Jared opened his eyes and looked up at Jag wearily. Jag had moved closer.
“I’m sorry about everything,” Jag went on. “About being a jerk at the pub. About throwing all this shit at you. About getting you kicked out of school. About asking you not to talk to your parents. I had no right.”
“You’re scared,” Jared whispered. “I understand.”
“Most of all, I’m sorry you were hurt.” Jag’s jaw trembled. “I can’t… I don’t want to imagine you in a coma.”
“Then don’t,” Jared whispered. He dared to lightly touch Jag’s arm, hoping it would give him some small amount of comfort. “Pretend you never saw me again and remember me as I was when wewerefriends.”
“I can’t,” Jag replied. “I always wanted to see you again, Jared. But I couldn’t reach out to you. I was too scared about what my parents might do if they found out.” His mouth quirked into a wry smile. “My stupid paranoia. Maybe if I’d tried to find you when I first decided to stay here a couple of years ago… If I’d been braver…” His voice was rough and raw.
Everything might have been different. They might have reconnected. Jared might not have been in his car, stuck in traffic, next to a dangerous tree on the day of the accident. He might have been here instead. Jared clenched his fists. Thinking like that was only going to hurt them both. Neither of them could change the past or the present.
“I need to go,” Jared said. He’d caused Jag enough pain by staying as long as he had, plus his head felt like it was about to explode.
“Please… don’t,” Jag said desperately. “I’m sorry. I know I’m saying all the wrong things and fucking everything up. I just… I just…” He dropped to his knees and flung his arms around Jared, squeezing him tightly. “I missed you.”
Jared didn’t make any attempt to return Jag’s embrace. To do so would have felt cruel. “I need to go,” he repeated. His voice broke completely, and he sucked in a sob.
Jag let him go and shoved the book into his hands. “Open it,” he urged. “Read what you wrote.”
Jared tried to give the book back—reading words his past self wrote wasn’t going to make anything better for either of them—but Jag just glared at him, so he opened it. Sure enough, his pre-accident handwriting stared back at him. The same handwriting he’d written that note in. It seemed to take him forever to read the words. In the end, he resorted to mouthing them in order to help himself focus on them.
‘J, be true to yourself and remember I’ve always got your back. You will get through this. You will be free of them. I love you, Jared.’
His mind swam as he read the words over and over. ‘J’—the same as on the scrappy note. ‘I’ve always got your back.’ Except he hadn’t, had he? For whatever reason, he’d let Jag down horribly. ‘I love you.’ He had no memory of saying those words to anyone. He’d thought he might be falling for Kyrone, but it was too soon to say something that held so much meaning. Reading the words that had been meant for someone else felt like a betrayal, even though it had been years ago, in another life. If he had loved Jag, had the boy loved him in return? If so, it made everything so much worse.
He snapped the book shut and tried to give it back to Jag, but he refused to take it. Jared couldn’t stay and talk anymore. He needed to get away. He needed to make Jag see that the boy he’d been friends with—the boy he might haveloved—wasn’t the man in front of him. When Jag still wouldn’t take the book from him, he let it drop to the floor and then stood, even though his legs were shaking and threatening to buckle.
“I’m sorry I’ve forgotten you,” he said, resisting the urge to throw up from the pain in his head. “I’m sorry your parents did terrible things to you. I’m sorry I didn’t return your messages. I’m sorry about everything. But I’m not your Jared anymore, Jag, and I never will be again.”
Jag’s expression broke. As sobs overtook them both, Jared fled the room. This time, no one tried to stop him.
20Kyrone
They didn't talk on the way back to Kyrone's flat, to the point that Kyrone was sure Jared was going to decide to go back to his bed-sit. He didn't. He got on the bus with Kyrone without question and went back to the flat with him. They didn't talk there either. Jared seemed lost in himself, thinking about things that he either couldn't share with Kyrone or didn't want to. After Jared had taken his pain meds, they curled up in bed together, but even there, lying skin to skin, Kyrone felt like Jared was slipping away from him. Maybe not forever but certainly temporarily.
The conversation with Jag had to have taken its toll on him. Not just because of what he'd learnt about himself and his relationship with Jag, but also because of the emotions that had poured out of Jag. There had been fear and frustration and such a deep sense of loss that it had almost made Kyrone cry. He'd read the inscription that Jared had written in Jag's book, and it had nearly broken his heart. He could see why Jag had clung on to the book for so long, why he’d read it over and over.
He wondered what Michael had made of it all. Jag hadn't admitted that he'd been in love with Jared, but the implication had been there in the way he'd spoken and his sheer desperation.
Kyrone knew it was stupid of him to feel jealous of a man who Jared didn't even remember. Whatever feelings Jared had had for Jag were gone and forgotten. But hewasjealous. Although he didn't know for sure, he was certain Jared's tattoo was some kind of way of remembering Jag. And Jared had obviously been looking for him. Had Jared ever stopped loving Jag?
He berated himself for falling down that particular rabbit hole. There were no answers to his questions, and there never would be. Plus there was no reason to be jealous. Jared was unlikely to get his memories or emotions back. The best either man could hope for was to get to know each other again and be friends. Plus Jag was with Michael. He was engaged to Michael. There was no way he would turn his back on the guy he loved for a boy who didn't know who he was.
Was there?
Kyrone slept fitfully, and when he woke, Jared was no longer beside him. His heart raced as he left the bedroom, but he relaxed when he found Jared sitting on the floor by the living room window. He was wearing the oversized jumper, which he'd pulled over his raised knees, and was flicking through the scrapbook. The sketch of the seagull tattoo and the slip of paper that had brought him to Leeds lay on the floor beside him.
"Have you stolen my jumper?" Kyrone asked as lightly as he could.
Jared looked up and smiled. "Yes. It's mine now. You're not getting it back."
"Fine by me." Kyrone sat on the floor beside him. "What are you doing?"
Jared shrugged. He looked tired, like he hadn't slept well either. His hair was dry and messy, which suggested he hadn't taken a shower yet.
"Just looking," he replied. "Trying to remember."
