The Dreamer - 12. Chapter 12 - Shadows and Light

Robby sat on the edge of the bed, the room cloaked in the quiet hum of the city beyond the window. Manny was asleep, his breathing soft and steady, a rhythm Robby had come to find comforting over the months. But tonight, it wasn’t enough to quiet the storm raging inside him.

Slowly, quietly, Robby slipped out of bed, careful not to disturb Manny. The soft glow of the moonlight spilled through the window, guiding his steps as he made his way to the living room. He sank onto the sofa, the silence of the space wrapping around him like a heavy blanket. Reaching for the small lamp on the side table, he turned it on, its dim light casting long, flickering shadows on the walls.

In his parents’ house, they had called this kind of space the family room. But tonight, it felt like anything but that. Here, in the stillness, it wasn’t a living room—it was a place to mourn. A space where he could let himself feel the sharp ache of loss without holding anything back.

He stared at the photo in his hands—a family portrait taken years ago. His father stood stiff and proud, his mother’s smile warm but reserved. He had been younger then, his face softer, more open. Back when he still believed their love for him was unconditional.

Robby’s eyes drifted to the image of his brother. He remembered the afternoons they’d spent in the backyard, his brother patiently teaching him how to throw a baseball. How he used to look up to him, the way his brother’s confidence made Robby feel safe, no matter what, he’d always have someone to lean on. Even though his brother had been older, he had never made Robby feel like a burden. He’d treasured their relationship growing up. But now... now it was gone, reduced to ashes. Dust.

His gaze shifted to his sisters, their bright smiles frozen in time. The perfect pair—that’s what his parents had always called them. They were inseparable, sharing everything from clothes to inside jokes, and Robby had always admired the bond they had. He used to dream of being included, of being part of their little world. And for a while, he had been. But now, that connection, too, had slipped from his grasp.

All that remained of those moments, those relationships, was this single photo—a fragile reminder of the family he’d once had and the love that now felt so distant, so unreachable.

He traced the edges of the picture with his thumb, his jaw tightening. Unconditional. The word felt bitter now, a hollow promise shattered by the cold, cutting words of his parents.

"You’re on your own."

The memory of his father’s voice still echoed in his head, each syllable sharp as broken glass. His mother’s tear-filled eyes had offered no solace, only more frustration. They weren’t tears of understanding or regret. They were tears of anger—tears for a son they didn’t want.

Robby clenched the photo, the edges bending under the pressure of his grip. He didn’t cry. He couldn’t cry. Instead, his anger bubbled just below the surface, threatening to spill over.

"They made their choice," he told himself. "And I made mine."

But why didn’t it feel like a victory? Why did it feel like he had lost something he could never get back?

He stood up, and moved to the window, staring out at the city lights. The anger had faded now, leaving only a hollow ache. His breath fogged the glass as he whispered to himself.

I’ve stood in this shadow before—the one cast by expectations I could never live up to. I saw the way they looked at me, saw the disappointment etched into every glance. It was never enough, not me, not my choices, not my love. They said it wasn’t who I am, but how would they know? They never asked. They never stayed long enough to see me, not really.

But Manny sees me. Every part of me, even the broken bits I’ve tried to bury. And yet… what if he’s the one thing I lose next? What if all I have left is this silence?”

The thought chilled him, and his grip on the window sill tightened. Manny had been his anchor, his light in the darkness. But even that terrified him. What if Manny realized he wasn’t enough? What if Manny saw all the cracks in him and decided it wasn’t worth it?

Robby’s chest tightened as his thoughts spiraled. The image of Manny walking away, the same way his parents had, was unbearable. He closed his eyes, fighting back the wave of emotions threatening to overwhelm him. The anger, the pain, the grief—they all clashed inside him, demanding to be felt.

The sound of footsteps broke through his thoughts. Manny appeared in the doorway, his expression soft but concerned. “You’re still awake.”

Robby nodded, his gaze fixed on the floor. “Couldn’t sleep.”

Manny crossed the room, and stodd beside him. For a moment, neither of them spoke. Then Manny reached out, his hand resting on Robby’s. “You’re not alone in this,” he said quietly. “I’m here.”

Robby swallowed hard, his throat tight. “What if… what if one day you’re not?” he whispered. “What if you wake up and realize I’m not worth it?”

Manny’s brow furrowed, and he turned to face Robby fully. “Robby, look at me.”

Robby hesitated, but Manny’s gaze was unwavering, and eventually, he met his eyes.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Manny said firmly. “I love you. All of you. Even the parts you think are broken. You’re not alone, Robby. Not now, not ever.”

Robby’s resolve finally cracked, a single tear slipping down his cheek. Manny pulled him into a hug, holding him tightly as the dam broke. Robby cried silently, the weight of everything he had been holding in finally spilling over. His shoulders trembled, and his breath came in uneven gasps as Manny gently rubbed his back, whispering soft reassurances.

“It’s okay, Robby,” Manny murmured. “Let it out. I’ve got you.”

For what felt like an eternity, Robby let himself be held, the anguish he’d buried deep inside finally finding release. When the tears began to slow, Manny didn’t rush him. He simply stayed there, steady and unwavering, until Robby’s breathing evened out.

Eventually, Robby pulled back slightly, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand. “I’m sorry,” he said hoarsely, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Don’t be,” Manny said, his tone firm but kind. “You don’t have to apologize for feeling this way.”

Robby nodded, though he didn’t fully believe it. Together, they both sank back into the couch, Robby rested his head against the cushions, the photo still clutched in his hands. The room fell into a companionable silence, broken only by the faint hum of the city outside the window. Manny sat beside him, his presence a quiet reminder that Robby wasn’t alone.

The thoughts came unbidden, one after another, weighing heavy on Robby’s mind. He thought about the sacrifices his parents had made for him over the years—the late nights, the hard work, the endless encouragement to succeed. And now, all of it felt conditional, like it had come with invisible strings attached. Strings he had unknowingly severed the moment he told them the truth.

“I’ve always tried to make them proud,” he whispered to himself, his voice barely audible. “But I was never enough.”

Manny heard him but didn’t say anything, giving Robby the space to process. Robby turned the photo over in his hands, his gaze lingering on the frozen smiles of his family. He thought about Manny’s words earlier, the way they had steadied him, pulled him back from the brink. Manny had been right—he wasn’t alone. And yet, the ache of losing his parents lingered. He wasn’t sure it would ever fully go away.

Robby set the photo on the side table, his movements slow and deliberate. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his head bowed. The weight of everything he had been holding onto seemed to settle heavier on his shoulders now, the ache of loss lingering like a dull pain.

Manny stayed beside him, silent but present, his gaze steady as he watched Robby wrestle with his thoughts. Finally, he broke the quiet, his voice low and soothing. “You’ve been carrying this for a long time, haven’t you?”

Robby didn’t lift his head, but he nodded, the motion slight. “It feels like it’s always been there,” he admitted, his voice raw. “And tonight… it just broke open.”

Manny placed a hand on Robby’s back, his touch grounding. “You don’t have to carry it alone anymore. You don’t have to figure it all out tonight, either. It’s okay to rest.”

Robby let out a long breath, his fingers tightening slightly around his knees. Manny’s words seeped into the quiet between them, offering something Robby hadn’t realized he needed—a moment to just be.

After another moment, Manny gave Robby’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Come on,” he said softly. “Let’s go lie down. You don’t have to say anything else. Just come with me.”

Robby hesitated, his gaze flicking back to the photo. He stared at it for a long moment, the faces frozen in time, then turned away. He nodded, slipping his hand into Manny’s as they stood together.

Robby hesitated, his eyes lingering on the faces in the photo—the father who had once been his hero, the mother who had held his hand through every childhood scrape, the siblings whose laughter had once filled the halls of their home. Slowly, he turned the photo over in his hands one last time before slipping it into the drawer of the small side table. The motion felt final, like closing a chapter he wasn’t ready to let go of but knew he couldn’t hold onto forever.

Manny gave his hand a gentle squeeze, pulling him from his thoughts. Together, they walked to the bedroom, the silence between them steadying rather than suffocating.

As Robby climbed into bed, Manny followed, settling beside him. The warmth of Manny’s presence grounded him in a way nothing else could. As Manny adjusted the covers, he reached out instinctively, his hand finding Robby’s. Robby took it, holding on tightly, scared to let go.

As Robby climbed into bed, Manny slipped in behind him, wrapping an arm around Robby’s waist. The warmth of Manny’s presence grounded him in a way nothing else could. Manny’s hand found Robby’s, and Robby took it, holding on tightly, scared to let go.

Manny leaned in closer, his breath warm against Robby’s ear. “I love you,” he whispered quietly, his voice gentle but full of certainty.

Robby’s chest tightened again, but this time, it wasn’t from pain. It was from something else—something lighter, something that felt like hope.

“I love you too,” Robby whispered, his voice steady.