Like me, he hesitates, and I wonder if he’s going to tell me something at all. Or maybe he’ll decide against the whole honesty thing. If he refuses, I’m not sure what comes next.

“I’m glad I wasn’t here,” he says softly, like he’s letting me in on a secret. “When my father died. I’m glad I wasn’t here.”

I glance over at him, disbelief surely written across my features.

“I know that sounds fucking awful, because if I’d been here, I could have spent time with him. Could have had one last visit with him before he was gone. But on the other hand, if I’d been here, I don’t think I would have handled it very well. Watching my mother and brothers fall apart . . . watching him be whisked away in an ambulance without being able to do anything to help him. Is it crazy if I say I’m happy that those aren’t my last memories of my dad?”

I find my voice. “It’s not crazy. And part of me understands that completely.”

He gives me a quick glance to check my reaction. Surely, he can see that I’m sincere. I don’t judge him at all for this admission.

“Your turn.”

“Total honesty?” I ask.

I guess this is our new thing—this little catchphrase before we say something we wouldn’t otherwise admit to a total stranger. Why does this feel so much harder than I thought it would? My heart is beating fast, and my hands feel shaky.

Logan nods to encourage me, giving me a reassuring look, but I’m still uncertain if I should really share what’s lingering on the tip of my tongue. He’s probably going to think I’m a monster.

I take a deep breath, then give him my truth. “I paid someone to deliver my mother’s eulogy.”

“What? Why?” The words leave his lips in a rush, and he stands up straight, forgetting about starting the fire and concentrating entirely on me.

I smile gently. “Because I knew I wouldn’t be able to deliver it myself. I was a mess, barely able to function, so I knew there was no way I could stand in front of people and speak. And my mom’s best friend felt the same. There was no one else but us, and I couldn’t stomach the idea that no one would stand up for Mom and talk about the amazing woman she was, about the incredible and selfless life she’d lived.”

Swallowing hard, I gather my composure. It was such a difficult and dark time. I give myself a moment to draw a few steadying breaths as flashbacks slam into me.

“I found this website where you can hire someone for a small fee, and I paid seventy-five dollars to a woman who was well-versed in public speaking.”