Frank eyed me warily. “Yes. And for the skinny git he was, he put a fuck-tonne of power behind it.”
“If you dared touch him…” I growled, prowling closer. Fear was clouding my mind. Logically, I knew Ryan was fine. They even seemed to have formed some sort of relationship. But if Frank had laid a single finger on him…
“Cut me some slack,” Frank said wearily. “I may have beaten you down in every way possible, but I never raised a hand to you. Haven’t done to Ryan either. I needed a smack back then, and I’ve no doubt he’d give me another in the future if necessary too.”
Mollified, I returned to my seat. I rubbed my hands over my face, trying to process everything. “Okay, let’s backtrack. Ryan came here the morning I left?”
“Yes. Like I said, Ryan’s the reason I’m sober. Not why I started on this path—you leaving did that. It made me finally wake up. I’d already lost your mum, and thanks to my addiction, I lost you too. I got sober for you, but Ryan made sure I stayed that way.”
I lowered my hands. “What do you mean?”
“He’s been there for me over the years,” he said slowly. “Refused to give up on me. Came back to see me every time he was home from uni. Phoned weekly to check in. Stopped by for a couple of hours every Christmas Day so I wasn’t alone. Over the years we’ve taken up fishing together. We have a trip coming up in a couple of days. And those two times I fell off the wagon? He was the one to drive me to rehab. He used every minute of those drives to remind me why I was doing this. Why being sober was more important than any escape drinking would give me.”
“Which was what?”
“You.” His eyes were covered in a sheen as they met mine. “We both knew you’d never give me the time of day if I wasn’t sober. You’re my reason, Dominic. I don’t deserve to have you in my life, I know that. I wasn’t the father you needed after your mum died. The things I said to you sometimes…” His words trailed off with a choked sob, and he lifted a shaking hand to wipe away a tear. “It makes me want to drink to forget them. But I know that’s not the right thing to do. I wish I’d realised that earlier. We lost so much time because of me. I know that now, Dominic. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”
I couldn’t look at him any longer. “You think one apology is going to fix everything? You’re sitting here and telling me that you wouldn’t be sober if it weren’t forRyan’s help. Which he’s been doing since he waseighteen. Don’t you see how wrong that is?”
Frank gave a dry laugh. “Have you tried telling Ryan no? He’s more stubborn than you are, and that’s saying something.”
I grunted. That was the most I’d agree with Frank.
“Besides, I like to think we helped each other,” Frank continued. “I wasn’t the only one broken and suffering back then.”
My spine stiffened. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Frank went quiet, back to rubbing his hands together. “That’s his story to tell. Not mine. All I have to say is—don’t break his heart this time, Dominic. I don’t have the right to ask anything of you, but please, don’t. He wouldn’t survive it again.”
Foreboding spread through me like a winter’s chill. Just what had happened that Frank couldn’t share?
“Don’t worry,” I said eventually. “I won’t. Anyway, I doubt he’ll let me close enough for that to happen.”
I didn’t know why I suddenly felt so negative about my chances. Maybe it was the photos. The memories of what we’d once had.
What we might never have again.
“Hmm.” Frank sat back in his seat, hands clasped over his now-slim belly. “I think you might be wrong there.”
“How so?”
“I’ve been close to the kid for a decade now, and aside from the times when he’s reminded me of why I need to stay sober, do you want to know how many times he’s brought you up?”
I suspected I wasn’t going to like the answer. “How many?”
“Once. Even when he sent me those photos, he didn’tmention you. Just said my wall was annoying him and to get them up as soon as possible.”
I flinched. Yep. I didn’t like that answer. “See? He doesn’t care.”
“On the contrary, he cares deeply.” Frank leaned forward on his knees. “He cares about you so much that hecan’ttalk about you. Because if he opened those floodgates, he wouldn’t be able to close them again.”
I pushed back the hope that was desperately trying to rise. “How can you be so sure?”
“Because I was the same after losing your mother,” he said softly, his eyes finding the photo of her grinning that had caught my attention earlier. “I knew talking about her would help heal the wound her dying had caused. I didn’t want to do that. Living with the pain kept her here, in a way.”
My shoulders tightened. “And in doing so, you pushed me away.”
“Which will always be my biggest regret. I swear, Dominic, if I could choose to go back to one day, it wouldn’t be one when she was alive.”
