“I already knew that she loved him, but thank you for making him real.” My voice was gruffer than I intended. If that night in Afghanistan had gone differently, maybe I still would have met Morgan, but she would have been a tourist wrapped around her boyfriend. I never would have had the chance to fall in love with her.

“You’re welcome. Now, you know that every week Morgan has to record the story of his death and listen to it, right?”

“So that’s the tape recorder.”

“You got it. This is from this week.” She pressed play, and Morgan’s sweet, clear drawl came through. She told the story from start to finish, then the funeral, without so much as a hiccup. There was pain, grief in her voice, but she was concise and in control.

“That therapy sounds a lot like torture,” I remarked as Sam hit stop.

“It has been.” She slid her phone in front of her, swiped it open, and thumbed through her media. “Now listen. I only have this because I was an idiot and thought I was supposed to record it. But when you stand there all frustrated, preaching at her that you’ll be fine and it’s only three months of a beach vacation? This is what goes through her head.” She tapped her phone, and Morgan’s voice came through again.

“I’m…in the grocery store—” Holy shit, she sounded broken. Every word was a struggle. “—picking out a jar of jam, and my phone rings.” She gasped, sucking in air. “It’s Sam,” she cried with a sob.

I braced my head in my hands as my eyes fluttered shut. Like I could somehow block out her pain if I didn’t see the fucking phone.

“She…she…” Her breath was ragged. “I can’t do this. I just can’t.”

“You can, Morgan. You just have to get through it once today. Go as far as you can,” a soothing voice sounded. That had to be her therapist.

“Sam said that there was a crash.” Another pause. “And our friends are hurt.”

“Have some water,” the therapist suggested.

“Thank you.” Another pause. “And Will…he didn’t make it.” Her sobs crush my soul, my ego, my very foundation. “He’s dead. He’s only been there three days, and he’s gone.” She cried so hard my eyes burned, and when I glanced at Sam, she was swiping away her tears.

“I can’t listen to this,” I snapped.

“If she could get through it, so can you,” she retorted.

I locked my jaw as my legs began to fidget, looking for any action I could take to lessen Morgan’s pain.