Let's see how much you remember from the first story.

Philip and Angie always stayed the night at their aunts' house on their parents' anniversary. Sometimes, they would go out and do something fun, like go to the movies or an arcade. Sometimes, however, they would just stay inside and relax, maybe bake or play a board game.

"Tía," Angie called out, walking out of the basement, carrying a thick, dusty book.

"Yes, dear?" Eliza responded, placing a tray of cookies in the oven.

"I found a picture album." Angie dropped the book onto the table. "It has our padres' names on it."

Eliza inspected the book. "Oh, it's one of my old scrapbooks. Philip, Angelica, come look." Angelica paused the movie they were watching, and she and Philip went into the kitchen. Eliza opened the scrapbook for everyone to see.

"Why do you have a scrapbook for our parents?" Philip asked.

"I wanted to document their relationship. Angelica and I knew it was going to last." Eliza flipped through the pages, pointing out the pictures. Many were candids, taken when John and Alex didn't notice. One was of them talking and laughing in the corner of a room. The next was of them kissing in the same corner. The next was of them laying together on a couch, asleep. Philip couldn't help but smile at his parents at the beginning of their relationship. They looked so young and excited to be together. Philip was happy that not much had changed.

Eliza got to a page that read "John's Drawings". Her constant smile fell a bit. "Hmm..."

"What is it?" Philip wondered.

"Um...Your parents gave me some pictures that...well, they just didn't want to see them. They reminded your parents of some bad things, so...they gave me the pictures for safe keeping."

"What...what kind of bad things?"

"They've told you about their pasts, right?"

Philip and Angie nodded.

"Those kinds of bad things."

Philip bit his lip as his aunt turned the page. The first pictures weren't drawings at all. One was the torn half of a picture with faded colors of a small boy and his mother. The woman had tan skin, long, dark hair, and a faint smirk. The second picture was in somewhat better quality, and was of a blonde woman cradling an infant and a toddler. The third was of the same woman and the toddler, but the little boy was was older and missing a few teeth.

"Grands-mères," Angie muttered.

"Why wouldn't they want these?" Philip asked. "They loved their moms."

"It gets to be too much for them, sometimes," Eliza said, shrugging and turning the page. It was a drawing, this time, of John's mother. Her hair was colored with yellow and shaded with orange, and her eyes were blue. Her lips and cheeks were tinted pink.

"Happiness, bravery, sadness, and familial and platonic love," Philip's father had told him when he was little. Philip thought about that.

The next drawings began to look darker and sadder. Drawings of a little boy cowering in fear, surrounded by vicious, coal black monsters. Paintings of angry red splatters and nothing else. Philip shifted uncomfortably when he saw the pictures.

The last picture they looked at was of a sea turtle colored with the rainbow. The paper was slightly wrinkled, but it still looked nice. Eliza gasped softly.

"Angelica..." Eliza looked at her sister with distressed eyes.

"I forgot about this," Angelica said, peering at the drawing.

"What is it?" Philip asked. "What's wrong with this one?"

"It...not too long after this was drawn, um...well, John almost died to save Alex. He got shot in the side."

Angie tensed next to Philip. "Qué?"

"I'm not surprised they didn't tell you," Angelica continued. "They don't like to talk about it."

"What happened?" Philip pressed.

Angelica glanced at her sister. "You can't tell your parents that we told you."

"Okay."

Angelica and Eliza told the children everything that had happened on that Tuesday the 27th all those years ago.

"A club, John? Really?" Alexander crossed his arms and glared at his husband.

"What? You don't like the surprise?" John smirked. They had just left dinner at a nice restaurant, and were now standing across from the building that was covered in neon lights.

"No, John. You know I don't like clubs."

"No, you don't like the idea of clubs. Remember when we went to one in college? Remember how much fun we had that night?" John waggled his eyebrows, making Alex's face burn.

"We're adults now. We're too old for-"

"No. No, don't start with that. It's our anniversary. We can do whatever we want."

"Except the hundreds of things we could get arrested for."

"Come on, Alex. When was the last time we had some fun?"

"We have fun all the time."

"I mean really had fun."

Alex tightened his arms around himself.

"Come on, babe. Let's do this. It's a gay place, and we'll be together the entire time, so we don't have to worry about anything. Let's just go in there, get wasted, dance a little, then take an Uber home and stay up until three."

Alex bit his lip and looked at the building for a moment. "Fine," he sighed. The word had barely left his mouth before John pulled him across the street and into the line. They showed the bouncer their I.D.s and paid, then entered the club. It was dark inside, but colorful lights flashed with the loud music. Hundreds of other people were inside, dancing and jumping around and drinking. Alexander leaned into John's arm, which was wrapped around his waist.

"Drinks?" John suggested.

"Yes, please." They went to the bar, standing close to each other. They both had a few shots to start, and Alex relished in the buzz, relaxing a bit.

John led him to the dance floor and held him so close that their chests were touching. John gripped Alex's hips and kissed him passionately. "This is gonna be fun," John whispered.

Time passed without their knowledge of it. For hours, the celebrating spouses drank until they couldn't anymore, and danced until their legs didn't want to work anymore. Every so often, Alexander recalled just how exciting John could be while absolutely drunk. He would say the funniest things, making Alex howl with laughter. Oh, and the way John could move to the music...

It was no surprise that they were all over each other when they decided to leave. Their legs tangled together as they stumbled out of the building.

"Look, look," John snickered, showing Alexander his phone. Alex struggled to read the fuzzy words. "I told the Uber guy that I'd pay him extra to deal with our drunk, gay, horniness." Alex giggled hysterically.

Alex sat in John's lap in the back of the car, making out with him like they were back in college and barely over twenty years old. They got back home at one in the morning. The Uber driver had to remind them to pay before they ran into their house. John kept to his promise and kept Alexander up until three.

When John woke up the next morning, he decided to not wake up. He rolled over onto his husband more and kept his eyes shut tightly. His head hurt and his stomach hurt and his body hurt and he wanted to go back to sleep. He did, but only for another hour or so. Afterwards, his brain refused to anything but be awake. John glared at the clock on his bedside table for a while, trying to think clearly, at least.

It was already past noon, John finally comprehended. It was much too late of a wake up time. John looked found his phone, squinting at the brightness. An alarm had gone off hours ago. Its label read "Pick up kids".

"Fuck," John groaned. He reluctantly rolled out of bed and slowly got dressed, all while Alexander got to continue sleeping peacefully. John plodded into the hall, starting to call Eliza to apologize for being late. A phone rang in the kitchen. John's eyebrows furrowed as he walked into the room. Philip, Angie, Eliza, and Angelica were in the kitchen, eating lunch. "What..."

"Good afternoon, John," Eliza greeted with a smile.

"Yeah..." John replied. "What are you doing here?"

"We figured that you weren't coming to pick them up after ten."

"Oh. Thanks."

"Did you have fun?" Angelica asked, placing a glass of water on the table for him.

"Oh, yeah." John smirked, gratefully taking the drink.

"What did you do?"

"Went to dinner. Then a club. Got drunk. Etcetera." He winked. Philip cleared his throat. "What?"

"I'll just...let you talk about that..." Philip went to his room. Angie took Philip's unspoken advice and went to her room, as well.

"Smart kids," John mumbled. "How were they?"

"Wonderful," Eliza said, "like always."

"Good."

"We looked at one of my old scrapbooks."

John raised an eyebrow. "Okay."

"Saw some of the old pictures you gave us."

John's eyes widened. "You let them look at the drawings?"

"Yes."

"Oh."

"We told them about you getting shot," Angelica stated.

John chewed on his fingernail. "How did they react?"

"They were worried about you."

"I'm not surprised."

"They wished you had told them."

"It's not important."

"It seemed important to them."

John sighed.

"We've been thinking," Eliza cut in, "and we think you should have these." She held out a small stack of pictures. The one of Alex's mother, and the rest of John's. "It's better if you have them."

John swallowed heavily and hesitantly took the pictures. "Thank you," he whispered.

A soft thud came from the hall. John hurriedly placed the pictures in the nearest drawer before he went to help Alex. He hoped that Alexander wasn't upset when he saw the picture of his mother in the house, if he ever saw it at all.