You and Alexis had met five years ago. You two dated for a year and a half before getting married. It seemed like you had a fairytale life together. You soon found out that you were pregnant with yours and Alexis's first child. Nine months later, you delivered a healthy baby boy. He looked just like his father.

Around the time you son turned two years old, you and Alexis started to drift a part. You both grew busy; him with football and you with your own job. You barely spoke to each other after your son was born. Anger and resentment grew on both sides until you both exploded one night. After the divorce papers were signed, you retained primary care of your son, though you had to give Alexis a certain amount of days with your son if a custody battle was to be avoided.

Which explained your current predicament. Resting your son on your hip, eyeing the luggage and car seat in front of you, you dialed Alexis's number. "Hello?"

"We're leaving soon, just got to the airport," you stated.

"Okay, what time does your flight land?" He asked.

"Ten o'clock, unless we hit turbulence," you replied.

"Ok, see you then. Bye."

"Bye," you sighed. The two of you could now remain in a room without killing each other. More contact than that though was pushing it. "Let's go see Papa," you told your son. The plane ride was uneventful except for when the stewardess and you argued over your son's car seat placement. You landed in London, England on time.

Trying not to wake your sleepy son, you shuffled to the luggage claim and grabbed your luggage. You texted Alexis that you were here and waited at the entrance for your ex-husband. Pulling up in a car with tinted windows, your ex-boyfriend hopped out. "How was your flight?" he asked.

"Stewardess gave me a hard time but it was fine," you replied. As Alexis loaded your luggage into the back, you situated your son in the backseat. Still sleeping, your son remained quiet throughout the ride. You and Alexis exchanged small talk. He asked you about your job and you asked him about his, even though you and your son watched almost every single Arsenal game of the season that was televised.

"How's (Y/S/N)" Alexis asked, pulling onto the highway.

"He's good. Kicked around a football a few times; says he loves it," you replied, playing with your fingers. Peeking at Alexis, you could see the Chilean cracking a smile at the thought of his son playing football.

"That's good. And you, how are you?" he asked.

"I'm good. Works busy and all but it is fun for me," you stated. "How are you, Alexis?"

"Arsenal is great. I love it here. But, I do miss (Y/S/N) . . . and you sometimes," he responded, whispering the second half. You nodded, staring out at the road in front of you. An audible yawn was heard from the backseat and you turned around to see your son wake up.

"Where are we?" he whined. Now three and a half, your son wanted to see his father more often, which is why you were currently sitting in Alexis's car.

"In Papa's car, we're almost there," you told your son. At the mention of his father, your son shot awake.

"Papa!" he shouted.

"Hey, buddy, how's it been? I haven't seen you in forever," Alexis responded, glancing back at your son through his rear view mirror.

"It's been great! Mama let me get a football! We watch all of your games, Papa. I want to play like that one day," your son gushed, letting out everything he's been holding inside for the last two months, which was the last time Alexis came to visit you guys.

"You like football?" Alexis smiled.

"How can I not? It's so fun. I play with the other kids on the street sometimes." Alexis pulled into the driveway of his house. Admiring it for a second, you hopped out of the car. After unbuckling your son, you helped Alexis unload the car. Dragging your son and his bag forwards, you allowed Alexis by to open the door to the house.

Stepping inside, your son looked around, amazed. "Like it?" Alexis asked, ruffling your son's hair.

"It's so cool!" your son yelled, stumbling around the large house.

"(Y/S/N), take off your shoes first," you called, pulling off your own.

"Ok, mama," your son replied, jogging back over to you. Alexis brought your luggage to the guest bedroom for you. Your son got his own room, which Alexis had decorated with posters and memorabilia of football, including Arsenal merchandise. You settled into your own room, unpacking your clothes. You and your son would stay for two weeks before packing up and heading back home to your home.

A knock emanated from your door. "Come in," you called, pulling out more clothes.

"I hope I'm not disturbing you," Alexis stated, opening and shutting the door.

"Not at all. And it is your house anyways," you responded. Alexis didn't respond but you heard shuffling behind you.

"Can we talk?" Alexis asked. Turning around, you faced your ex-husband who had his arms crossed over his chest.

"Yeah, sure," you said. Pushing your clothes to the side, you sat on the bed, patting the spot next to you. Alexis walked over and sat next to you. "So what do you want to talk about?"

"Us," Alexis replied, straightforward.

"I'm afraid you're going to have to be more specific than that, Alexis," you sighed.

"What happened to us? Why aren't we together anymore?" Alexis asked.

"We drifted apart," you stated. "Our relationship just didn't work anymore."

"I think it can," Alexis responded.

"Alexis . . ." you pleaded.

"I know I sound crazy. But, (Y/S/N) deserves a mother and father who love each other. Not ones that live hundreds of miles away from each other."

"Are you suggesting we move?" you asked.

"I'm suggesting that we," Alexis said, motioning to the both of you, "give our relationship another try."

"Alexis . . . I don't know, I really don't know what happened between us but this just seems absurd."

"Hear me out. One date, and that's it. If you like it, we'll go on another. If you don't, you can leave and forget I ever mentioned this. Just please, give us another chance, (Y/N)." Sighing you agreed to go on a date, one date. One turned into two and two into three and three into four until you reached your hundredth date. (Y/S/N) got the parents he deserved, the remarried parents he deserved.