeply. The smile never left him; never. Lyla loved him all the more for it.

"That was wonderful, young man," said an elderly woman from the crowd around them.

"Truly extraordinary," said her companion, a balding man with the distinct look of a professor about him.

"Thank you," Evan said, smiling to them.

"You did wonderful, too, darling," said the woman to Lyla.

"Oh, thank you, very much," Lyla said, her heart in the statement. She pulled Evan and Louis closer to her, reveling in them once again.

…An hour later…

"I'll see you in the morning, okay?" Lyla repeated to Evan, hugging him for the twenty-sixth time tonight; she was counting.

"Okay," Evan said. The sadness at their departure made the blue in his eyes turn darker.

"Don't worry, lad," Louis said. "There's no way in hell any court in the world can keep me and your mum from seeing you."

Evan laughed and hugged Louis before retreating up the stone steps toward Mr. Jefferies. His tuxedo made him look very thin, Lyla noticed, as Evan turned and waved a final time before going into the building. She stared at the door for a moment, thinking about Evan and how much she was going to miss him tonight.

Suddenly, she was very aware of the man standing next to her. She turned and was again hypnotized by the light in his eyes. She'd succeeded in forgetting how blue they were, and how clear his gaze was… and how… warm he made her feel just by biting his lower lip.

Lyla reached for his hand instinctively; it wasn't until she felt him squeeze her fingers that she realized how bold a move she'd made. It made her tremble when she thought of how much bravery it would've taken if she'd been thinking at all.

"C'mon, darlin'," Louis said, pulling her toward the curb to signal for a cab.

The taxi ride to her apartment was silent. Lyla was happy to simply lean against Louis, watching him play with her fingers. She let her mind go blank, and was surprised when the cab pulled to a stop and Louis leaned forward to pay.

Lyla reached for her wallet, but Louis was ushering her out the door before she'd even pulled it out of her pocket.

"Wait, Louis!" she said, standing on the sidewalk. He didn't look at her, holding the door open for another person to climb in. Once he'd shut the door for them, he turned to her, saying, "Yeah?" He looked down at the wallet in her hand. "Oh, don' worry about it, Lyla."

She pursed her lips, but remained silent as he came closer.

"Honestly, it wasn't that much," he said, touching her arm reassuringly.

Lyla nodded and turned toward the building, leading him through a small entryway to some stairs and up to her apartment. Her landlady looked out from her bedroom as they ascended, but upon seeing Louis, the elderly lady quickly shut the door. Lyla smiled, embarrassed only a little.

Louis stepped into her living room, looking at the old couch next to the many windows and her cello on its stand.

"How long have you lived here?" he asked as she hung her jacket next to the door.

"Only a few weeks," she responded.

There was a bit of silence and then Lyla asked, "Would you um… like something? I don't have much right now but um…"

"No, thank you, Lyla," Louis said. He stood in the center of the living room, his hands at his sides. Lyla still didn't truly feel awake enough to believe he was really there, standing so close. Touch was the only thing that had kept her from thinking she'd been hallucinating…

As he stared at her, Lyla became very aware of the white dress she was wearing. "If you want to sit down, I'll be right back in a minute." She gestured to the couch and then walked to her bedroom, trying not to seem too hasty.

In her bedroom, Lyla changed back into the clothes she'd been wearing before the concert; just a plain white shirt and jeans. It was late, but she would rather not be seen in her pajamas by Louis, not right now. Maybe he would stay the night… she stopped herself there.

Just as she was about to go out the door, Lyla thought about taming her hair, but decided that it would take more time than it was worth.

Louis was sitting on her couch, his leather jacket over the arm. He was leaning forward onto his knees, his face in his hands. She wondered if he was tired… and then if he was crying, but it looked like neither; his shoulders were too tense for exhaustion and he wasn't making a sound. Her bare feet were silent on the wood floor as she approached him and he didn't look up until she was sitting next to him.

"You're a quiet one," he said, smiling as he sat up.

She smiled.

It was silent again, but it didn't feel awkward. Lyla loathed breaking it, but she was bursting with questions and she didn't know where to start.

"How are you?" she finally asked.

Louis laughed, leaning back on the couch. "I'm great, Lyla. How are you?"

"I'm alright," she smiled, looking down at her hands awkwardly.

It was silent once again, but, unlike their time in the taxi, it wasn't comfortable.

"We'll have to talk about it sometime," Louis said under his breath. Lyla wondered if he'd said it unconsciously. He leaned forward again and took her hand in his, taking a huge breath.

"What happened, Lyla?" Louis asked quietly.

Lyla sighed. She repeated what Louis had said in her head- "We'll have to talk about it sometime." Frowning, she pulled her legs up and folded them on the couch, turning to face him. She thought hard about what she should say, clutching his hand in both of hers. She swallowed the lump in her throat. "When I went home that morning, my dad was furious. He wouldn't listen to me and he wouldn't let me go to the arch to meet you. I became resigned to the fact that I'd never see you again." Her eyes grew sad. "When I found out I was pregnant, I was both delighted and horrified. I wasn't ready to be a mother… but I wanted the baby." Lyla looked up at Louis then, wanting to know what his reaction would be. He was staring at her with an inscrutable expression. Trying not to feel panicked by this, Lyla plowed on through her story. "My dad tried to convince me to give the baby up to adoption; he said that it could hurt me, that I couldn't be a mother and be successful at seventeen. After Evan was delivered, I woke up and… my dad told me that he… the baby had died." Louis flinched and Lyla appreciated that he was silent. "But really, he'd signed him up for adoption."

Louis said something without really opening his mouth. Lyla could guess that a swear word or two had been kept from her ears. His hand was hard around hers.

Lyla swallowed hard, trying to keep herself together. "I've spent the last eleven years as a substitute music teacher in Chicago. I couldn't touch my cello. I moved in with my friend, Lizzy, and I felt content for a while. But every once in a while, I would try to fall asleep… and I swear I could hear something from the windows… almost… music that made me think of you and the baby. It was possibly the most painful thing I've been through. When my dad had a heart attack, he felt… guilty or something, and he confessed that he'd given Evan to the adoption agencies in New York. I came straight here and I gave everything I had into finding him. Mr. Jefferies helped me. For some reason, I knew that… if I played, he would hear me, like I could hear him at night. Julliard had been trying to get me to play for them again, so I said yes and I played for the Philharmonic and now…"

She stopped, enjoying the filling sensation she received whenever she thought of the moment she'd seen Evan on the stage and Louis next to her.

"Wow," Louis breathed. He laughed incredulously, running his free hand through his short hair. "Funny how things turn out, isn't it? Here we are after all these years…" He seemed excited now, shifting in his seat. "How does something like this happen, anyway? You and Evan both just happening to play in the same concert as each other, and me just happening to be in New York to see the posters with your name on 'em? Stuff like this… it doesn't just happen!"

Lyla smiled, "I know. It's crazy. I don't see how anyone could explain it."

Louis smiled back. They were silent for a few seconds, just marveling at how things had turned out. And then Louis slowly reached out his hand to draw a long line from her temple to her chin with his forefinger. The tender look on his face had Lyla feeling the impulse to reach for him, the moment catching her up and sweeping her away, but she resisted, and instead asked, "Louis, what did you do, after…"

Louis shifted again, looking uncomfortable for a moment. He looked out at the windows with a stiff expression before saying, "I guess I owe you my story, since you told me yours." He sighed, shifting again. "Well, I tried…" He cleared his throat. "At first, I thought… the memories would fade and I would find some other girl to sing to. Months passed and things didn't seem to be getting better, even when I was playing with me band. That usually made everything fall into place again." He trailed off, his thoughts in the past. He eventually snapped back, looking down at their hands. "Anyway, I left me band and eventually found me-self back in school. I'd always been good with numbers, so I got me a degree in Math and Finances. The last ten years I been a financing counselor for a big-shot company and to be honest, I was kick-ass doing it; got them a lot of money."

Lyla smiled. She'd never been around swearing a lot; she knew she'd lead the sheltered, uppity life. The way Louis said "kick-ass" as an everyday word was quite the turn-on.

Louis continued, "Everything went weird when I went to Nick's birthday party." He leaned forward, letting go of her hand and putting his head in his hands again. "Being around me ol' band again brought back a lot of the memories I'd tried to forget. Didn't help that me brother shoved the song I wrote you down me troat. After that it was all down hill. I looked up your name on the internet… just to see if I could find anything else about you. It turned into a trip to Chicago." He paused and sat back up, looking at Lyla with an uncertainty about him. Lyla grabbed his hand to encourage him. She could barely contain her excitement. He'd been looking for her even though she'd given up on him. He felt for her…

Louis took a breath and continued. "I tried calling you, but all I got was your machine so I waited all day for you to come back to your apartment. When I talked to the woman who lives next to you, I asked about you. She said you were off on your honeymoon."

Louis said it so calmly Lyla wondered if he'd said it at all. Despite the misgivings she felt, Lyla laughed and said, "She never could tell us apart! She was talking about my roommate."

Louis' eyes seemed to brighten, but he didn't seem any more cheery as he continued, "After I got over the fact that you were gone again, I made the decision to restart me band. Tonight was the first time I played in front of a crowd in years. On me way back to the hotel with me band, I saw the posters and I heard Evan's music… It led me to the concert and I found you in the crowd."

Lyla smiled. "You found me."

Louis stared at her, a small grin escaping the hard mask he'd adopted since he'd said the word honeymoon.

"What's wrong, Louis?" she asked, pulling away from him a little.

"I don't know what to do, Lyla," he said suddenly, letting go of her hand. He stood, pacing a few steps away and then turning to face her. "You saw me." He seemed frustrated, almost angry. His voice betrayed it. "You looked at me before climbing into that car and driving away. Now, I've been through heaven once and hell twice in my life and it's all been because of you! I can't decide if heaven or hell was harder to put behind me. You gave me the best night of my life on that roof. And then, I wasn't good enough for you to hold on to and then there was someone who you chose over me." Louis was breathing heavily, his emotions seeming to pour over him like physical matter. "Please, just tell me Lyla. What should I do? Please tell me if I should walk out that door and never come back or if I should…" He faltered, his words crashing; all the will power he had to make this speech had drained out of him, and now he waited for Lyla's answer.
Lyla stood slowly, a strange look in her eyes. As she crossed to him, she reached out to take his hand, not daring to look in his eyes.
"You mean so much to me that it'd take a lifetime to explain, Louis," Lyla said quietly, shyly.
There was a breathless pause, and then Louis had encircled her in his arms, words seeming to be useless now.