He laughed, his mouth closing in over mine. “That’s true. I mean, if there’s one thing that keeps me up at night, it’s beluga fucking each other, especially at three in the morning when I’m lying right next to you.”

I laughed, but then his mouth grew more commanding, and I knew the talking was done for the night. I was okay with that.

I was happy.

• • •

Reese was right. Life happened after that. A lot of life.

His father emerged from rehab six months later sober and he remained that way. Reese got his dad back. It wasn’t quite the same with his mother. She was treated for chronic depression, survivor’s guilt, and post-traumatic stress disorder.

Through the years, she had ups and downs, but she continued to struggle the rest of her life. She was in and out of mental hospitals, but she tried. She really tried.

As for Damian, the first day he met Reese, he beamed from ear to ear. He ate all of his meals. The nurses marveled at how happy he’d been. By that time, he’d already forgotten about me. I was his friend who watched sporting games with him, and then I became Reese Forster’s woman.

I always got a little sad when he called me that. He never understood why, and I never shared. It was easier to go with the new name. It was the happiest for him. He was proud to know me.

He forgot AJ, but not Mickey or his mother. He remembered both to the end.

He passed in his sleep, five years from Roman’s death. The nurses never heard his bed alarm. When they checked on him for their three am rounds, he was gone.

My family came around, but it wasn’t a happily-ever-after ending with them. They were excited to meet Reese, but I was never able to get past what had happened with Damian. A piece of my heart had died, and though I tried to put it back, it never filled again. I was on polite terms with my family. Polite, but distant, and it stayed that way even while I worked close by in marketing for Echo Island Camp.

I remained with the camp for two years, going back and forth from Seattle.

I only needed to be there half the time, when I was in charge of photo ops and had to document all the busy camp schedules. Reese came with me if he wasn’t training in his off-season, and during my off-season at work, I went where Reese was.

I put in my resignation when I was ready for a career change—and remember that book I said I was going to do for therapy? I finished it.

I published it.

And I’m pretty sure two people bought it: one was Reese, and the other was Stan.