Ben spent the drive home from David’s the next morning in a whirlpool of emotions. He’d been estranged from his brother for years, the two of them so far removed from each other’s lives that neither one gave the other any intentional thought until their paths were forced to cross for one reason or another. But finally, they’d managed to come together in a way that Ben knew would be the foundation for not only a brotherhood, but a friendship as well. And that realization made him feel lighter than he’d felt in years. Like somehow the world was set back on its axis again and things were as they should be.

Well, almost as they should be. The news about Mike had devastated Ben, and he’d been surprised by his reaction. He had never been especially close to Mike, but Mike’s death had hit him hard. And it had hit Gabe—who’d become pretty close to Mike—even harder.

The guys hadn’t even had much time to process the loss before they were standing by Mike’s grave watching his close friends and family shovel in scoops of dirt. Since Mike was Jewish—a fact that Ben had learned only after Mike’s death—his funeral was the day after Ben got home. Burying someone when they were alive less than two days earlier seemed surreal, like whatever was in that coffin couldn’t have been Mike.

“It was a beautiful ceremony,” Jace said as they walked back to Gabe’s car.

“Why do people always say stuff like that?” Ben asked. “It’s a funeral. There’s nothing good about it.”

Jace shrugged. “I thought it was nice. It wasn’t extravagant or showy. Just a simple celebration of Mike’s life with the people who really cared about him. You don’t always see that with celebrities.”

“It’s because it was a Jewish service,” Gabe said. “They’re always simplistic. No flowers or fancy casket. That’s typical in Judaism. They believe in letting the deceased return to the earth the way they came into it. It’s why the service is always held so soon after the death. No embalming or makeup or anything.”

“Is that why the casket’s closed too?” Jace asked, buckling his seat belt.

“It’s part of the reason. But Jews believe in honoring the deceased to the fullest extent possible. They believe that a closed casket allows the mourners to focus on the memories and life of the deceased. When you look at a dead body, it causes the living to think about their own emotions and reactions instead of giving all their attention to the person they’re there to honor.”

Ben had already turned toward Gabe in awe, but it was Jace who said what Ben was thinking. “How does a Catholic know so much about the Jewish religion?”

Jace’s question made Ben smile, but he felt a little guilty about his reaction after just having come from their friend’s funeral.

“Remember that girl I dated in college? Rachel?”

“The one you were obsessed with?” Ben asked.

“The one I was madly in love with, yes, that’s her.”

“You didn’t date her,” Jace said.

“What are you talking about? We definitely dated.”

“You asked her out so many times you eventually wore her down and she agreed to let you take her out for coffee.”

“Right. We went out a few times after that too.”

“Where?” Jace looked skeptical.

“It doesn’t matter where. We went out. Okay?” Gabe pulled out of the cemetery onto the street. “Anyway, Rachel was Jewish.”

“Don’t tell me you secretly converted for this girl who barely wanted anything to do with you,” Jace teased.

“No, I didn’t convert, jackass. Her father died a few weeks after we started talking, and I wanted to show my support for her, so I researched Jewish death traditions. I talked to a rabbi and everything.”

The guys remained silent. That seemed extreme even for Gabe.

“Turns out the family doesn’t like it if some random guy tries to sit Shiva with them, but Rachel did appreciate the gesture.”

Ben had to hold back a laugh. “I can’t believe you did all that to get a girl who barely acknowledged your existence.”

“Of course you can’t.”

Ben’s eyes narrowed at his friend. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, come on,” Gabe said. “Other than calling her once or twice, you won’t even make the slightest attempt to get back the girl you love—and who loves you too, by the way. So it’s no wonder you can’t relate to my methods.”

Ben turned around to look at Jace, hoping his friend would back him up, but Jace shrugged. “He’s got a point.”

Ben rolled his eyes. “That’s not the same.”

“Doesn’t have to be,” Gabe said. “It only matters that you’re both miserable without the other.”

“You don’t know she’s miserable.”

“I do,” Gabe said simply. “Camille told me.”

“Camille?”

“Yeah, we’ve been texting since we met that time at your place.”

“Is Ryan okay?” It was all Ben cared about.

“Yeah, I guess. Camille said Ryan’s back living with her and she got her old job back at Daisy’s, so I guess she’s got some money coming in.”

Ben hated to think of Ryan having to work at that shithole of a strip club, even if she wasn’t the one taking off her clothes. She deserved better than Daisy’s. And she deserved better than Ben. “That’s good, I guess.”

“Yeah, sounds awesome,” Gabe replied dryly.

“What am I supposed to do? It’s not like I want her to have to work there, but I don’t really have much of a say in her life anymore. Because while she may be sad, I doubt she’s sad because she wants me back. She’s probably sad because I was a complete dick and I ruined something good.” And what they had was good. It broke Ben’s heart to think how easily he’d lost everything.

“Well, that too,” Gabe said.

“There’s no ‘too.’ That’s the reason she’s upset.” At least he thought so. But it killed him to know that there might be some truth to what Gabe said. What if he did still have a chance to make things right with Ryan eventually? How long should he wait when eventually might never arrive? Mike’s passing was a reminder that no one is promised any amount of time. Time is a luxury, a gift that isn’t always given. And the ones who get it often waste it, assuming there will be more.

“Text Camille and ask her where Ryan is,” Ben said suddenly.

Gabe stole a glance at Ben in the seat next to him and smiled. “A ‘please’ would help.”