He has a file, one that requires a password to get into it. One night, while I was drinking coffee and browsing on the laptop Barry had given me while Eva slept in her crib, I typed in Freckles0907 – the date we first kissed in the tent – and it opened. I’d spent hours browsing the images and video clips, the recording of him laughing while I tried to sing every song from The Greatest Showman. Me running on the manor grounds with the dogs chasing after me. Him kissing my cheek while we had a picnic at Lunderston Bay beach.
