“No,” he mumbles out of the corner of his mouth, his focus on the front of the room. He moves me closer to the door in the corner, by the hall that leads to his office, but I can’t stop staring at him. He looks the exact same, except he’s grown his hair back out. I want to push it away from his temples, smooth it between my fingers. For a while, I’d been able to touch him whenever I wanted to, but I can’t anymore. I lost the opportunity.

“I’m sorry I hurt you,” I whisper hurriedly.

“Not now, Cass. We have a viewing going on,” he says with a gentle shove so that I exit the room.

“Please, Vince? It’ll just take a minute.” My voice rises at the end, and he holds a finger up to his lips, his hazel eyes meeting mine for the first time since I crashed into his funeral home for the second time. I glance around the room. No one’s paying attention to me, so I sidle up next to him, making sure to keep my voice down. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, soul-searching, and I came to apologize. I did use you. I’m sorry. I didn’t do it on purpose, but it’s no excuse. I took you for granted, and I feel awful about it. I didn’t?—”

“Shh.” He cuts me off with a severe hush and tugs me outside the door into the hall.

I try again, whispering, “I didn’t realize then what I was doing. I was falling in love with you.”

Vince’s body is always in motion, tapping fingers, head tilts, bouncing legs. His body is always buzzing with energy, not overt but more like an even, constant rain. It’s soothing. But now, he’s still next to me. The only signs of life are his blinking eyes.

“I’m working,” he says and glances at his watch then crosses his arms. He doesn’t tell me to leave, so I don’t. I stand next to him, impatiently waiting, and he occasionally tosses me an annoyed frown. I want to apologize again, but I’m afraid to make the situation worse.

I can do nothing but watch a slow, steady line of mourners speak to the people in the front row before approaching the casket. I’m a morbid voyeur. Even with my angst about Vince, it’s impossible to ignore the life and death in front of us.

Finally, when there is no longer a line, Vince turns to me and says, “Wait here.” I do as I’m told, and he walks back into the room, bending down to a person I cannot see. After a moment, he stands and opens the back doors as if to usher the guests out of the room. “On behalf of the Bryne family, thank you for coming today. The funeral service will be held tomorrow morning at St. Mary’s Episcopal Church at ten a.m.”

He makes his way to me back in the hall and spares no time or minced words. “You left me, Cass,” he says in a harsh, low voice. “You didn’t want to give me time. You didn’t want to talk about it. You didn’t want to do anything.” He aims his index finger at me and then himself. “You said I was nothing to you and left, just walked out. But now you expect me to fall at your feet? You want me to pretend you didn’t break my heart and disappear?”

“No!” At his raised eyebrows, I slap my hands to my mouth even though I can’t help that I already yelled. “No. I don’t expect you to do anything.”

He folds his arms and angles his body to block my view of the room behind him, although it appears the guests are filtering out. “Then why are you here?”

“To apologize. I know I have terrible timing, but you knew that about me already.” I smile, hoping he does too. He doesn’t. “I said horrible things to you. I don’t want to make any excuses, but I need you to know where I was coming from.”

He doesn’t stop me, so I continue. “I was really messed up. Even before Ray died, I was messed up. His death made me crash, but the train was already coming off the tracks. But when you showed up at my door, none of that mattered. When I was around you, I was happy, and I didn’t know how to handle it. I didn’t know how to be good for you when I couldn’t be good for myself.”

Vince curls his bottom lip into his mouth. It’s what he does when he thinks.

“I hurt you, and I did it on purpose. I said you didn’t mean anything to me, but I lied to you and to myself. You mean a lot to me. You mean everything.” Tears well up, and I let out a maniacal laugh. “I can’t stop crying,” I say, wiping at my eyes. “This was the second time I put on makeup today.”

I tip my head back to meet Vince’s gaze, and his mouth is angled down, his shoulders soft and curled toward me. He nudges my hand away from my face to replace it with his own. His palm smooths down my cheek, and I lean into its warmth.

“I love you, Vince. You’re sweet and patient and funny and kind. God, you’re so kind, and I’m sullen and bitter and sarcastic. I’m perpetually late and?—”

“And I’m always early.” He blesses me with my favorite uneven smile as he bows toward me, like we’re forming a crooked little heart of our own. “We can even each other out.”

“Yeah?”

He nods, and I hold on to his hand with both of mine, afraid if I let go, he’ll change his mind. But then he bends to kiss me, and everything I’ve been missing for months disappears. His lips ease my fears. His arm wrapping around me promises we’ll be okay.

I lift onto my toes, bringing myself as close as I can to him. If I could, I’d saw him open and climb into his chest, live inside his heart for the rest of my life. After all, it is my home.

“Oh!” I push away from him. “I almost forgot.” I retrieve the small plastic bag from my purse and hand it to him.

His brows furrow. “Chocolate-covered pomegranate seeds?”

“Remember I told you about Persephone and Hades?” I open them when he doesn’t and pull out one of the little chocolate balls. “She stayed in the Underworld because she ate the pomegranate seed.” Then I pop it into my mouth, grinning.

Vince releases a big belly laugh and throws his arms around me, lifting me up. I laugh too, my feet off the floor, and he kisses my neck and cheeks, repeating, “I love you.”

My wretched heart grows wings at those words, and I press my lips to his as my heart flies above me.

“Ahem.” A purposeful cough sounds, and I am smacked with reality. I barged into a funeral service to tell a man I love him. Vince’s body tenses as he releases me to the floor. His face is beet red, and he slowly spins around. I peek out from my place in the hallway, behind him.

A group of people are staring at us. They’re gathered at the door like they’ve been eavesdropping. But they haven’t. We’ve been loud.