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Ed lifted his eyes, meeting Jack’s.

“It was my dad’s.”

“I thought so.”

A lump took over his throat as Ed’s gaze caressed him, soft and open. Supportive, understanding. Jack turned his head to one side and blinked back the sudden heat blurring his eyes.

“It’s my connection to him,” he whispered. “It helps calm me when I get upset.”

A soft stroke over his ring, making his skin tingle.

“I miss him and Mom.” Jack’s voice came out low, barely audible. “Dad used to have this way of making me laugh no matter what. Always had a joke at the ready. Probably not funny to others, but how he said things….”

Ed slid off Jack, lying at his side, lightly fingering the ring.

“Mom always knew when I was upset and what to say to make me feel better.”

“Those are lovely memories.”

Jack nodded tightly. “There are times I wish I’d gone sailing with them. I keep thinking, what if I could have changed things?”

“Jack….” Ed propped his head up. He touched the underside of Jack’s chin and steered his face around. “You can’t live in ifs.”

“I know, but either way we’d be together now.”

“I’m so sorry. I cannot imagine how hard that was for you.”

The concern in Ed’s expression was too much, and Jack shut his eyes for a moment. “When they died, the shit hit the fan. My family started fighting over the stuff.”

“Stuff?”

“The house, the things my parents had collected, me—well me just because they thought they’d get control of my parents’ money.”

“Money? I thought you said you… that they looked down on you?”

Jack snorted. “They’re so fucking stupid that they have no clue. My mom and dad had started a small dot com back in the early 90s and sold it before the market crashed. It’s all in a trust for me, but I don’t use it. The Reynoldses treat me like their son, which I am. The only reason they didn’t adopt me was my family was screaming how they just want my money. Which is so fucking rich. They wanted the money, not the Reynoldses. My dad’s side of the family thought my parents were their private ATM—except my granddad. My mom’s sister, Meghan, is okay, but she’s in the military and I never got to see her much.

“When she heard that my asshole uncle and my equally worthless aunt were trying to get a hold of my parents’ money, she flipped out and they started fighting. My wonderful maternal grandparents, the ones who told my mom her faggot son wasn’t welcome in their house, suddenly tried to intervene and act concerned. And since my paternal grandmother died and Grandpa Murphy is in a home, I shit a brick thinking I’d have to live with mom’s parents.”

“What happened?”

Jack turned on his side, facing away from Ed so he wouldn’t see the beginnings of traitorous tears. Ed shifted, pressing himself tight against Jack, an arm around his waist. The kiss on the back of Jack’s head had him sucking in a breath.

“My parents must’ve been psychic or something, ’cause they made sure that neither I nor one cent of their money went to any of them—except Grandpa Murphy. My trust pays for his care. Aunt Meghan got money too. But it was in big bold letters in their will that my legal guardians would be the Reynoldses.”

“Good. I’m glad of that.”

Jack shivered and Ed nestled closer. Jack lifted Ed’s hand and repositioned it over the ring at his chest.

“There was a lot of stress after they died. I resented everyone and everything in the house. The only person who truly wanted me, couldn’t because he was in a nursing home. It was like all that mattered to everyone else was money. Not me, not my parents being dead, just the stuff, material stuff that I didn’t give a shit about. All I wanted was Mom and Dad back, and my stupid fucking family wanted to know who got the Italian silver candlesticks or Dad’s vintage baseball collection. And of course the money. It was so clear they didn’t want me, but I was the winning lottery ticket.”

Ed pressed his palm against Jack’s ring and chest; his sigh seeped down Jack’s spine.

“I was so mad. So fucking mad. I told Mr. Reynolds to sell it all, every fucking thing, and to make sure they got nothing. I didn’t care how special or sentimental things were, I wanted it gone. Nothing they said would change my mind.”

He’d wanted his family to know he was severing all ties, and that when he was finished, there’d be nothing left to connect him to them.

“Mrs. Reynolds handled the sale, but before she sold the stuff, she took my aunt Meghan through the house and set aside all of the important things and hid them until later when I was less upset.”

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