She stalked over to him and cupped his jaw in her palm. Jamar didn’t realize he was crying until he felt her brush the tears from his cheek.

“I could never hate you. Ever.” She wiped another tear. “I don’t know whether Silas would still be alive if you’d answered his calls, and neither do you. That truck could have hit him at any time. Even if he’d left at midnight, or whenever that party ended. We will never know, and it’s not our place to question what fate had in store for Silas.”

Her words mirrored Taylor’s so closely that Jamar heard them in Taylor’s voice. But just as it had done with Taylor, his mind refused to allow those words to absolve him from his guilt.

“I stopped blaming you when I finally accepted that no amount of blame would bring Silas back. You can go on blaming yourself, but what will you gain from it, Jamar? How does it honor Silas if you spend the rest of your life punishing yourself?” She squeezed his arm. “You’re the closest thing I have to a brother, and I need you to be here for a very long time.” She gestured to the headstone. “There are better ways to honor Silas than playing football. He was more than just football, and so are you.”

His eyes roamed over her face, over those features she shared with her brother. The broad, flat nose with a smattering of freckles. Sharp, pronounced cheekbones. Deep-set brown eyes.

Eyes that held forgiveness.

“And you don’t have to worry about Big Silas,” Andrea continued. “I’ve handled everything. Between his VA benefits and supplemental insurance plan, his round-the-clock care is paid for. The only person you have to take care of is you.” She gave him a peck on the cheek. “Silas would want you to be happy. You need to find what would make you happy and embrace it.”

Jamar knew what would make him happy. Or rather, who.

He closed his eyes and breathed in a heavy sigh. He’d messed up so damn badly when it came to Taylor. What was he going to do? How was he going to fix this?

He didn’t deserve her forgiveness, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to fight for it anyway. He just had to figure out how.

He had so much to figure out. About Taylor. About this workout. About everything.

“Jamar?”

He opened his eyes.

“Stop overthinking,” Andrea said. “Life isn’t as complicated as you’re making it out to be.” She pressed a finger to the center of his chest. “Let this, and only this, guide you. You got this.”