I look at him sideways.

   “Micky told me,” he says.

   I don’t care.

   He takes a deep breath then sighs out loud.

   I don’t say anything. I just sit on the bench and wait for him to fuck off.

   “You know I asked Micky to marry me, right?”

   Oh God, I cannot have this conversation with him—not now. I stay silent.

   He continues, “I asked Kevin, her dad. I asked his permission before I did it.”

   “So?” I bite out. I don’t know where this conversation is going, but I hate that we’re having it. “She said no, right?”

   “Yeah, she did. That’s not the point I’m trying to make, so quit being a jerk and let me finish.”

   I’m quiet.

   “Kevin was a really good guy. He loved his girls more than anything. But my dad’s kind of a prick. He’s one of those dads you’re always trying to impress, you know? Like nothing you do is ever good enough.”

   I remember his dad from the funeral. I get it.

   “Anyway, Kevin was different—he always accepted you. His girls could have been or done anything, and he would have always loved and encouraged them.”

   I wait for him to go on.

   “What I’m trying to say is, when I asked him for permission, he kind of just looked at me strange for a few seconds, and I swear I thought he was going to say no. Then he clapped me on the shoulder and said, ‘James, she’s eighteen, so I can’t stop you. I think it’s a little young, but I was eighteen when I met Denise, so I can’t talk. I’m sure you will both make the right decision, and she’ll learn to love you as a husband.’ ”

   He clears his throat. “I was so happy he was okay with it, I didn’t even think about what he said until later—that she would ‘learn’ to love me as a husband.” He pauses for a bit, thinking about his next words. “I get it now, Jake. I know what he meant. She shouldn’t have to learn to love me like that—she just should. Somehow, Kevin knew that she didn’t. And now I see the way she is with you, the way she looks at you, and that’s how it should have been. Like you’re the only one. You’re it, Jake—you’re all of it. Her forever.”

FORTY-SEVEN

MIKAYLA

   I call Lucy to pick me up from the hotel and take me home. I didn’t hear from Jake. I even made sure my phone was fully charged. Nothing.

   I think we’re done.

   When we pull into our driveway, Logan’s leaning against his car.

   “Asshole,” Lucy greets him with a nod.

   “Kinky hornbag,” he replies, but she’s already reversing out the driveway. He turns to me. “Where were you?” he asks.

   “Long story. How is he?”

   “Who?”

   “Jake.”

   “What? I don’t know.”

   “Oh.” I thought for sure Jake would be with him.

   “What about Jake?” he asks, eyeing me curiously.

   “Nothing. What’s up? What are you doing here?” I’m not looking at him, but I can feel him watching me. It’s awkward and uncomfortable, so after a few seconds I look up.

   He’s still watching me.

   So we stand there for a few seconds—minutes? Who knows. We wait for one of us to talk first. Finally, he breaks the silence.

   “My friend’s mom is selling her car. It’s in your budget. I thought I’d take you to look at it now?” He says this like a question.

   “Okay,” I say quietly.

   I bring my and Jake’s overnight bags into the house and drop them just inside the front door. Then I get into Logan’s car.

   He drives us about ten minutes away to look at the car. It’s perfectly fine for what I need and in my budget. I tell her I’ll take it but won’t be able to get the money until Wednesday.

   On the ride back home, Logan asks, “So I’ll pick you up on Wednesday, yeah?”

   “Thanks.” I still haven’t said much, and he hasn’t asked about Jake again.

   Awkward silence.

   Then a tear falls down my cheek, and I wipe it away quickly. I turn to look at him. “I love him, Logan,” I say. Because if I can’t tell Jake, then somebody needs to know.

   He looks at me before turning back to the road. “No shit,” he deadpans.

   “But I think we’re done.”

   He shakes his head, still looking straight ahead. “You guys will never be done.”

   “He’s the one for me—was the one. He was my happily-ever-after.”

   “So what’s the problem?”

   “I can’t give myself to him.”

   “What do you mean?”

   “I’m not who I want to be yet. I’m not ready to give him everything. I’m still broken, and I need to pick up the pieces of myself and put them back together. If I give myself to him, I have to be complete. I can’t be half the person I want to be.”

   He pulls over to the side of the road and turns the car off. Then he looks at me for what seems like a lifetime. “I’m sorry, Micky,” he says. I look down, because I am, too. I’m so fucking sorry. “I’m sorry, but I think you’re wrong,” he continues.

   My eyes dart to his.

   “Jake saw you at your worst. He was there when your life changed and your heart shattered. He was there to help you piece some of it back together. He’s seen it all, Micky. He’s seen you at your worst, and he still fell in love with you—like, truly the forever kind of love with you. And I’m sorry, because I think you’re making a mistake. Maybe you don’t need to be a complete person, or maybe you do. But maybe he’s it—maybe he’s the other half of you.”

FORTY-EIGHT

MIKAYLA

   When Logan drops me off, I see Jake’s truck in the driveway. I fumble to open the car door before Logan even brings it to a complete stop. I rush to open the front door, because I really, really need to see him. I need to tell him that I love him and that I need to be with him—like, be with him.

   “Jake!” I call out.

   “In here!”

   “Where?” I stop just inside the front door, trying to hear where he’s calling from.

   “Here!”

   I walk down the hallway and look in the study. He’s not there. Then I look into my room.