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I’m not.

Not physically.

But my chest carries the same weight it has for years, the familiar ache settling deeper with every passing second.

James pulls up in front of the tall black gates and steps out to open my door. Before Selene can ask another question, I get out and move around the car to open hers.

She steps out hesitantly, fear lingering in her expression, but she doesn’t say a word.

Taking her hand, I lead her toward a place I know by heart.

With every step, I feel him more strongly.

And that both comforts me and tears me apart.

First path on the right.

Another fifteen steps.

And…

Selene stops abruptly beside me when she realizes I’m no longer moving. I take her other hand and angle my body slightly to the left.

“Hey, man,” I say quietly. “I want you to meet the love of my life.”

Beside me, Selene doesn’t even dare to breathe. Her hands have gone icy cold in mine, and the only sound surrounding us is the wind whispering through the cemetery, stirring the silence between the graves.

“Babe.” I turn back to her, a small smile tugging at one corner of my mouth. “Meet my best friend, Denis Black.”

Her eyes widen.

Then she slowly turns her head toward the place where my friend has rested for so long that the thought alone makes my chest tighten.

“Babe, what…”

“Denis is here because of me,” I say firmly.

Her gaze snaps back to mine. Her mouth parts, shock written across every inch of her face.

A humorless laugh slips from me as I release her hands and lower myself onto my knees in front of his headstone, ignoring the protest of my injured leg.

“On June 26th, 2016, I practically dragged him out of bed—where he was sitting, playing some absolutely ridiculous game on that ancient laptop of his that barely worked…”

I pause and glance up at the sky, a soft laugh escaping this time because if he were here, he’d smack the back of my head and tell me to watch how I talk about Tetris since it’s a strategy game.

“Sorry, man. But it was boring as hell.”

Selene gently places a hand on my shoulder as she sits down beside me.

“And I forced him to come to yet another illegal race that was happening that weekend.”

She stiffens beside me, her breath catching in her throat.

But she doesn’t look at me.

She looks straight ahead, at the smiling face watching us from his headstone.

“People were always saying we only won because we raced together,” I continue quietly, my heart pounding harder with every memory I drag back to the surface, “so he decided he wanted to race alone. And even though I kept insisting I wanted to go with him, he locked the doors before I could get in. Then he cracked the window and told me this was something he had to do by himself.”