I don’t know what to say; I think back on that night when his dad pointed toward the desk after I ran in there, ready to raise hell.

All his dad kept saying was keep, keep, keep, Ambrose, and when the EMTs came, I ignored his points at the desk and just sat next to him.

I held his hand.

And realized I’d killed him.

But I didn’t.

It wasn’t out of shock.

He was sick.

Ambrose stares across the room at me and nods once as a tear falls from his cheek. “I’ll do my best to not be perfect.”

“What a wonderful fantasy…” I whisper. “Imagining you can be perfect.”

“What a beautiful nightmare…” Quinn says next to me. “Owning your dreams.”

I turn to him. “What do you mean?”

“They go hand in hand,” he whispers. “You have to own them both—to have it all…”

The service ends, and I wonder what’s going to happen, but I don’t have to wait for long. Ambrose makes his way toward us after about an hour. Everyone’s down the street at his home—my old home.

He smiles at me, and it feels real.

I don’t know if I should run toward him or away.

“I’ve been waiting for you.” He nods at Quinn. “Thank you.”

Quinn lets go of my hand. “All in a day’s work of being the sidekick.”

“You were never the sidekick.” Ambrose shakes his head. “Some might say you were the main character who just got lost because the bat signal was complete shit.”

“Probably your fault.”

He pauses, then laughs, “Yeah, probably.”

Quinn gives Ambrose a slight punch in the arm and then leans in and presses a gentle kiss to my lips.

A month ago, I’m sure it would have started a fight.

Today, I’m thankful because I know what that kiss means. I once heard a song where the lyrics said it’s time to rise again.

And it is.

It truly is.

I give him a hug, and I wonder so many things… but for now, I need to not fall apart, and I need Ambrose the way he needs me.

He pulls me into his strong arms. “Stay.”

I still against him. I have no words to give him, no courage, only myself, and I hope it’s enough.

Rise.

Just lift your head, show him your eyes—give him your soul.

I nod against his chest.

And I don’t know how long we stand there, holding each other, but it’s long enough that I feel him getting strong again, I don’t know how or why I feel it, but I do.

“I won’t let go.” My lips move against his chest, against his shirt. “I won’t leave you alone, Ambrose. I just knew we all needed time.”

“Time,” he replies. “What a wonderful gift.”

“And horrible curse,” I say.

We both turn toward the casket and stare.

Chapter Forty-Four

Ambrose

“I’m exhausted.” Quinn collapses against my couch and tugs at his black tie. “Why didn’t you tell me your great aunt kisses people on the lips like twenty-four-seven?”