A total cherry on top.

A knock sounds on my door, and Quinn appears with MB behind him. They’re both in black. MB has a pretty black dress on that hits her at her knees and caps her shoulders. She looks regal, and I miss her so much it hurts.

Quinn’s in a full black suit, and he looks like he hasn’t slept in days, probably because he’s been helping me since I have nobody.

Nobody but him.

I might fall apart right now.

I know I need to learn to face the dark, but I’m terrified I’ll never look back at the light.

At least, that’s what it feels like in the heaviness of my own room as I stare at the suit.

“Hey,” Quinn whispers. “Thought we’d come make sure you didn’t need anything.”

“Loaded question.” I finally answer, then look over at MB. “Are you okay?”

Tears fill her eyes. “I’m good.”

I nod. What else can I do?

Quinn, I can tell, is torn between two worlds, one where I’m his best friend, one where she’s his, one where that’s my girlfriend and foster sister living with him—and finally, one where we both love her.

Eat shit, Shakespeare.

“Guess I’ll just get changed.” I don’t move.

But Quinn does. He grabs my black shirt from the bed and starts to slowly unbutton it—MB moves behind me and tenderly pulls my shirt over my head and tosses it to the ground.

Not the sexy times I imagined—no, this is more like a holy cleansing.

I’m motionless as Quinn puts the shirt on me, and MB buttons it up.

Quinn sighs, then pulls my sweatpants down to the ground as gently as he can. I step out of the ADIDAS pants and swallow the rock in my throat as he hands me the pants.

I shake my head like I can’t do this, man.

He nods his head like, yes, you fucking can, and you will.

I step into the trousers while he pulls them up, and then his hands are grazing my hips. He tugs me against him and presses his forehead against mine. “You will do this, do you understand?”

I say nothing.

His hand grips my chin; his eyes are a blazing heat of fire that has me almost stepping back. Who is this strong person? And why can’t I be more like him?

“Put on your pants,” he whispers. “All you have to do is put on your pants, and then you’re going to take a step, then another, then another, and you’re going to get in my car, and we’re going to drive.”

I finally nod.

MB grabs my jacket and helps me put it on, then wraps her arms around my waist, resting her cheek against my chest, Quinn comes next, holding us all together with his arms, and it feels right, the way it should be like we were always supposed to find each other despite the tragedy that led us here.