I blink away a blossoming tear and look at the floor. I like picturing us together, but the high likelihood we’ll never end up together keeps me from admitting this to him.

What a world.

I don’t look at him as I head to the door. I open it, and the snowy world outside has darkened to a soft gray, promising an early and long night.

I turn to say goodbye when a thought hits me.

“Hey,” I say. “I…I heard about Tasha’s dog. That’s just horrible.”

He nods. “I still can’t believe it.”

I swallow dry. “Any idea of who did it?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t know who’d do something like that,” he says. “I can’t even begin to wrap my mind around it. Wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy, which…hell, Tasha’s not far from that category.” He almost smiles, then pulls back. “Micah. Man, that just about killed him. I mean, how do you explain that to a kid? No child should have to go through a trauma like that.” His expression changes, a flash of nervousness. “I’m sorry, I mean, clearly what Max has gone through—”

“You’re right,” I say. “No kid should have to go through anything traumatic, whether it’s losing a pet or a parent. And you can’t explain it to them. I’ve tried. The best you can do is love them. Promise them you’ll always be there, whether you can keep that promise or not. It’s all you can do.” I lean toward the open doorway, into the cold and growing dark. “Anyway, I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”

“Thank you. I’m sorry, too.” He slides his hands in his pockets and squares his shoulders. “And whatever you’re going through, whatever you have going on tonight. It’ll be okay. You’ll be okay.”

“Is that a promise you can’t keep?” I ask.

He thinks about it, sighs, and to my surprise says, “Yeah, maybe it is. I’ve had a few of those in my life.”

I say nothing else before turning, walking outside, and pulling the door closed behind me.

I stare out at the car, the roads, the billions of flakes, and I’m swept up in painful desperation. A sudden and insatiable desire for everything to just be…over.

Before I can put up my defense shield, a dark and hungry thought swoops in.

How wonderful it would be to drive into a tree. Head-on. Seat belt unfastened. Headfirst, through the windshield, a jagged shard slicing right through my carotid artery. The blood. So much blood, draining in such a hurry from my body I’d feel nothing more than a surge of dizziness, then fatigue, and then a soft and beautiful drifting away. Surrounded by snow, all that blood. Like a piece of performance art.

I have to shake my head to keep the fantasy from growing.

“Let go,” I say aloud.

I trudge to the car, wanting to let go of everything, but still the world clings to my back.