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“They’re all fighting,” he grumbled, dragging the towel through his hair.

“We’re not,” I whispered.

He paused and lowered the towel. “True.”

“And we’re together,” I added, smiling.

He smiled back at me. “Another truth.”

“What happened back there, Johnny?” I asked then, desperately trying to keep my eyes off his lower half when he slipped his wet swimming trunks off and tossed them out of the opening of our tent. “Can Gibsie not swim?”

“Hecanswim,” Johnny corrected, rummaging around for a clean pair of boxers. “He just panicked.”

“Why?”

“His father and sister drowned when he was small,” Johnny muttered, brow furrowed, as he concentrated on pulling on his jocks. “They got into trouble out at sea or something like that.” Shrugging, he added, “He’s had an issue with water ever since.”

“Oh my god,” I choked out, heart cracking clean open in my chest. “When did this happen?”

“His first Holy Communion day, I think? So that would have made him seven?” Johnny replied, tone hoarse. Giving up on pulling his jocks up his wet legs, he kicked them back off and covered himself with a towel instead. “It was a long time before I moved down to Cork. He’s only ever spoken about it once to me, and that was when I was eleven so it’s all a bit hazy, but I remember him telling me that his parents were going through a shitbomb of a separation at the time. I’m not sure of the ins and outs of it, but it was really bleeding messy, babe—affairs galore. Anyway, they all rallied together for the day and threw a massive joint party for Gibs and Hughie.”

“Hughie?”

“Well, yeah, it was his communion, too, Shan,” Johnny explained. “And their two families have always been close. They were practically raised together.”

“Oh.” I nodded. “Okay.”

“Anyway, his new stepdad, Keith, had spent a fortune to have the party at this flashy hotel by the coast for Gibs,” Johnny continued, “and Gibs’ father wanted to outdo Keith, so he rented a boat and took a bunch of them out on the water.”

“Oh no,” I croaked out, covering my mouth with my hands, not sure if I wanted to hear the rest of this story.

“They got into some sort of trouble,” Johnny said. “I don’t know all of the details, but Gibsie and his sister, Bethany, got knocked overboard.”

A sob tore through me. “No.”

Johnny sighed sadly. “Their da went in for them, but he didn’t come back out.” Releasing a heavy sigh, he added, “His sister didn’t either.”

Oh my god.“What about Gibsie?” I choked out, dabbing at the tears trickling down my cheeks. “How did he get out?”

“That’s the part he won’t tell me,” Johnny muttered. “I know it has something to do with the Biggs family—and maybe even Claire? But I presume one of them swam out and saved him.” He shrugged again, looking a little helpless. “He doesn’t talk about it, and I don’t push.”

“How old was Bethany?”

Johnny paused and thought about it for a moment before responding. “Gibs was seven, so she would have been two or three?”

My heart broke. “She was only a baby!”

“Yeah.” Johnny exhaled a heavy sigh. “She would have been about Sean’s age.”

“Oh my god.” I shook my head, struggling to comprehend what I’d just heard. “I can’t believe this.”

“We all have our secrets,” Johnny replied quietly. “We’re all a little fractured, Shan.”

“Can Gerard and I have your keys?” Claire’s voice filled my ears seconds before her head popped through the opening of our tent. Without a word, Johnny grabbed his keys off the tent floor and handed them to her. “Thanks,” she replied before disappearing once more.

“Do you think he should be driving after what happened?” I asked, worried.

Johnny shrugged. “Probably not, but he needs space,” he told me, brows set in a deep frown as he focused on plucking wet strands of grass off his shin and then tossing them away. “He’ll go for a drive with her, she’ll do whatever she does that brings him back down, and then he’ll bounce back again.”

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