His Horizon - Con Riley Page 0,75

the past.” He paused for a long moment, visibly pulling himself together in a way Jude had done so often when reminded of missing loved ones. Trevor touched the frame of the nearest photo of his husband. “I mean, I wasn’t ready to dwell on why I hadn’t heard from him for so long.” His next glance Jude’s way was quizzical. “Did he ever mention….”

“He told us what happened.”

“Ah,” Trevor folded his hands around the cards. “Different times, boys. Difficult ones. For both of us.” He closed his eyes. “Simon was so angry when we were both dismissed.”

Jude couldn’t help it. He shouted, “He shouldn’t have been angry with you. You didn’t do anything worth losing everything like that—your jobs, your bonuses. He shouldn’t have been angry with you.”

Trevor looked between Jude and Rob then, brows drawn before saying. “He wasn’t. Angry at me, I mean.” He turned a little in his seat. “It took me a while to work out afterwards that he was angry with himself, furious that he let me down when I was the one who should have been more cautious. That was the environment we worked in, you see, but I was young and….” He faltered. “I was in love. Simon used to help by clearing out of our cabin. I put both our jobs at risk, I knew it, but he said that if I was half as in love as he was with your mother….” He drew in a deep breath. “He gave us space. All he asked was that I was careful.”

For an extended moment, he said nothing. Then his back straightened. “He never wanted to stand in what amounted to a courtroom where he had to deny being my best friend to my face. He knew exactly what I was, and never held it against me until I suggested that it might be better if he did.” Jude let out a small sound of denial, and Trevor paused before saying, “I insisted. What was the point in both of us losing our jobs? I told him to lay it on thick about how the sight of me left him sick to his stomach when we both knew we’d grown as close as brothers. I coached him,” Trevor admitted. “Gave him all the answers they’d want to hear about how he wished he’d never known me. But it was all for nothing. I tried to see him afterwards, several times until he asked me to stop. After a while, I did. I didn’t realise it was because he was ashamed of himself; ashamed of what he’d said about me, even though it was my idea in the first place.”

Ashamed of himself? Jude reeled. Ashamed of himself instead of disgusted, for real?

Trevor nodded as if Jude had spoken aloud. “I didn’t truly realise that he couldn’t forgive himself for what he’d said. Not until he got back in touch and sent these.” He fanned out the postcards.

The first one he read aloud was short. “Today I remembered how long it took you to get your sea legs, Trev. Angie’s not a fan of the Bay of Biscay either! Hope she stops puking quicker than you did, otherwise this trip will be as messy as our first one.”

It was wonderful and awful to hear his dad’s words like this—wonderful to know he’d reached out; awful to have it confirmed that his mum had been as seasick as Jude predicted—but the Bay of Biscay’s choppy waters would have been plain sailing compared to the last storm they must have encountered.

Jude ducked his head, forearms braced on his knees, his lips pressed together to stop their sudden trembling.

Trevor didn’t appear to notice while reading from another postcard. “Remember this big guy?” he read, “And the monkey that stole your wallet?” Trevor turned over the postcard to show the massive Buddha Jude last saw in his dad’s study. Then he continued reading. “This time, one tried to steal Angie’s hair comb!”

Fuck. He couldn’t hear this. Jude shook his head very slightly.

Rob noticed and interceded. “Trevor? I wonder if we could come back another time to hear the rest?”

“Of course. Please, please do. For breakfast tomorrow, perhaps?” His voice softened. “I imagine this is a lot to deal with.”

Jude nodded, gaze still fixed on the floor.

“Only, maybe read these before you go.” He shuffled through the stack of cards, retrieving a couple that Rob took from him. “I’ll leave you boys for a few minutes.”

The moment the door