[That's disappointing. He's mentioned be a father, which has gotten easier since remotely coping with his son's death, but not talked about many details. Like Cole's name, or what happened to the kid. Just mentioned that he was a father here and there, that past tense being of some muted importance.]

[But there's a shaky thought he's had sometimes. 'What if Cole showed up here?' It's obviously occurred for other people. But god, it would be a fucking nightmare for him to be yanked away again without so much of a moment of warning.]

Sorry to hear that. [He says pretty genuinely. And raises his glass.] To your family.

[But then, more technically.] We need a house, but it is just us. Maybe not a big house, but a house.

[He'll have to fight off the urge to want some spare room in the random hope his kid shows up. That torn feeling that he wants it to happen, but he doesn't want it to.]