As I lead us towards my father’s study, he reaches for my hand and holds it firmly in his. It’s in these quiet moments, when he finds small ways to be close to me, to touch me, to make me smile, that I realise I can’t imagine my life without him in it, either.
I glance over my shoulder to check on Troy, only to find him a few feet away, standing before the wall where all our family photos hang. I slow to a stop, which makes Kaden frown in confusion. When I tilt my head towards his dad, he follows my gaze and nods. Without a word, we turn and walk back to join him.
“I’ve missed out on so much,” he says softly, as soon as we reach him. “It’s like watching a silent film of all your lives unfold through these pictures.” His eyes move slowly from one frame to the next, and when they linger on a particular photograph, I don’t need to see it to know exactly who he’s looking at.
A muscle works in his jaw, and the moisture pooling in his eyes tells me this is his first glimpse of a slightly older version of my aunt.
“She was in her mid-fifties when that photo was taken,” I explain, gently sweeping my fingers over the light dust caught between the wooden frame and the glass.
“Who are the people in the photo with her?” Kaden asks this time, just as curious as his father. The picture wastaken during a family trip to Bali. My aunt was at the beach, surrounded by her family, when the photo was snapped.
“That’s my Uncle Rowan, her husband, and the two young teenagers beside him are his children from a previous marriage—my aunt’s step kids.”
“She has a beautiful family,” Troy whispers, his gaze still glued to the image of my aunt. “She looks so happy, and I’m sure she’s an amazing mother to her kids.”
I nod. “She was. Their biological mother passed away after giving birth to the youngest, Jesse, so my aunt became the only mother they ever really knew. She loved them and raised them as if they were her own. She was like a second mother to Finn and me as well—being around children just came so naturally to her.”
He turns to face me fully, a deep frown settling across his features. “Why do you speak of her in the past tense?” His voice slightly trembles with confusion, layered with something else—concern, suspicion… fear.
It suddenly hits me. Troy never knew about my aunt’s passing. How could he? My parents cut all contact with him, leaving no way for him to find out. And now, I have to be the one to deliver the devastating news.
The realisation presses heavy against my ribs. I know the words he’ll hear next will hurt, but he deserves to know that the woman he once loved is gone.
“I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this, but Aunt Amber passed away over seven years ago from pancreatic cancer. Shewas given only two months after her diagnosis. It happened so quickly—but she didn’t suffer for long.”
Troy staggers back, clutching at his chest as though he’d been struck by a lightning bolt.
Kaden is behind him in a flash.
“Dad!” He grabs him by the arms, as if anchoring him before he can collapse completely.
I rush towards them, calling out for my mother as I help Kaden steady Troy, who’s beginning to sway.
My mother quickly rounds the corner, her gaze immediately finding us by the photo wall—Troy’s arms draped over Kaden’s and my shoulders as we try to guide him forward.
She gasps. “Troy? Oh my God—what happened? Frank! Frank, help!” She calls out, panic rushing into her voice.
“Mum, get him some water, please. I think he’s having a panic attack.”
My mother nods, and when she sprints towards the kitchen, she nearly collides with my father.
“What’s going on, Justine?” he asks her.
My mother gestures frantically towards us in the middle of the foyer. “It’s Troy. Please, help them. I need to get some water.”
My father snaps his gaze our way, his eyes instantly widening as he takes in the sight of all three of us. “What on earth?”
“Dad! We need to take him to your study,” I yell, and he’s instantly in motion, rushing towards us and lifting Troy’s arm from my shoulders to drape it over his.
“I’ve got you, mate. Let’s get you seated.”
A minute later, we’re in my dad’s study, gently easing Troy onto the sofa, with Kaden sitting on his left and my dad on his right.
My mother hands Troy a glass of water. He looks up at her, offering a small, weary smile before taking it and sipping slowly.
“I’m sorry. I’m just… still trying to process everything,” Troy murmurs, his voice heavy with disbelief, pain, and perhaps, guilt for only now learning of his ex-wife’s death.
My dad rests a gentle hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry we didn’t tell you. We’ll always regret not letting you attend the funeral. You deserved to be there just as much as anyone else, and we know Amber would’ve wanted you there too.”
