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April 2024

There was only one person who could make the most painful day of Riley Tuck’s life even worse, and he’d just walked into Avery River United Church.

Riley was with his family behind the last row of pews, too close to the entrance to ignore the arrival of Adam Sheppard. And if he hadn’t been standing as close, he still would have heard the ripple of Adam’s name being excitedly whispered throughout the crowded church.

Adam’s piercing blue eyes met Riley’s miserable ones, and Riley’s useless heart gave a hopeful bounce. Because Riley’s heart had always been his worst enemy.

The same could be said for Dad , he thought darkly.

Riley managed a curt nod in acknowledgment of Adam’s baffling presence, then turned to his mother. Susan Tuck raised her eyebrows at him, but Riley shook his head. He didn’t know why Adam was here, and he didn’t care. It wasn’t important right now. Not when they were about to say goodbye to their beloved father and husband. He just needed to get through this. He needed to sit through whatever Reverend Walter had to say, then try not to lose it completely while he shared his own memories of Dad. Then he would endure the crush of sympathies from their friends and neighbors in the church basement while everyone ate tiny triangular sandwiches.

And then they would bury Dad’s ashes, and that would be it. Dad would be gone, and Riley would have to find a way to cope with that. He didn’t have a good track record for coping with misery.

Adam had sat himself in one of the pews at the back of the room. Riley wondered if he’d expected the funeral to be so crowded. When had he decided to come? Had he booked a flight yesterday? Did he rent a car? Why was he here, sitting with obvious discomfort in a pew that didn’t offer enough space for his long legs? He was smushed up against Dr. Tanner, and that probably wasn’t good for his shoulder, especially after a flight and what was probably a two-hour drive in the rain.

Fuck. Why was he here?

“It’s time to go,” Lindsay, Riley’s younger sister, whispered to him. She nodded toward the altar. Riley forced himself to start walking. He felt the weight of hundreds of gazes as he made his way to the pew at the front and tried not to feel the particular weight of one of those gazes. He sat and stared at the tiny black box that contained all that was left of his father—a man who had always been the loudest and most cheerful in any room. A man who’d coached kids’ hockey, played guitar, and helped everyone he could, however he could. A man who’d started selling Pride flags in his sporting goods shop after Riley had come out to his family. A man who had gone to countless funerals and weddings in this same church, who had offered comforting words in the basement, and who had loved those little sandwiches, especially the pickle ones.

A man who had loved people, and who had died alone of a heart attack in his backyard. Even Mom hadn’t been home. He’d been found by one of their neighbors.

Riley couldn’t see anymore. Lindsay’s hand was on his back as he shook with grief.

“If you don’t want to speak up there,” Lindsay said, “you don’t have to. People will understand.”

Riley wiped his eyes, blinked at the dark wooden rafters for a moment, then said, “No. I’ll do it.” He could at least do this, for Dad. And for himself. He couldn’t always hide.

Lindsay squeezed his hand. “No one will judge you, either way.”

“I know.”

Reverend Walter began speaking then, and Riley did his best to listen.

* * *

Riley desperately needed some air. The church basement was hot, overstuffed with people. More people than Riley wanted to see, and more laughter than he wanted to hear right now.

He stepped out of the church into the endless cold drizzle of April in Nova Scotia. He realized then that he’d left his suit jacket on a chair inside. He’d be all right for a few minutes, and his warm, sticky skin welcomed the chilly rain.

He rounded the corner of the church, hoping to find more privacy away from the entrance, and spotted Adam. He was alone, leaning against the side of the building, staring at his phone. The roof stuck out just enough there to keep him dry. It was where Riley had planned to stand, but like so much of his life, it was occupied by Adam Sheppard.

“No signal in the church?” Riley asked as he approached him. It sounded angry. He was angry. About so many things. But only one of those things was standing in front of him.

Adam glanced up, clearly surprised and possibly even embarrassed as he fumbled his phone into his coat pocket. He was elegantly dressed: expensive wool coat, crisp dark suit pants, shiny black shoes. His short dark hair was flecked with gray now. It hadn’t been, the last time Riley had stood this close to him.

“Just wanted some air,” Adam said.

Riley’s heart clenched, and he wondered if Adam even realized the memories those words dug up. If Adam even remembered; he’d usually been drunk whenever he’d used that code. And it had been so long ago.

I’m bored. Wanna get some air?

The words and Adam’s hot breath would caress Riley’s ear, making his heart race and his dick hard because he’d known what Adam had really wanted.

Riley blinked away the memory and stepped closer to Adam, getting in his space. “Why are you here?”

Adam looked like he’d slapped him, his eyes huge and sad. “Did you really think I wouldn’t come?”

Riley didn’t answer. He just stared and waited.

“I’m sorry,” Adam said.

Riley scoffed. He wanted to ask “for what” because there was a list, as far as he was concerned.

“I loved your dad,” Adam said. “I couldn’t believe it when I heard.”

“How did you hear?”

“Maggie follows your mom on Facebook. She saw the obituary.”

Riley was pleased to notice that the name Maggie didn’t feel like a knife piercing him anymore. He liked Adam’s wife, truly. And he couldn’t blame her for loving Adam any more than he could blame Adam for not loving him.

“Riles,” Adam said softly. He put a hand on Riley’s forearm, where the damp cotton of his white dress shirt stuck to his skin. “I’m so sorry. I know how much your dad meant to you.”

And the thing was, Adam did know. He knew almost everything about Riley.

“Your speech was…” Adam blew out a breath. “Man. It was awesome. Awesome.”

“Thanks,” Riley said quietly. Adam’s hand was still on his arm, warm through the cold cotton. He heard himself say, “I almost didn’t do it. I didn’t think I could.”

“You always sell yourself short.”

That’s when Riley remembered that he was mad at Adam. “How the fuck would you know?”

Adam removed his hand. “I know it’s been a while…”

“A while ,” Riley said, too loudly. “It’s been twelve fucking years.”

A hint of anger flashed in Adam’s eyes. “Is that my fault?”

Riley glared at him, furious at himself for not having an answer to spit back at him. Because yes, it was Adam’s fault, but also, no, it wasn’t. It was just a fucking mess of a thing that neither of them had wanted to clean up. And now it was too late.

“I tried to reach out. At first,” Adam said.

Riley gazed up at the gray sky. He couldn’t look at Adam. “Okay.”

“You told me not to contact you. You fucking said those words, Riles.”

You were supposed to ignore them , Riley thought. You were supposed to know I needed you.

“I can’t do this right now,” Riley said, meeting his eyes. “It’s been a fucking week, and I have to go across the street and put Dad in the ground.” He gestured to the cemetery behind them. “So, thank you for coming or whatever, but please fuck off.”

Adam sighed and looked away. “This was a mistake,” he muttered.

“Wouldn’t be your first. Goodbye, Shep .” Riley turned and walked away before Adam could reply, and before Adam could see the tears in his eyes.