What Remains by Garrett Leigh Page A

behind.”
    “Ballyboden?”
    “My hometown, just south of Dublin. Population five thousand. There was no work unless I wanted to be a farmer, which I was shite at, and staying there my whole life would’ve felt like I was waiting to die, so I left, married Jen, and fucked that up too.”
    Rupert’s tone was nonchalant, and Jodi let him have it. Families were a mystery to him, and up until he’d split with Sophie, he’d always assumed he’d have to make his own to understand how they worked.
    “Fuck ’em. You’ve got a whole new life now. Live with me , Rupe. The mortgage is only a grand.”
    “ Only a grand?” Rupert snorted. “Mate, I struggle to pay five fifty on a poxy room.”
    “So don’t. Pay five hundred for a real home, for both of you, here, with me.”
    “You’re bloody mad.”
    Rupert closed his eyes. Jodi could almost see the cogs turning in his brain in the long moments it took him to open them again. And even then, he said nothing. Just stared at Jodi like he wasn’t quite real.
    “Rupe.” Jodi cupped Rupert’s face in his palm and rubbed his cheek with his thumb. “I want this. I want you . Why is it so hard for you to believe that?”
    “Because I don’t get it. I’m a loser, mate. I’ve got nothing to offer you.”
    “Bullshit. I’ve got your heart, right?”
    Rupert blinked. “It’s yours. I fucking love you. So much.”
    “I love you .” Jodi kissed Rupert once, hard, and lay back. “We love each other, so we won’t ever need anything else. Fuck the money, babe. Just let yourself be.”

December 26, 2014
    “Daddy?”
    Rupert glanced up from the train track he was building on the living room floor: Indie’s main present that he’d left under the tree for her on the first Christmas morning he’d spent alone in years. “What’s up, love?”
    Indie bit her lip, a habit she’d developed over the last few months when she wanted to ask Rupert something she wasn’t sure he’d like. “Did Jodi buy my trains too?”
    “Erm, kind of,” Rupert said. “He helped me choose them.”
    The white lie burned his soul. He’d sworn to himself not long after Indie was born that he’d always tell her the truth, no matter how complex the situation, but it was a vow he’d found impossible to keep since the accident. How the fuck could he explain to an eight-year-old why the man she’d considered a virtual-stepfather had disappeared overnight? His explanation of a serious accident only went so far. He shuddered to think what Indie made of the fact that she hadn’t been allowed to visit Jodi even once.
    And Indie was no fool. She held a sparkly purple train up to the light. “Jodi doesn’t like glitter. He says it sticks to his bum, remember?”
    Rupert sighed. He missed Jodi’s endearing lack of filter, despite his ongoing worry that Indie would go back to her mother and repeat things that would make Jen’s ears bleed. “I remember, kiddo.”
    “Can we take a photo of my trains and put it in your photo album?”
    “What?”
    “The photo album, Daddy. The one me and Aunt Sophie made for you.”
    Rupert’s gaze zeroed in on a clean spot in the dust covering the coffee table, trying not to picture the flowery photo album he’d shoved on a high shelf in Jodi’s office the day before, unable to deal with it lying around the living room any longer. If he closed his eyes, he knew he’d see every page, composed with love by Indie and Sophie, documenting every family-friendly milestone of the life he and Jodi shared.
    Had shared. It’s gone now, remember? Rupert blinked hard. “I don’t know where the camera is right now, sweetie. Maybe next time?”
    “Okay.” Indie went back to her train inventory, lining them up in colour order, the way Jodi kept his T-shirts, and Rupert’s heart broke just a little bit more.
    That evening, after a bittersweet day of presents, frosty games in the park, and SpongeBob’s Christmas special, Rupert and Indie caught a bus across the city