I was a bit taller, but he had a broader chest. I knew where every tattoo was on his body. I knew he had a soft spot for Harry Styles’ songs and Lucky Charms. I knew his mom would leave him in an empty apartment for days at a time, until she didn’t come back at all. All the things I knew ganged up on me. I watched hope flicker in his eyes before crashing closed.

The silence said it all. I wasn’t swinging into the old habits. I wasn’t taking ownership of his pain anymore.

“Give the fuck up on me then, Austin Burathon.”

It was the first time I ever remember him using my full name. It was a struggle, but I didn’t try to smooth things over, make things better.

Endgame, the biggest blowhard I had ever known, slumped his shoulders then. The fight was out of him. It was over for us. For me.

I expected slamming doors. Things getting thrown. Instead, Endgame walked out of his bedroom and then out the front door, not closing either of them.

The backdraft of emotions and worry hit me. Where would he go? What would happen to him if I wasn’t there to pick up his pieces?

I went to the door and closed and locked it. Sadness and relief. Keeping him together was a huge responsibility, and I was setting it down and walking away.

I sat on my couch, which smelled like beer and had a cigarette burn in it now. It would need to be cleaned. The whole place was going to have to get scrubbed down.

When it had been a while, our bedroom door opened and Taylor stepped into the living room. I held out a hand to her and she crossed the space between us.

“Are you okay?” Her beautiful face was etched with concern.

“It doesn’t feel fair to make you deal with this.” Dealing with Endgame was my cross to bear.

Taylor moved my hair from my face. “How about we don’t worry about keeping score and we just take care of each other?”

“How do you always know the right thing to say?” I put my hand on her chest as she smiled.

“I learned by watching you. I was paying attention all those years. Did he give you any indication about whether or not Roberta did anything here?” She glanced around the room and seemed to be looking for ghosts.

“He said he didn’t recognize the lanyard. He was lying. It’s what he does—he lies.” I rubbed her back.

“I’m sorry.” She rested her head on my chest.

“It’s a ball of crap we have to deal with here,” I mumbled into her hair looking at the destruction around us.