Bronwyn’s family, who had moved away from Hillstone a few years ago, appeared in Vegas and took her. They were having the funeral and burying her somewhere in South Carolina, so they could be close to her. I wouldn’t be able to attend. I wouldn’t be able to say goodbye.

They took her things, leaving behind the furniture, the dishes, the photographs on the walls. And me.

I wanted to go home. The apartment without Bronwyn was unbearable. I wanted to see my parents and have Christmas and forget about everything else. But before I could do that, I had to see Nico. Bronwyn would want me to.

It took five minutes of incessant knocking before he finally answered.

“What?” he slurred. His eyes were bloodshot, his face pale and gaunt. He smelled like I felt. I glanced behind him at the disaster that had become his apartment. I pushed past him and went inside.

“Go away.”

I ignored him, bending down and picking dirty clothes and garbage off the floor. He slapped them from my hands.

“I don’t want you here!” he shouted into my face, his breath a vapor going up my nose. “Leave!”

I backed away, but didn’t go, despite my fear. I gathered up a stack of dishes with molding food on them and put them in the sink.

Nico’s arms were crossed over his chest but he was swaying slightly on his feet. He swore at me as I continued to tidy up, throwing his clothes in a hamper and getting rid of empty pizza boxes and take-out containers. I filled up a huge black garbage bag with empty beer bottles.

“You can’t do this,” I said.

“Can’t what? Grieve?”

“You can grieve,” I said, not looking at him, “but you can’t live like this. She wouldn’t want you to.”

I didn’t know if his legs gave out or he’d just given up on life, but suddenly Nico was on the floor curled into the fetal position. I put aside the garbage bag and knelt down beside him.

“Don’t talk about her,” he said, but there was no anger in the words, just despair. “You don’t know…”

“You’ll kill yourself this way,” I said. “Is that what you want?”

He put his hands over his ears like he didn’t want to listen.

I removed his hands and held them in my own. “She’s watching you right now. And she’s crying.”

He squeezed his eyes shut.

“She should be up there, rejoicing. There’s no more pain, no more suffering for her, only joy. But instead, she’s watching you destroy yourself and I bet you anything she’s wishing she could be here to help.”

“But she’s not,” he whispered.

“No, she’s not.” I didn’t know if Bronwyn’s tough love had ever worked on Nico, or if she had even tried it. But I had to help somehow. “You have to do it on your own now.”

It took him a long time to reply. “I can’t.”

“You have to.” I gave his hands a tug and he sat up. “You can still be sad. You can cry. You can be angry and you can miss her until it feels like you might break.” I let go of his hands and waved them at the bag full of bottles. “But you can’t do this to yourself. She wouldn’t want this.”

He stared blankly and didn’t respond. After a few minutes, I got to my feet and finished tidying the apartment. When I left, with two full garbage bags in my hands, he still hadn’t moved.

I headed down the stairs, my mind still on Nico. It wasn’t enough. He would keep drinking himself into a stupor, or worse. Bronwyn had worried that he would die and no one would know. It seemed even more likely now. But I couldn’t stay, couldn’t take care of him like Bronwyn had. He needed to figure this out on his own.

Down in the gym, I waited until I caught Jay’s eye. He looked about as pleased to see me as Nico had been. That didn’t stop him from coming over, his scowl smoothing as he got closer.

I tugged on the garbage bags. “Is there somewhere I can throw these?”

He motioned his head to a back door. I headed for it but he beat me there, holding the door open. He followed me out, then grabbed the garbage bags from my hands and tossed them into a dumpster.

“Thanks.”

He nodded. His mouth seemed to be glued shut.

A faint smell of rotting vegetables wafted from the dumpster so I went for the door. Jay held it open for me again.

“Are you okay?” he asked when I was right beside him.

I glanced at him and my body started to tremble. “I’m going home.”

He rocked toward me, then back. “You won’t come back. Will you?”

Tears stung the corners of my eyes. I lowered my head. I had to get out of there before I broke down in front of him. “Check on Nico once in a while.”

“Maggie, I really am sorry.”

He wasn’t lying, I could hear the sincerity in his voice. I moved away from him before I did something stupid, like grab onto him, hold him. Feel someone else’s strength holding me up. Walking through the gym, I kept my head down, I couldn’t bear to look at anyone.

That was the last I talked to Jay Thornton that year.