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‘Good, man, settling into the holiday. How are you and Sofia going?’

Sofia was Jude’s wife, a stunning Italian woman who loved him with a fierce passion.

She was also in the final trimester of her first pregnancy, and Jude was over the moon.

‘We can’t wait to have the baby in our arms, mate. It’s taking way too long.’

Jude went on to share about their baby and birth preparations.

He rumbled on about how he and Sofia were obsessing over stroller safety ratings, assembling the crib, surviving late-night craving runs, and the awkwardness of their hypno-birthing classes.

Tamping down my memories of how we’d done the same for Estella, I offered a few bits of advice, but mostly I listened, happy for my friend.

‘Enjoy the peace, brother, fact, savor it, because when you’re sleepless and can’t calm the crying bubba all night long, you’ll wish for this time back.’

As I spoke, I sauntered to the outdoor fridge and took out a bottle of unfiltered Águila, a Spanish craft beer.

I was a fan of less mainstream breweries, and a case of the best in the local area always got sent to me wherever I stayed.

‘I’mma stop going on about Sof and me. How are you going? And don’t give me the sanitized version either.’

Jude had a way of cutting to the chase and sensing when things were not all well with any of us in the band.

‘Raff is good, the holiday rocks -.’

‘But?’ Jude needled.

I took a ragged breath and confessed.

‘I miss her.’

I didn’t have to say a name; Jude was close enough to know who I meant.

I leaned against the cool railing, cracked open my brew, and took a long sip.

‘You’re internationally famed for your horn,’ Jude murmured. ‘You’ve got the Grammys, the cash, women chasing you across three continents. You could have anyone.’

‘Don’t want anybody, man,’ I admitted. ‘Chicks chase me, sure, but none of them tickle my fancy. I don’t want easy tail anymore. I might be rolling in it, but I’m sick of feeling half-baked. I need a real wife at home. A woman who can stand by me, raise a family, and not get fazed by the awards or the money. Somebody I can chill and build with, where it’s just her and me against the world.’

‘You had that with Ana,’ Jude reminded me.

‘Hell, I know,’ I muttered, my chest tightening. ‘Back then, Ana was down for me, total ride-or-die. She wasn’t just my woman, man, she was my whole heart. But when we lost Estella, I dropped the ball on her grief. I acted like a jerk and dismissed her feelings about our baby girl.’

‘You were both drowning in trauma, bro,’ Jude offered, trying to take the edge off my guilt. ‘You were dealing with shit, so don’t be so hard on yourself. Don’t obsess about her on your holiday. Get into the trip and try not thinking of her, if you can.’

‘I can’t when we’re still parenting Raff,’ I admitted, letting his words land even if the regret burned. ‘We’re forced to see and speak to each other because of Raff, and I keep getting freak-outs because I can’t love her the way I want to. I wish she stayed, that I fought harder for us.’

‘Brother.’

We fell silent, and I appreciated the pause.

The best thing a friend could do was to sit in silence beside you as you mourned what you lost.

Finally, I rumbled on.

‘Get this, I’ve still got photos of us on my phone. Sometimes I get caught up looking at pictures of her, obsessing over her eyes and how her smile lights me up. I think of how we used to feel like we ruled the world together. Hell, I’m still in love with her, Jude. She’s the only one who does it for me, the one I’ll crave always.’

‘I get you, man,’ Jude said after a pause. ‘Just promise me you won’t wallow, that you’ll at least try to enjoy the time with Raff. Give yourself a break.’