Page 69 of Shattering

His chest tightened. "Mam didn't finish it for ya?"

Tomos shook his head. "She said that story is Da's." His little voice was firm. "She started The Gruffalo instead."

Gray exhaled, rubbing a hand down his face. He could see it—Tomos tucked into bed, waiting for him to read, only to fall asleep alone. And Cadi, refusing to take his place, leaving that moment between father and son untouched, unresolved.

He swallowed. "Aye, that's a bad place to stop."

Tomos nodded, his expression serious. "Ya stopped when Aslan was at the Stone Table. When he let the Witch tie him up, and I needed to know what happened next."

Gray felt a pang of guilt deep in his gut.

"I'll finish it for ya tonight, lad. Promise."

Tomos still looked unsure, like he wasn't convinced Gray wouldn't disappear on him again.

"And ya missed me games," Tomos added, as if stacking up his grievances.

Gray nodded, guilt sitting' heavy in his chest. "I did."

"And—" Tomos' tone grew firm— "Mr. Blakesley says making girls cry is bad."

Gray blinked, glancing' over at him. "Blakesley?"

Tomos nodded. "Yeah. When Dillon pushed Martha in PE. But then Martha pushed Dillon back, and he was the one crying." He took a thoughtful pause. "But I don't like it when Mam cries."

Gray's throat felt tight. "Neither do I, lad."

Tomos squinted at him, like he was wondering whether or not to believe him. Then, after a moment, he climbed onto Gray's lap, blanket and all, pressing himself into his father's chest. Gray instinctively wrapped his arms around him, pulling him close.

"Did I ever tell ya 'bout this blanket?" Gray asked softly.

Tomos shook his head, burying' his face into the worn fabric.

"Yer Nan knitted it for me," Gray said, running' a hand over the soft wool. "She made it 'cause I loved Peter Rabbit an' Mr. Tod."

Tomos peeked up at him. "You did?"

Gray nodded. "Aye, I did. She was really nice. But she couldn't stay long enough ta meet ya." His voice softened. "She would've loved ya, lad. She was warm an' always smelled like cinnamon an' lavender. She used ta hum when she knitted, real soft, like she had a song stuck in her bones. If she were here, she'd have made ya somethin' too—maybe a jumper with wee foxes on it."

Tomos' brows furrowed as he thought about it. "I think I'd like that."

Gray smiled sadly. "Aye, she would've too."

Tomos frowned slightly. "Why did she go?"

"Because sometimes, people don't get ta stay as long as we want 'em to," Gray said gently. "An' I've been sad about that for a long time."

Tomos studied him for a moment. "Is that why you were mean?"

Gray sighed. "That's not an excuse for the way I behaved." He kissed the top of Tomos' head. "I was wrong. An' I won't do it again."

Tomos pulled back slightly, his small face serious. "Can you say sorry?"

Gray smiled faintly. "I just did, lad."

Tomos shook his head. "No, say sorry to Mam too."

Gray exhaled, ruffling' his son's hair. "I will. But I have ta give her a long sorry. It might be borin'."

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