Mike Malone just stares at Garrett with his eyes practically bugging out of his head, and Kelly sighs with dreamy eyes. “That’s so sweet.” Then her eyes sort of harden up, and she turns to her husband, slapping him on the arm. “Why can’t you be that sweet?”

“Ow,” Mike grumbles, rubbing his arm. “I am sweet to you. I’m very romantic.”

Kelly snorts and we all start laughing. Garrett reaches a hand out to Mike and they give a quick fist bump, then flutter their fingers at each other. “It’s good to see you, Mike,” Garrett says. “We miss you here.”

“Yeah, wish I could say it was nice to be back, but, fuck…never thought it would be for a funeral.”

The mood suddenly turns somber, and we all nod in agreement.

“Does anyone know what happened?” Mike asks.

“They’re still investigating, but another vehicle came over into Zack’s lane of traffic. He swerved hard to the right to avoid it and lost control. Flipped the car down into a deep ditch. Apparently, Gina wasn’t wearing her seat belt and got thrown from the vehicle.”

“Jesus Christ,” Mike says through gritted teeth. “Why wasn’t she wearing her seat belt? That’s not like Gina.”

“Who knows?” Alex says. “I expect he’ll talk about it when he’s ready. We’ve not been asking too many questions.”

“Yeah…I get that,” Mike says in commiseration. “Just hate it for the dude. And now…single father and, fuck…how do you tell a little boy his mom isn’t coming back?”

The question lays unanswered and heavy among us. Something so simple that could have saved her life. Just a freak accident, a moment in time, and a poor decision. In just a blink her life was over, and we haven’t even really calculated the devastation it’s left behind.

“How is he doing?” Kelly asks as her gaze flicks back and forth between Garrett and Alex.

Alex shrugs and Garrett’s arms tighten around me tensely. Finally, Sutton pipes up. “He’s still sort of in shock, I think. I’m not sure he’s really accepted what happened.”

“I don’t see how you ever accept something like that,” Garrett says to no one in particular. Or maybe everyone. His words hang heavy with sadness, so I bring my hands up to hook over Garrett’s, which are still wrapped around my chest.

“You find a way,” Sutton says firmly. “Zack will find the strength to pull out of his grief. He just needs time.”

“I don’t know,” Garrett says dubiously as he releases his hold on me. I turn my head to look up at him, and his eyes are filled with confusion. He shoves his hands into his pockets and looks over his shoulder at Zack still standing up on the deck. When he turns back to our group, he looks directly at me. “I’m trying to imagine what he’s feeling right now…and I can’t even come close, and yet what I do imagine makes me sick to my stomach.”

My breath catches in my throat, and at this moment, I know Garrett isn’t just talking about Zack. I know he’s envisioning what would happen to him if I were to die. He’s entertaining the possibility and trying to already figure out a way to deal with it.

And I swim with guilt.

“If you all will excuse me…I need to find a bathroom,” I murmur with my eyes downcast. I don’t want anyone to see my eyes, because then they’ll see how wretched I’m feeling at this moment. Not for Zack, and not for Benjamin. Certainly not for myself. I’m feeling terrible about what I’m doing to Garrett.

“It’s down the hallway off the living room…first door on the left,” Garrett says, and I manage to raise my gaze up to his with a plastic smile on my face.

“Thanks. I’ll be back in a minute.”

I turn away from the group before my false smile cracks, and immediately hear Alex talking about Zack again. I don’t take but one step and Garrett’s hand is on my wrist. I turn back toward him and he steps in close to me.

Bending his head down, he peers directly into my eyes while his thumb skims across my skin. “You okay?”

I ratchet my smile up a notch, trying to portray confidence. “Sure. Just need to use the bathroom.”

He stares at me, his eyes flicking back and forth between mine. Trying to discern if there’s something else in there that he’s missing. Apparently, my duplicity is foolproof, because he gives me a relieved smile and kisses me on my forehead. “Okay. Good.”

Pulling my arm away from his grasp, I head toward the house with my shoulders back and my head held high. I make my posture confident as I walk away, because otherwise I’d give in to the urge to just withdraw into myself and immerse myself in pity and guilt.

This has been a bit of an eye-opener for me. I know death is not on my immediate horizon, but it could come into focus a lot sooner than for others my age. There is so much turmoil and pain that is left behind, and there are some things I can do ahead of time to ease that for those I leave behind. I make immediate note that I need to do a will, and also an advanced healthcare directive. I need to make sure my mom knows where I bank and that she’s listed properly as my beneficiary on my meager 401(k) that Stevie provides through Fleurish. Most important, I need to let my mom know what my wishes are when it comes to my funeral. No one should have to bear making those decisions.

It would absolutely slay me in the afterlife if I knew my friends and family—if I knew Garrett—were devastated over my death. I would want them to move on…enjoy life…seek additional love. But that’s beyond my control. I can’t make that happen…only wish it to be so.