I let her go and grabbed her hand. “Also, holy shit, that rock is big.”

“It was her grandmother’s,” she said. “She said she’d been waiting for the right time to ask me, but I beat her to it.”

“Holy crap. It’s so beautiful.” My eyes immediately overflowed with tears, for what felt like the fiftieth time today. “Oh my god, of course I’m crying again.” I reached over to the side table for a tissue. “It’s been a long day,” I explained.

“Okay, well, hopefully this won’t make you cry,” said Cleo as she leaned forward, grabbing something out of her purse. “It just came out.”

She passed a copy of Architectural Digest across the table. On the cover was a photo of Eleanor, in a long black tank dress and bright-red flats, perched on her desk. Hayes stood, arms crossed, next to her. Even this tiny version of him, so stoic and serious, shot a pang of longing through my heart.

“I’ve been dying to see this,” I said reverently. The magazine piece, yes. But also, Hayes’s face. I’d missed it.

“You need to read the article inside,” Cleo said, grabbing the magazine and flipping through the pages before sliding it back to me. “Specifically…” She tapped to a paragraph on the page, toward the end.

I scanned the beginning, which was mostly a recap of Hayes and Eleanor’s business, and the history of the office space, which was originally an old tannery. And then I followed Cleo’s finger to this:

Franny Doyle’s use of organic elements to highlight the former industrial space relied on repurposed materials, natural light, and colors that calm anyone who enters, providing a respite not just from the city but from the often dull or overdone design of today’s modern financial centers. “Her vision and execution were integral to creating a workspace that represents the essence and soul of Arbor,” Montgomery told AD. “She represents the future of sustainable design.”

“Wow.” I looked back up at my friends, attempting a calm and collected face. “That’s really nice.”

But inside, my thoughts were bouncing around at warp speed. God, I missed Hayes, and that formal side of him that said stuffy things like “vision and execution.” But I missed the other side of him more: the patient listener, the thoughtful date, the painfully funny dork.

I missed all of him. So much.