Page 31 of Even in the Dark

He looks back at my face. “You look kind of pale.”

“I’m fine.”

I feel a little dizzy.

He nods slowly, then twists his torso and looks over towards the bed. “You saw the album?”

“Yeah…” I avert my eyes. “Thanks.”

Phil swallows. Looks back at me, like he’s waiting for me to say something more.

I don’t.

“It occurred to me,” he starts, then pauses and tries again. “I didn’t want you to think there weren’t any photos… from back then. Since there aren’t any around the house. I was worried you might think it’s because I didn’t keep any or that I didn’t—”

“I took the photo from your desk,” I interrupt, meeting his gaze again.

“Yes. I know.” He studies me for a second. “You’re welcome to keep it. It’s yours as much as it’s mine… and I can always make a copy.”

“Thanks.” My hand is throbbing like crazy. The kind of pain that pulses with your heartbeat. It’s gonna be hard to fall asleep tonight.

“The reason I don’t have any photos around the house…” He shifts his stare to a spot just over my shoulder. Out the window towards the lawn, then the ocean beyond that. “It’s because I just—I couldn’t.” He swallows again. “I mean, I used to. For a couple of years after I lost you and Elise, there were photos everywhere. I had them piled on my desk. I was scared I would forget what you looked like.” He pushes his hands in his pockets now. “It was too hard, though. Seeing your faces every day. Being surrounded by the memories… I couldn’t keep going that way. I ached for you, Dyl… every day.” His pleading eyes meet mine. “Every second of every day… Even after I put away the photos, it made it easier to go through the motions, to go back to living… but I never forgot. What you both looked like. You or your mom.”

I swallow back the lump in my throat, not letting his words fully sink in, because I just can’t. I’m so fucking drained. I’m done with all of this for today. For a lifetime, it feels like.

Maybe I will fall asleep okay tonight, after all. I’m suddenly exhausted.

“Do you have any questions… about the photos? Or about your mother, or about—”

“Nah, I’m good.”

He blinks… Nods. Gets that sad look again. That special brand of misery only I seem to put on his face. “Alright, then.” He pats my shoulder, but then winces when I flinch.

I hate how I always do that.

So does he. “Goodnight Dylan. I love you, son.”

“Yeah, goodnight.”

“You need anything?”

“I’m good.”

He heads towards the door then pauses halfway there, motioning towards the bed. “You can keep the album in here.”

I clench my fists and the throb it releases makes me dizzy again for a second. I blink. “It’s fine. You take it.”

His brow pinches in the middle. He wasn’t expecting me to say that. Doesn’t say anything for a couple of beats. Then he nods once. “Alright.” He walks over to the bed and picks up the photo album. Runs his thumb along the spine, then walks to the door.

He gets to the threshold.

“Hang on.” I take a step towards him, pull my left hand out of my pocket and reach towards the book. “Maybe I’ll keep it in here.”

His eyes light up. “Sure thing.” He walks over and hands me the album. “Keep it as long as you want. Like I said, it’s yours too.”

I nod.

“Amazing memories in there, kid” he says as he makes his way back over to the door, “Some of my favourite memories.” He turns and pauses. Smiles. Then pulls the door closed behind him.

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