Tammi flipped to the very first page, pointing at a picture of a tiny, round-cheeked baby wrapped in soft blankets. “This is Adrian when he a…. baby,” she said, her accent adding a melody to the words.
Logan grinned. “He is adorable.”
Adrian muttered something under his breath that sounded a lot like ‘kill me now’.
Tammi turned the page, revealing a photo of a beautiful young woman holding baby Adrian in her arms. She smiled, softer now. “And this,” she said gently, “this the mother of Adrian.”
Logan’s smile wavered as his gaze fell upon the woman who had nurtured Adrian into existence. Her gentle kindness radiated from her face, a tenderness in her eyes that spoke volumes as she cradled her son, making him the center of her universe. Amongst the memories captured in the faded photograph, Logan’s attention was drawn to a bracelet adorning her wrist. Though the image was a blur, the quality was low and faded with time, there was no doubt that it was the very same bracelet that Adrian had bestowed upon him with love.
Tammi said something in her native tongue, glancing at Adrian as she spoke, and Adrian quickly translated, his voice softer now, quieter.
“She’s saying that I probably haven’t talked much about her,” he explained, his fingers grazing the edge of the page. “But her name was Aliana.” He paused, swallowing thickly. “Dad told her I used to keep them awake all night long.”
Logan’s heart ached at the memory. Because hehadheard about her. He had heard the story of the bracelet, the one Adrian had carried across continents, the one he had pressed into Logan’s palm as though giving him something more than just a piece of jewelry. A piece of his past. A piece of himself.
And now, that bracelet lived on Logan’s wrist forever, inked into his skin, never to be lost again.
He met Adrian’s gaze, a quiet understanding passing between them, a remembrance of that night on the cliffs in Australia when Adrian had laid his soul bare.
Without thinking, Logan reached for Adrian’s hand and brought it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to his knuckles. Adrian gave him a small, watery smile before turning back to the album, flipping the pages forward.
The pictures painted a story—one of childhood, of summers spent at the beach, of scraped knees and ice cream-stained smiles. There was Adrian, no older than three, playing in the sand, his tiny hands grasping at seashells. Another of him, sticky-fingered and wide-eyed, gripping a half-melted ice cream cone.
Logan chuckled, shaking his head. “You were too cute.”
The laughter dimmed when they reached a picture taken in a hospital room.
Aliana lay in the bed, her skin pale, her head wrapped in a soft kerchief. And there, sitting at the edge of the bed, was Adrian—just a little boy, no older than five, his small hands wrapped around hers, his face solemn as if he understood, even then, that the world was about to take something from him that he could never get back.
Logan swallowed hard, but no words came.
The pages turned, and time passed with them. Adrian grew older in the photos, his face sharper, his stance stronger. Most of the pictures were at the beach—his first surfboard, his first real wave. There was something breathtaking about seeing him like this, young and fearless, salt in his hair and sunlight in his smile.
“I…” Tammi started, then stopped, miming a camera with her hands, pressing an invisible shutter. “Those,” she said, pointing to the album, her eyes shining with pride.
Logan, still mesmerized by the images before him, turned to Adrian and whispered, “You’re beautiful.”
A betraying warmth bloomed in Adrian’s skin.
They were halfway through the third album when the sound of footsteps brought them back to the present.
Aaron and Alon had returned.
Logan didn’t miss the redness in Aaron’s eyes, the way they looked swollen, puffy—like maybe, just maybe, something had finally cracked open inside him.
Alon, oblivious to the weight in the room, plopped onto the couch beside Adrian and peered at the album. “What are you doing?” he asked.
“Mom is showing Logan embarrassing pictures of me,” Adrian muttered, resigned to his fate.
Logan laughed, flipping another page.
“Have you seen him naked as a baby? Or the one where he thought he looked cool with a skateboard?” Alon smirked.
Adrian groaned. “You both suck.”
But Logan just grinned, his fingers still laced with Adrian’s.
“Yeah… it was a tough phase with the skateboard and those… rapper clothes, huh, Ad?” Logan teased, his silver eyes glinting with amusement as he glanced over at Adrian with a smirk.
