The whole funeral is a mess. People are hysterical, running around to the nearest drink station, crying their eyes out. It’s not what mom would have wanted. She was a purist, in the most natural sense. She would have wanted me to take her ashes to the shore with Jenna. But Dad is a traditionalist. He’s got his set ways and I guess a person has to have a big blow out funeral, right?

Of course, Dad doesn’t know that I know the people at the crematorium and I got her ashes from a friend. Okay, that sounds creepier than it is.

“Nancy lived a full life…” the Priest drones on, the same guy who tried to marry Olivia and me.

“I know it’s wrong, but I keep looking at the exits, like I’m planning my escape,” Jenna whispers in my ear.

“I’m doing the same thing, sister. Can’t stand these things,” I whisper.

“Mom is rolling in her grave right now,” she says. “I think I’m leaving right after the ceremony. I can’t stick around for the food.”

“We have to meet with everyone,” I tell her. “It’s part of the thing.”

“The thing?” she asks.

“You know, the part where people tell you how sorry they are in order to make themselves feel good,” I whisper.

“Oh.” She smiles. “That thing. Right.”

My dad looks at us, horrified. “Stop, you two. This is your mother. Show some respect,” he says. We quiet down, eternally the same two kids he raised.

After the ceremony, we exit to the front. Everyone stands in line to grab the buffet style food, cooked to a half-perfection, while we wait off to the side, shaking hands and saying, “Thank you for coming.”

“I literally have no idea who any of these people are,” Jenna says. “And I don’t think Mom did either.”

“Yeah, it’s like any small acquaintance can attend your funeral. It’s kind of disheartening,” I say.

I glance in my pocket for the hundredth time and Jenna notices. “Why do you keep doing that?” she asks me. I keep checking my phone every two minutes.

“Nothing,” I say.

“Olivia?”

“She has to text me back. She has to. I don’t get it. How can you just ghost someone? I’m trying not to put any weight to it, but come on. Enough is enough,” I say.

“Haven’t you heard? Everyone ghosts each other nowadays,” she says.

“Yeah, well. That’s not Olivia. She’s attentive. She’s different,” I protest.

“I don’t know,” she shrugs. “I don’t mean to put salt into any wounds, James, but maybe I was wrong. Maybe she’s really over it. I thought it would be an easy thing to forgive. I mean, I don’t know… I’ve done worse to my husband.”

I’m not ready to throw my cards in and walk away. It’s not about losing. It’s about not getting what you came for. It’s about a promise hanging in front of you, yanked away by the hounds of love. I’ll keep chasing the chain if I have to. I’ll search to the ends of the fucking earth.

“You’re wrong,” I say.

“James,” she whispers. “Come on. It might be time to move on?”

She asks it in a question, as if I’m supposed to answer, saying, “Yes, of course I’ll move on. It’s what any man should do. Don’t mind the fact I’m still in love with her. That doesn’t matter one bit.”

The whole thing enrages me, so I walk out. Past the line of sorry people, past the giant, stained glass doors, I move outside to the back of the parking lot and sit on the hot cement. My sister is wise. She always knows what’s really going on. If she says Olivia wants to move on, I need to relax and let life happen.

It’s like the bullets won’t stop hitting me.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I instinctually reply to a familiar voice. My stomach clutches my organs. I shirk back and jump up. “Olivia?” I blink once or twice. It’s her. She’s standing in front of me. She’s swaying on the backs of her heels. I’m ready to grab her, to feel her soft body against mine, but I wait because I have no idea what she’s here for.

“I came to pay my respects,” she says. “I saw your text and looked up the funeral date in the newspaper. I hope it’s okay that I’m here. Sorry I’m late.”

A hummingbird flies by her ear, nearly whisking her hair up into the air. She pays no attention to it. I step forward in disbelief. “No, it’s fine. It’s, uh, really thoughtful that you came.”

“Should we go inside?” she asks.

I shrug and bite my tongue. “You know what? I’d rather stay out here for a bit,” I say. “Inside is a bit too much for me right now. You can go in if you want.”

She glances over at the door. She’s wearing a long, black dress. Even in her funeral attire, she looks like an angel. “No,” she whispers. “I think I’ll stay out here with you.”

“Okay.” I smile and place my hands in my pockets. “So, what have you been up to? Been busy?”

She looks away, past my left shoulder. Her eyes move toward mine, moving from side to side, analyzing my every emotion. She moves one step back, undecided. “No, not really. I’ve been around. I’ve been taking walks. Sometimes I go to the bar. I don’t know,” she says. “I just needed some time alone, I guess.”

“You’ve been going to the bars?” I ask her. “For what reason?”

“Why does it matter? You jealous?” She laughs and steps forward. We’re close, so fucking close. We’re only a foot apart. What’s stopping me from grabbing her and pulling her into my arms? Why am I so hesitant all of a sudden? I’ve never been like this in my life.

“Not jealous,” I reply. “Just curious.” Okay, I’m a little jealous. Whatever dickhead guy she’s meeting at the bar can fuck right off. It takes all of my strength to not freak out in front of her.

“Curious, huh. Interesting,” she says.

“What?” I laugh. “Don’t believe me?”

“Not really,” she says. “Not after those text messages.”

“Yeah, well,” I step forward an inch and pause. “That was then. This is now. I’m over it.”

“You’re over it? You don’t care that I go to the bar and meet with strange men? Men of all types and sizes,” she says. Her smile is devious. I know she’s just trying to fuck with me. She takes another step forward, about an inch. We’re so close to one another.

“It might make my blood boil a little bit,” I admit. “But I’ve promised my new girlfriend I’d take her out to dinner tonight. Oysters and caviar. You know, no big deal.”

“You’re an ass.” She slaps my arm.

I grab her hand, out of pure instinct. She opens her mouth wide. I’m not sure if she’s going to laugh loudly or yell at me, so before she does anything too drastic, I say, “I’m a huge ass.”

She laughs. Thank God, she laughs. I let go of her hand and let it fall. It brushes against my ribs, falls down to my hips. It catches my belt loops and stops. Her fingers intertwine through those loops and I feel the serotonin flooding through my brain. There it is. That feeling. Love. Of course, it’s accompanied by extreme thoughts of lust, but the love is there alright.

“Who’s the new girlfriend, huh?” she asks, twisting her tongue about in her mouth.

“You don’t know?” I ask.

“No, that’s why I’m asking,” she says.

“It’s you.” I smile and grab her waist. I pull her close to me. She doesn’t object. That’s when I know that she’s mine again. She won’t be leaving me. She’s back in my arms. Her lips are close to mine. I lower my head and she raises hers. Our lips crash together, exploding like fireworks in the sky. My body is pounding with extreme emotion. When I taste her, I remember what it’s like. It all comes flooding back.

I pull away and take a deep breath in. “It’s me?” she asks. “How come I wasn’t made aware of this?”

“Enough joking,” I tell her. “Olivia, I want you back. Are you going to be with me or not? Because I’m not going to wait around forever.” That’s a fucking lie. I’d wait until the sun burns out if it meant having her back.

“I don’t know, James.” She hesitates and tries to falter back, but I don’t let her. I keep her in my hands. She bites her lower lip. Come on, Olivia. I know what you want.

“Then you need to let me go,” I say. I let her move from my grasp. She doesn’t. She stands completely still. Instead, I back up and begin walking away from her. I move toward the front doors that lead into the funeral. I just keep walking.

“James!” she shouts. I stop, but don’t turn around. I’ve had enough of these games. “I can’t let you go, James. I just can’t.”

I turn around and look at her. Her body has hunched a little under duress. She gives an exhausted look. She is beautiful in every way. She will always be the most gorgeous woman on the planet.

“Then what are we doing?” I ask her, now ten feet away.

“I want to be with you,” she says. “And I want to trust you.”

“I know it’s hard,” I tell her. “But we have to trust each other. You’re the only girl for me, Olivia. I can’t stand being away from you. This was the worst week of my life, dammit. I need you here.”

“Then promise me you’re not going to pull any more weird shit on me. Promise that your dad isn’t going to rely on patriarchal expectations. I want to be with you, but you need to reassure me, James,” she says. “I want to feel special again.”

“Are you joking?” I laugh and walk back to her. I pull her in my arms. My thigh brushes against her, in between her legs. I’m so fucking hard I could fuck her in this parking lot. “I’ll worship you, woman. I’ll do whatever it takes. You know that? I promise that if you stay with me, it’ll be the best decision you’ve ever made.”

“Please don’t hurt me,” she whispers. “Love me.”

“I’ll love you forever,” I tell her. It’s the God’s honest truth. “Want to get out of here for a bit?”

She nods her head, but stops short. “Don’t you have to be in there?” she asks.

“You didn’t know my mom, but she hated funerals. If she was still alive, she’d be pushing my ass away from this parking lot with force. Trust me on that,” I say.

“Where will we go?” she asks me.

I shrug. “Your place? Or mine?”

The eternal question. “Yours,” she says. “I always liked it better at your place.”

I grab her hand, feeling the infinite beat of life rush inside of me. I have her back. God dammit, I got her back.