Then there were the times Crystal would move from one location to another with her team and he wouldn’t hear from her for a few weeks. But it never bothered him. They had a plan. They’d known it would be hard for a few years, but it would be worth the struggle. Once they were out of the army and out of school, they’d have a great life. That was the plan.

Until today. Time 17:57. He’d opened the letter.

Ketch had stopped thinking at 17:58. He’d stopped believing in dreams. He simply sat through his night class in a daze and now pushed through the drunken crowd cussing to himself.

She’d written him a damn letter. A real letter. Her first. Her last.

No fast text sent off in anger, but a letter. She’d had to think about it. Walk over and mail it. It was sent six days ago, meaning she’d had six days and nights to change her mind. Six days to send an email to tell him not to read the letter. She’d made a mistake. Nothing had changed. She still loved him.

But she hadn’t. The letter said it all. It took Crystal just one page to say goodbye. She’d even listed why it wouldn’t work between them, like she’d been keeping a list since the day they met, and finally she had one too many reasons to leave him.

He’d thought she really loved him. He should have learned that lesson at six years old. No one would ever bother to care about him. Never. And he swore he’d never expect it again.

Crystal had loved her job. He’d been searching all his life to find where he belonged. A home, a real place to call his own. You’d think at twenty-six he’d give up on dreaming. He’d wasted a third of his life looking for something that didn’t exist.

His only plan tonight was to prove he wasn’t good enough for her. He’d erase her memory if it took half the alcohol in the bar.

Wynn Henry Wills yelled his name and Ketch started navigating across the crowded room to his lab partner in chemistry. Wills wasn’t his friend even though they’d had several classes together, and as a lab partner he was about as much help as a cracked beaker.

Ketch was at the top of the grading curve and Wynn was balanced at the other end. Two sides of the seesaw. The only reason WW hadn’t been kicked out of school was simple: a building on campus was named after his grandfather. He was trying to pack six or seven years into getting a four-year degree. Partying was his major and bragging his minor.

Ketch didn’t need anyone to try and reason with tonight. He needed someone to drink with and Wynn Wills was just the man.