“Hey, stranger.”

I looked up from the magazine I’d been reading in Mrs. Crabtree’s waiting room and found a familiar face I hadn’t seen in a while. My old roommate was standing in front of me.

“Christine!” I stood and gave her a quick hug. All of Dillon’s public displays of affection must’ve rubbed off on me. That and it was nice to see her after so long. “How’ve you been?”

“Good.” She paused and looked around the empty room. “Well, maybe not good good since I’m here, but you know what I mean. Things could be, and have been, a hell of a lot worse. So I’ll survive this setback just like I have all the others.”

“Is it anything I can help you with?”

“Nah, I’ve got it covered.” She dropped down on the couch and patted the spot where I’d been sitting. “But you can cheer me up by letting me know that things are still going strong between you and your hottie. I don’t think I could handle it if you told me you’re here because the two of you broke up.”

“We didn’t break up.” I laughed softly, shaking my head. I’d really missed how funny Christine could be. We’d had more than our fair share of crazy conversations in the years we’d lived together, and they were some of my favorite memories from college. “Dillon’s appointment was after mine, so I’m just waiting for him to finish up.”

“You aren’t broken up, but you’re already at the point where you need couple’s therapy?” She glanced at the door to the therapist’s office. “Or pair’s therapy or whatever it’d be called when you have back-to-back appointments instead of talking shit out together.”

“Relationship wise, we’re good. We’ve just had some other challenges we needed to deal with.” Her eyes grew huge when I gave her a quick run-down of what’d happened.

“Whoa. I’ve heard and seen some crazy shit in my life, but that’s a lot even by my standards. Like telenovela level stuff.”

Back in our junior year, she’d gotten addicted to watching telenovelas when her Spanish professor had suggested it as a way for his students to work on their language skills. It’d just about driven me insane because she had them on practically non-stop, but in the end her professor had been right. I’d even picked up a fair amount of Spanish, and I’d taken French in high school. And sadly, she was right. What’d happened with Dillon and me was a truth that was even stranger than the craziest fiction.

“Yeah, you’d think after the shit I’d gone through during my childhood that the universe could cut me a break and let Dillon and I be happy. But nope. That’s not how life works, I guess.”

“But you said you guys were good, right?”

“Yeah, things could be better between Dillon and his parents but I think he’s getting there. It took him about a month before he went back to work for his dad and since school doesn’t start back up for me until next week, it meant we got to spend all that time together. Between that and the work we’ve been doing with Mrs. Crabtree, both alone and together, I think we’re even better than before. We faced our challenges and came out stronger for it in the end.”

“Maybe the universe does know what it’s doing then,” she sighed. “Even though it’s hard to see when we’re in the thick of things.”

“Maybe,” I conceded. But I still would’ve preferred to have not had everything thrown at us the way it had been.

“I miss our middle of the night chats.” She bounced on the cushion. “I know! You guys should get married so I can throw you a bachelorette party. It’d be the perfect excuse for a sleep-over.”

“Dillon and I don’t need to get married for you to come over and spend the night. We have a spare bedroom, you know.” Or at least it was kind of an extra now that Dillon’s best friend, Corey, had stopped crashing in it off and on.

“C’mon. Haven’t you ever thought about doing the whole marriage and kids thing with Dillon?”

Shockingly enough, I had. That’s how much I loved him. Enough to get past my fear of abandonment and consider a future that included being his wife and having his children. “Yeah, I have.”

“And judging by that dreamy look on your face, I’m expecting to get a call in the near future telling me you’re engaged and want me to be the maid of honor. If I know your hottie at all, he’s dying to put a huge rock on your finger to warn off other guys.”

“If we get married, will you stop calling him my hottie?”

“Nope. Never.” Her eyes lit up when she looked towards the door. “’Cause that’s exactly what he is. Hot and yours.” Then she stood up and walked over to Dillon to give him a hug. “Long time, no see. We all need to do a better job of not being strangers.”

“Yeah.” Dillon flashed her a grin, and any tension I’d felt about how his appointment had gone, or if he’d overheard my conversation with Christine, disappeared. He looked happy, and it was exactly how I liked him to be. “We need to have you over for dinner or something. Maybe throw a party before classes start up again for Faith.”

“Oooh! A party! Yes, that!” Christine clapped her hands together. Mrs. Crabtree came up behind Dillon and cleared her throat, causing Christine’s excitement to dim. “Like a perfectly innocent dinner party, since we’re all adults now and don’t party like we’re in college anymore.”

I wasn’t sure what that was all about, but I didn’t get the chance to ask. Christine waved goodbye before she stepped into Mrs. Crabtree’s office and shut the door behind her.

Dillon quickly took her place at my side. “I wasn’t expecting to see Christine here.”

“Neither was I, but it makes sense I guess. Sarah was her case worker too, so she probably recommended Christine talk to Mrs. Crabtree at some point in time.”

“Smart choice. I wish everybody had a Mrs. Crabtree in their life.” He led me to the elevator with his hand at the small of my back. “Now that I think of it, I should pass her card along to Corey. I bet she could help him deal with the shit that happened with his parents. I probably should’ve done it weeks ago.”

“Cut yourself some slack. It’s not like you haven’t been a good friend to him. And you’ve been dealing with your own problems.”

“True,” he conceded. “But I feel like I’m through the worst of it now. I’m finally coming to terms with the accident, my survivor’s guilt, and the decisions my parents made.”

“Does that mean today’s the day?” I asked after we were in the SUV and pulling out of the parking garage.

“Yeah, I think it is.”

I hadn’t been sure what to think when Dillon had told me Mrs. Crabtree’s suggestion a couple of weeks ago. She thought it would be beneficial to his progress if he visited Declan’s graveside and talked through everything with his twin. Dillon had been skeptical at first too—which was understandable since Declan was dead. It would be a one-sided conversation in a cemetery. It seemed way out there to me, but eventually Dillon had come around to Mrs. Crabtree’s way of thinking and said it might help. So I’d gotten one-hundred percent behind the idea, too. Which meant that when we parked on the winding road that ran through the cemetery and Dillon froze, I needed to help him through this.

“I’m not sure this is such a great idea,” he murmured, staring out the window of his SUV towards the row of headstones and statues where Declan was buried.

I reached over and grabbed his hand, tugging until he turned towards me. “You were sure before we got here. It’s just the nerves talking. Ignore them, get out of the car, and go tell Declan whatever it is you feel you need to say to him.”

“You’re not going to let me get out of this, are you?”

I shook my head. “Nope.”

“I just had to fall for a tough girl,” he sighed before climbing out of the car. It hadn’t taken much prodding on my part, so I knew I’d done the right thing. He waited for me to get out and kept his hand on my lower back as we walked about fifty feet in before he stopped.

“This is it.”

My eyes filled with tears when I looked down at Declan’s grave and saw the bouquet resting against it. “Those flowers look fresh.”

“Yeah, my mom comes once a week to tend to the grave. She makes sure everything looks okay, sits for a while, and brings a new bouquet each time.” He moved the flowers to the side a little and ran his fingers over the words and numbers engraved into the stone marker. “I never asked why they didn’t include his date of birth and death, only the years. I don’t think I ever even really noticed it until now.”

“That’s understandable. You were grieving, honey.”

“My mom comes weekly. My dad at least once a month. But me? This is only my third time here. I came right after I was discharged from the hospital, and then again the first night I went to an underground poker game. But it was too hard to be here and know he was in the ground while I was walking around.”

“And now?”

“It isn’t nearly as bad as I thought it would be. It still hurts like a motherfucker, but I’m not struggling with the guilt like I was back then.” He reached up and stroked my cheek. “Even knowing everything, I’m handling it better. Because of you.”

“Not just because of me,” I disagreed. “You’re the one who put the work in. Talked to Mrs. Crabtree, and did what needed to be done to come to terms with something that would’ve destroyed most people.”

“But I’m not most people.” He brushed his lips softly against mine. “I’m the man you love.”

I felt the tears as they slid down my cheeks. “That you are.”

“I just wish Declan could’ve met you. Even if only once.”

“How about you introduce me now, and then I’ll leave you to say what needs to be said in private?”

It must have been the right thing to offer because Dillon gave me a grateful smile before turning towards the headstone once again.