Page 100 of Shattering

She loved me. I know that now. Even when she couldn't get out of bed. Even when I wasnt the best of sons. She loved me through all of it.

And I watch you with Tomos, and I thank whatever fucking miracle brought you into his life. Into mine.

He's got you. That's the difference. You make things solid for him in a way I never had growing up. I don't have to worry that he'll feel the way I did, that he'll wonder if he's loved.

He knows. Because of you.

And I think about you, too. More than I should. More than I say. I am more than a little obsessed.

You know I already sleep beside you, but sometimes, I wonder if you dream of me like I dream of you.

You keep the nightmares at bay. Always have.

Maybe one day soon, I won't have to wonder.

-Gray

Gray stepped into the locker room, the scent of liniment and sweat filling the space as he grabbed a protein shake from his bag.

He wasn't surprised when Byron strolled in, massive as ever, grinning like he owned the world.

And, to be fair, he almost did.

Byron had become a fucking sensation.

His Instagram had millions of followers, his face plastered on billboards for top rugby brands, his contract offers coming from the best clubs in the world.

And yet, he still walked in like the same loudmouth from the old days.

"Gray fucking Callahan," Byron grinned, throwing a towel onto the bench. "Thought you'd dropped off the face o' the earth, lad."

Gray snorted, shaking his head. "Somethin' like that."

Byron flopped down, stretching out his long legs. "So. Heard ye had a bit of a domestic."

Gray sighed. "Jay-sus."

Byron chuckled. "Hey, the streets talk, lad. And by 'streets,' I mean Ana, who's been swearing about ye for the past week."

Gray rubbed his face. "Aye. Figured she'd have opinions."

Byron grinned. "She had enough opinions to fuel a bloody war, mate. Thought she was gonna break your door down just to kick yer arse."

Gray smirked. "Wouldn't be the worst punishment, considerin'."

Byron shot him a sideways look. "She wasn't wrong, though."

Gray grunted. "Aye, I know."

It was mid-morning, and only the die-hards were here-those who lifted, trained, or sparred as part of their routine, not a resolution.

Gray walked to the bench press, exhaling as he finished his set, racking the bar with a metallic clang.

Byron, towering over him with his usual shit-eating grin, pulled his earbuds out. "Not bad, lad. Y'still got it."

Gray sat up, grabbing his towel. "Yeah, well, gotta keep up with the young ones."

Byron snorted. "Lad, I've seen grandads in better shape than half the league."

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