“Don’t worry yourself. It’s par for the course around here. And I pieced a little together between what you said at the funeral and the bits Ember relayed from the cemetery—which wasn’t much. What was it you said, Josh? Paisley loved him more than all of us, right? That’s why you avoided her.” I leveled my stare on him, and he deflated.

“They had dated, and I knew they were still tight, and I felt so fucking guilty for living when he didn’t,” Josh said in explanation.

“She didn’t love him most!” I screamed the words I’d held back for far too long. “I did!” I turned back to Paisley, who now had Jagger’s arm around her waist. Even now, she was supported. “I loved him most. Not you. Not Peyton. She never chose him. She broke him. Then you had him and still chose Jagger, remember? I’m the one who always chose Will when I wasn’t prioritizing your happiness. I. Chose. Will. You didn’t. The fact that he didn’t bother to choose me back until he was on his way to become a martyr doesn’t change the fact that I loved him most!”

My gaze dropped to Paisley’s wings, the necklace she’d been given the night of the flight school ball.

“He might have died with Peyton’s name on his lips, but it was my necklace he had around his neck. The necklace that Grayson brought back with Will’s body. The one he and Sam helped me put into the casket with him the night before we buried him, because if I had his wings, then he should have mine. And now it’s two years later and you’re all just over it! Over him! You’re healed, and happy, and married, and parents, and pregnant, and even though I love you all, I hate you for it! He was supposed to come home to me, not get buried next to her!” A sob tore from my throat, and I crumpled.

Strong arms wrapped around me, and I was enveloped by the scent of the ocean and Jackson as he held me against his chest.

“It’s okay,” he murmured against my hairline as I sobbed into his shirt, grabbing fistfuls of the material to assure myself that he was real. He was here.

I needed to not be here.

“Morgan,” Paisley pled, but Sam stepped between us. “Sam, please. I just need to talk to her. Let me make this better. I. Need. To. Talk. To. Her!”

“Paisley, you know I love you, but this is not about you or what you need right now,” Sam replied in a tone that was kind but firm.

“Since when am I the third wheel around here? You might be the one she chose to come live with her, but that’s my best friend, Samantha! Move!”