Chapter 12
Dominic
Once again, I found myself standing in front of a door, trying to find the courage to knock.
This wooden door had once been familiar to me. Now, I didn’t even have a key. I’d ditched it the night I’d left, along with my mobile. I knew keeping the latter would only lead to me contacting Ryan.
Given he’d made it crystal fucking clear that he didn’t want anything more to do with me, it had gone into the river.
Throwing my keys in after had been more symbolic. That river had taken everything from me. My mother. My father. My childhood. I’d let it have that final part, believing I’d never return.
But somehow, here I was.
Because of Ryan.
The door was a different colour now. The peeling red I remembered had been stripped away, and it had been repainted a deep blue. There was a new knocker too, the brass shining brightly as though it had been recently polished.
That couldn’t be the case though. Frank never bothered with shit like that. He didn’t care if dirty dishes were piled six deep, let alone what the entrance to his home looked like.
Fuck it. I said I’d do whatever it took to be back in Ryan’s life, and if this was something he wanted, then I was going to strap on a pair and see it through.
Once it was over, I’d never have to see Frank again.
I raised my hand and quickly rapped on the knocker before I could talk myself out of it.
The footsteps that followed were lighter than I remembered. A more careful tread rather than the harrowing stamping that sometimes thundered through my nightmares.
The door swung open, and for several moments, we both stood there in silence, staring at the stranger before us.
I knew I’d changed since I was eighteen, but this man in front of me?
It was undoubtedly my father, but there wasn’t a single thing I recognised about him. Nothing from his neatly cut hair to his clean-shaven face, or his smartly pressed shirt and chinos. Even his scent was different…but I couldn’t put my finger on why.
There’s no alcohol.
I had to force myself not to take a step back in shock. The lingering scent of spirits that I so strongly associated with him was…gone. As was the cloudiness in his eyes. His hands were shaking at his sides, but I didn’t think that was caused by alcohol.
I thought it was shock.
“Dominic,” he croaked finally. “It’s so good to see you, my boy.”
His words had my guard snapping back up. “I’m not your boy, Frank, and I haven’t been in a very long time.”
Frank’s throat bobbed. “I deserve that. Will you come in?”
He stepped to the side, leaving the door wide open. Leaving the decision in my hands.
I swallowed a couple of times before forcing my feet forward. My steps were jerky as my limbs tried to lead me in the opposite direction.
But I thought of Ryan. Of what he’d said.
“I’d never ask you to see someone who’d cause you pain. I wouldn’t send you back there if I believed with even an ounce of my soul that he’d hurt you again. Trust me?”
With anyone else, I might doubt his words. After all, what better way to get back at me for the pain I’d caused by forcing me to relive the worst period of my life?
But this was Ryan. He might bluster and bravado, but beneath that lay the kindest soul I’d ever encountered. Intentionally hurting someone on such a soul-deep level wasn’t something he was capable of.
What’s more, I did trust him.
Frank followed me in silence as I went into the living room and immediately froze. Had I entered the Twilight Zone? It was the only explanation for the clean, tidy, thoughtfully decorated room I’d entered. There wasn’t a single item of furniture I recognised.
Frank stepped up beside me. He cleared his throat, nodding at the unfamiliar space. “I’ve made some changes.”
“Took you long enough.”
My words were cutting. Cruel. Inwardly, the teenage version of myself flinched, readying himself for the backlash.
But Frank just nodded. “You’re right there. Why don’t you have a seat and I’ll make us some tea.”
I suspected it was sheer shock that had me doing as he suggested. I didn’t sink into the comfy sofa though, instead perching on the edge. I wasn’t relaxing. I couldn’t. Not here. Not around him.
Even the distant sound of him bustling around the kitchen was unfamiliar. As was the quiet tune he was humming as he went about making us tea.
Tea.
Like he was a normal father. Like I was a normal son.
What the fuck is happening?
With shaking fingers, I pulled my phone out and shot off a text to Ryan.
DOM
I’m here. What the fuck happened while I was gone? I feel like I’ve stepped into a parallel universe.
I didn’t expect a response. Ryan was spending the day with Xander. But to my surprise, a message came through almost immediately.
SHADOW
You’re at Frank’s? Holy shit.
I smiled a little.
DOM
You asked me to, remember?
SHADOW
Well, obviously. I wasn’t expecting you to go, though. Certainly not this soon.
DOM
Told you I’ll do whatever you ask of me, Shadow.
SHADOW
You might not believe me now, but I’m asking you to do this because it’ll be good for you in the long run.
Trust me, Dom.
DOM
I do. That’s the only reason I’m here.
SHADOW
I’m proud of you.
I rubbed my throat as a lump appeared. When was the last time someone had told me that?
DOM
Don’t be too proud of me. There’s every chance he’ll say something to piss me off and I’ll lamp him one.
SHADOW
He might, but I think you’ll continue to be surprised.
DOM
Aren’t you going to make me promise not to punch him?
SHADOW
Nah. If he deserves it, he deserves it. Besides, it’d make me the world’s biggest hypocrite.
I frowned down at the screen. What did he mean by that?
Before I got a chance to ask, I heard footsteps approaching. I quickly pocketed my phone. As I did so, my gaze caught on the wall opposite. I hadn’t paid it much attention when I first came in, too overwhelmed by everything else to notice.
But I noticed it now.
Shock rolled through me as I got to my feet. Tears blurred my vision as I tried to understand what I was seeing.
The entire top half of the wall was covered in framed photographs. They’d been arranged in a careful fashion, fanning out from a central portrait. I recognised it, but had zero idea how Frank had got a copy.
It was my passing-out portrait.
My smile was small; a reflection of the satisfaction of having completed my training. But the truth lay in my eyes. They were dead. Cold.
I knew why. That day, our families had been invited to witness our passing-out ceremony and parade. I’d spent the weeks leading up to it praying that Ryan would show. If not for me, then for Max.
But only June had appeared. Even their dad hadn’t bothered.
I’d had no one there for me.
Not even Ryan.
My eyes darted over the other photos. My face shone out from most of them, gappy toothed and grinning when I was a kid. Birthdays. Christmases. Hot summer days. Winter snowstorms. Moments from a happy childhood I’d once known.
Mum was in them too. A tear slid free as I reached out to stroke her face. She was beaming, utter serenity and joy in her eyes as she grinned at whoever was behind the camera.
At Frank.
A throat cleared behind me. “I always did love that one.”
I swiped my hand across my eyes, not wanting to show any weakness in front of him. “Shame this is the first time I’m seeing it.”
“It’s one of the many things I need to apologise for,” Frank said heavily. “But that can wait. Have a look at the others. That one on the top right is another of my favourites. Best day of my life.”
My gaze flicked up automatically to see Mum in a hospital bed, smiling down at the red-faced newborn in her arms. Frank was beside her, also not looking at the camera. No, he was staring at the two of us with such love that I almost wondered if it was the same man.
Behind me, I heard Frank take a seat. I’d never admit it, but I was grudgingly grateful he was giving me space right now.
I let my gaze dance over the frames, studying each one closely before moving to the next. But then I saw one Frank definitely shouldn’t have had. One I didn’t even remember being taken.
My breath caught in my throat. I knew when it was from. The bonfire the night we finished our exams. Ryan was tucked under my arm, grinning widely. Meanwhile, I was smiling down at him. As with the hospital picture, there was no mistaking the emotion there. It was plastered all over my face.
Love.
I couldn’t tear my eyes off it. “How did you get this picture?”
“From Ryan,” Frank said. “A friend on Facebook sent him a load from sixth form a while back. He thought I might like it. There’s a few more there of the two of you.”
Gone was the urge to take my time. My gaze raced over 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.”