I don’t belong here without Travis. This is his home, not mine. And now I’m surrounded by strangers who only care about what’s going to happen to the assets: the property, the house. If it were up to them, it’d get divided up and parceled out to the brothers who keep swearing they’ll miss Travis’ mom. I’ve never met any of them before, and I’ve lived next door my whole life.

I certainly haven’t seen any of them in the past six months since Mrs. Bloom’s been sick. A few phone calls, maybe. But no visitors. No one wanted to see her in her condition.

Hearing the front door open, I look over my shoulder where I’m washing dishes in the kitchen and spot Travis and Alec come in. Travis looks all alone, even with everyone around. The talking and chatter of these long-lost relatives doesn’t match the day. Seeing Travis suddenly makes me feel sick. For him, for his mom who we watched wither away.

My heart sinks when I see Travis’ face. He’s avoiding eye contact with me, and I don’t know why. Instead, he’s shaking hands with his mom’s siblings, making small talk and standing out in the crowd like some kind of deal maker. It doesn’t seem like him.

He’s doing what he’s supposed to. I wish I could be there for him, but he’s giving me nothing. He weaves his way through the living room and dining room, filled with his mother’s old things: a dining set inherited through two generations of Blooms, a china set, a Tiffany lamp.

His face is painted with grief, even though I know he’s trying to hide it. But inside, it’s much worse than that. Inside, I know he feels more than grief.

I don’t know what he’s going to do with the house. But all of these relatives are gunning for it. I know it. And I can see the mistrust in his eyes.

I want him to give me something. Anything.

He isn’t the guy I used to know.

All of the hours he’s put in at the shop have changed his body.

His mom would be proud to see her son like this, though. It almost seems like he’s grown up overnight.

But I just want him to look at me. I need him to look at me. I need to see the distance in his eyes, if even for a moment. Even if he isn’t really here, I need to see him to anchor me. Because right now, I feel like I’m adrift at sea. I need him to grab me and settle me. And I want to do the same for him.

I turn back to the sink and wipe my hands on a towel beside it. We’ve known this day was coming, but I don’t know if that’s lessened his pain or magnified it, blown it up so he can see and feel every little detail of the heartache I know he must be feeling right now.

“Baby, come here.” I feel Travis’ arms wrap around my waist and he whispers into my ear. “Everything okay?”

I close my eyes and pretend everything is okay. And with me in his arms, wrapped up tight, it’s almost true. His lips come down on the top of my head and he gives me a sweet peck.

“Yeah,” I struggle, pushing away a lump in my throat. “It will be. It has to be.”

I need to be strong for him.

He presses his body to mine, us alone with the strong smell of day-old roses filling the room among all the people whose names I don’t know and who Travis has only just met. His family, he said to me a month ago. He’d said it with a forced smile, because he didn’t mean it. These people don’t know what family means.

“I’m gonna get everyone to leave. You don’t need to be cleaning up the place.” I know he’s saying it because it’s not my house. That it’s his responsibility.

He always hated accepting help from people. I’m just happy he’s allowed Alec to be there for him, at least a little.

“How are you going to make them leave?” I ask, turning my head to look up at him, trying to smile a little.

Travis looks down at me, and his blue eyes flash with a sign of life, something I haven’t seen in so long. Since before his mom got sick. But the brightness in him is quickly extinguished, and I don’t know why. I don’t know what made him light up in the first place, but I felt it.

“Maybe I can tell them whoever sticks around the longest gets to help me clean out the basement.” He forces a little gruff laugh and keeps his hand around my waist as he grabs a beer from the fridge next to the sink.

“You think that’ll work?” I ask, turning and nuzzling up against him.

“Probably not. They probably think there’s something of value down there, the way they’re all sniffing around. Or maybe it’s just the house itself.” He pops the metal cap off the bottle and takes a sip thoughtfully, looking past the kitchen island and out into the living room. “Fucking vultures.”

I exhale shakily and turn my attention back to the sink. I need something to busy my hands. I can’t do anything to take my mind off what’s happening, so I need to do something physical. Maybe next I’ll take a jog around the neighborhood. Or maybe I’ll just go to bed.

“Mind if I crash here tonight?” I ask. My parents are out of town at some police benefit in the city, and they’re staying in a hotel down there tonight. They told me to send my condolences to Travis and his family. I guess they assumed this morning when they saw the cars starting to file into the driveway that those were his real family. They didn’t know any better.

“Go upstairs,” he says, reaching past me to turn off the sink. It sputters a little and the flow stops, and he turns me around by the hips. “Get into bed. Turn the lights off. Wait for me to come to you.”

His words send a chill into my spine and I nod in agreement, but my head is still spinning from the day.

I make my way through groups of people, in-laws and cousins. I don’t know these people. I give Alec a quick hug, but he can’t say anything to me. All he does is squeeze me in a tight embrace and nod before heading out the door as I go upstairs.

We knew this day would come, but no matter how many times I went over it in my mind, I couldn’t have prepared myself for this. At least we got to say goodbye, and his mom knew he was loved. I just pray my parents will be around for me to say goodbye to them, too.

Travis never got to say goodbye to his dad, but maybe he’ll get to see him again. Though I don’t know if he’d want to, and I don’t know what he’d say to him if he got that chance. Maybe all he’d say is goodbye. Make up for what he couldn’t say to him before, because there was no way to know he’d do what he did.