“Thanks. And yeah, it was hard for all of us. It still is. Sometimes it feels like there’s this huge hole in my life where Casey used to be. And sometimes I forget he’s gone until something reminds me that he is. Those are the hardest days.”

Declan takes both of my hands in his, cradling them like something precious. “I can’t even imagine.”

I nod. It’s weird because I don’t normally talk about this with people, not even my family, but there’s some part of me that really doesn’t mind Declan knowing this piece of my history. Maybe because it’s pretty much impossible to talk about it with anyone in my family, it feels good to lift the weight that’s been sitting on my chest since Tuesday. And in some way that even I can’t explain to myself, I’m glad it’s Declan who’s helping me do it.

“Anyway, my mom invited me over Tuesday night for dinner to kind of mourn the anniversary together. She was in a terrible mood—understandably—until somehow Aaron came up. She seemed so excited about the idea of me maybe getting back with him that I couldn’t really bring myself to say no to him about going to dinner together tonight, even though I really, really wanted to.”

Declan eyes me for a few seconds, and he looks like he wants to say something but isn’t quite sure. Finally, he releases my hands to rest his palms on the table, but he never takes his eyes off mine.

“I’m going to try to say this as delicately as I can, and please know you’re more than welcome to tell me to fuck off if I’m overstepping,” he starts, but I nod for him to keep going. “You don’t have to live your life for your parents just because your brother died.”

His words strike me with the force of absolute truth. He’s right, and I know he is, but that’s exactly what I’ve been doing. How couldn’t I?

My mother and my father never played favorites with me and Casey, but when he died, everything changed overnight for the three of us. Where they used to have two kids they could invest all their hopes and dreams in, now they only have me. So I’ve been terrified to do or say anything that might disappoint them because in some naïve way, I feel responsible for making up Casey’s death to them. Like somehow, if I work hard enough, get my law degree, and build an incredible career and life for myself, it’ll take all the pain of losing him away from them.

But it won’t.