He shrugs. “I go back to work next Monday. The world doesn’t care that you lost your best friend. Your brother. Your fiancé. It’s a blessing and a curse. You’re forced to get back on the hamster wheel, whether you’re ready or not.”

“I’m not ready to human again,” I say.

“You will be.” He swallows hard, his eyes glittering with unshed tears as he reaches to move a lock of red hair from my forehead. “Eventually. And when you do, I hope you find what you are looking for, Ever.”

And then I realize I forgot something. I pull the engagement ring from my finger and hand it over to him. It comes off easily, since I’ve barely eaten all week. “Can you give this to Gemma? Please? I’m sure she’d want this, and she is busy—”

“With Sarah.” Joe pushes off the tree trunk and starts to make his way back to the church. I follow him. “Don’t read too much into that. Right now you’re deep in your feelings. Sarah is a doctor. She is clinical and pragmatic. She is exactly what Mom and Dad need.”

“I’m not mad.” But I am; I just know it’s ungracious to be. “Take the engagement ring,” I reiterate.

“As much as I’d love to be your errand boy, I think you should give it to Gemma yourself.” He tromps past the church. Where is he going?

“I’m leaving,” he says, as if reading my thoughts. “I can’t do this.”

“Can’t do what?” I follow him, running after him.

Joe unlocks his car and slides into the driver’s seat. “Can’t watch them lower him to the ground. It’s fucked up. And knowing Dom—he wouldn’t want either of us to see it. Come with me, Ever.”

He stops. Stares at me expectantly.

I’m standing in front of the driver’s side of his car. The door is wide open.

I look back at the church. People are starting to trickle out.

“My dad and my brother are there.”

“They’ll understand,” he says with conviction.

“Where to?” I ask, stunned.

“My apartment.”

“I don’t trust myself with you.” God, how awful am I that I admit this out loud to the brother of the man I was supposed to marry while he is being buried? Does human selfishness know any bounds?

A grim smile touches his lips. “That makes both of us.”

I take a step back. I don’t want to do something I’ll regret, and I think I might regret this very much if I get into the car with Joe right now. I feel myself shaking my head.

Joe hangs his head down. His signature wilted-flower move.

“I hate this.” Fresh tears sting my eyes.

“Saying goodbye again?”

I nod. How many times can he and I lose each other?

“Hug me?” I shrug.