Gone was the urge to take my time. My gaze racedover them, picking out my Shadow, just as I remembered him. The two of us perched on the rail in the smoking area. Sat at the back of the bus with Max and his girlfriend. Laughing at a party in someone’s house—I couldn’t remember whose. In every frame he was smiling. His eyes were full of an optimistic joy that didn’t exist now.
Because I’d killed it.
“I didn’t know any of these existed,” I whispered, my eyes burning with the effort of holding my tears back.
“Neither did Ryan,” Frank said. His voice was closer now, full of an understanding I didn’t like, but he didn’t attempt to offer me any comfort. “He wanted me to have them because he knew I’d been stupid enough not to take any in your teenage years. Said it pissed him off every time he looked at this wall and saw the gaps in time. Given I’ve been on the wrong end of his ‘pissed off’ before, I got them up as quickly as possible.”
I didn’t say anything. I think my brain might’ve stopped working entirely with all the new information being dumped on it.
“Not that I would’ve hesitated,” Frank added hastily. “I’m happy to witness any part of your life, even if it’s just through photos.”
I ignored that, instead lingering on another photo of Ryan. My heart was pounding in my ears now. In this one, he was older. Probably a year or two younger than he was now. He was laughing, his head tossed back with abandon.
And at his side, laughing too, was Frank.
“I think you’d better fill me in on what I’ve been missing,” I said finally. I turned my back on the wall of memories, even as I yearned to give it more attention. Now wasn’t the right moment, not if I wanted to make it through this conversation unscathed.
I perched on the edge of the armchair while Franktook the sofa. He rubbed his hands together nervously. “Where would you like me to start?”
“How about why and how you’ve apparently become friends with the man I’m in love with?”
I’d half expected Frank to recoil at that. He’d never been outwardly homophobic growing up, but he’d judged me for everything he could, and here I was, handing him fresh ammunition on a platter.
Once more, my fears were unfounded. He smiled—a soft, happy smile that had me flashing back to those blurry days before everything went to shit. “Fuck. You have no idea how happy I am to hear you say that.”
I dug my fingers into my thighs. “You don’t seem…surprised.”
He chuckled. “Because I’m not. Even if I didn’t know better, those photos would’ve given you away. You look at the kid like he’s the centre of your universe. If I’d been sober back then, I like to think I would’ve picked up on it.”
How did he know better? That was what I wanted to ask. Instead, a different question slipped out. “So you’re sober now?”
“Yes.” He took a deep breath. “Just gone ten years. Full disclosure—I fell off the wagon on the fifteenth anniversary of your mum’s death. Then again on what would’ve been our twentieth wedding anniversary. But both times, I was able to get back on the right path.”
“You were?”
“Yes.” He nodded. “I had help though. I have a great sponsor through the AA. June was there for me a lot as well.”
My brows flew up. Since when had Frank been friends with Ryan and Max’s mum?
“She’s the one who got me the picture from your passing-out parade,” he croaked, still rubbing his handstogether. “I wanted to be there, so badly. But I knew you wouldn’t want to see me. Your happiness was more important than mine.”
“Since fucking when?” I snapped.
“Since the day I woke up to Ryan hammering on my front door to tell me you’d left,” he said sadly. “After which he gave me several home truths I needed to hear. I knew then I had to change.”
The room tilted. “Ryan didwhat?”
“He came over the morning after you left. Around dawn, if I remember rightly, but it’s a little fuzzy. All my memories of those years are.”
“Because you were half-cut for all of them.”
“Yes.” He didn’t flinch. “I had a problem that I refused to acknowledge until I was forced to. And when I finally did? I’d already lost everything.”
I took a steadying breath. “And it was Ryan who showed you that?”
“Yes and no,” he said slowly. “He was the one who smacked me in the face and pointed out every single way I’d fucked things up with you. But really, it was you leaving that made me take the first step to fixing shit.”
I shot to my feet. “He punched you?”