He laughed until tears streaked down his face, until the sound echoed across the empty field. His laugh always made other people smile just hearing it.
Eventually, we sat on the tailgate, legs dangling, the night settling around us. I nursed the beer slowly while he finished his second like it was nothing.
“You hate college yet?” he asked.
“No,” I said. “I just… feel like I’m pretending most of the time.”
He nodded like that made perfect sense.
“That’s normal,” he said. “Everyone’s pretending. Some people are just better at it.”
He slung an arm around my shoulders then, pulling me in close. He loved without restrain, solid and grounding.
“You’re gonna be fine, little brother,” he said. “You always get in your own head. Life’s easier than you think.”
I remember looking out over the empty field, the bleachers rising like quiet witnesses, and believing him completely.
Because he sounded so sure.
Because he was my big brother, my best friend.
He talked about the future like it was something friendly waiting up ahead. About settling down. About kids. About fixing up thehouse someday, even though he complained about it constantly. About how everything eventually worked itself out.
I didn’t say much, especially, when he got like that. I just listened, absorbing his certainty, letting it settle the stress in me.
When it got cold, we sat there anyway. When the beer ran out, we still didn’t leave. We talked about nothing. About everything. About a world that felt wide and forgiving.
At some point, he squeezed my shoulder and said, “Don’t disappear on us, okay?”
“I won’t,” I promised.
Standing here now, years later, that promise felt heavy.
Because I had disappeared.
Because life hadn’t been easier than he thought.
I still wished I could believe him. I still wished his voice could cut through the noise in my head the way it used to. I still wished I could sit beside him in the dark and let his certainty stand in for my own.
But the field was empty now. The truck was gone. And the person who had made me believe I’d be fine.
Was buried in the ground.
And no amount of remembering could bring him back.
Chapter 36
Ethan
My hands slipped into my pockets, my breathing tight. I blinked against the sting in my eyes.
“You were my person,” I whispered. “I don’t think I ever said that.”
I moved to Jenny’s stone next.
“Hey, Jen,” I murmured. “I’m trying with Lily. I hope you’d be okay with how we’re doing things. She misses you both. She doesn’t say it much, but… she does.”
The wind stirred the grass around my shoes.
