Unfortunately, he’d been too young to choose how he reacted to her, and by the time she had proven herself unworthy of those feelings, it had been too late. Now here he was, relationship after relationship, unable to be that Rico again. The one who had no idea how to be emotionally unavailable.

She had taken that away from him. The reckless freedom of being emotionally available.

After all these years of doing all he could to wipe away his memories of her, the realization hit him like a body blow.

All he had succeeded in doing was building scabs, and blocking himself off emotionally. He was running around in a hamster wheel of his own making.

Closure.

The word ricocheted in his head, setting off a raging longing for relief.

He touched his knee, where throbbing pain wrapped tight on the outside even as it pushed from the inside, the brace holding everything in place until he was healed and ready to go on as normal. Maybe it was time to cut open another wound and sew that torn muscle together too. Regain the use of other parts he had lost.

Zee chugged what was left of his drink. His gaze bounced from the empty glass to Rico.

“There’s plenty more where that came from. Go on. I’m fine,” Rico said.

His friend studied him for another second, then opened and closed his mouth a few times. There was nothing he could say that Rico wanted to hear right now. Zee was smart enough to know this. He thumped Rico’s shoulder and headed to the bar.

The guys rushed at Zee and lifted him up above their heads, carrying him to the dance floor, where EDM boomed against the walls and broke into strobes of fluorescent light. They could have done this anywhere in the world. The wedding was in London, where Zee and Tee were from. But they had chosen to come to Vegas for the bachelor party.

Nevada was right next to California.

That could be a coincidence, but what was it they said about coincidences? That there weren’t any.

Rico leaned his head back and closed his eyes. The psychedelic lights continued to flash behind his lids. The pain on Myra’s face as she told him she was done with him danced there with the lights.

I know you try, but it’s not enough. I’m sorry. Her eyes had brimmed with tears and accusation.

Rico’s own lack of sadness at those words had felt like a hole inside him. Then there had been the relief. The worst part was that Myra had seen the relief and it had multiplied the accusatory hurt in her eyes.

What you feel for me is fondness, not love. Love hurts. I can’t hurt you, no matter what I do.