Page 90 of What's Left of Us

“You always had a taste for the expensive shit,” I tell my late friend, stopping in front of the stone and wiping my runny nose. “I would have assumed you were a granite kind of guy if I didn’t know you better. Pretty sure your ritzy ass even requested a cherry coffin, which is a far cry from what you used to tell me to do with you when we were in the academy.”

Before Conklin met Marissa, he used to say he wanted to be cremated to get a head start to where he was going. It was funnybecause he was one of the nicest guys I know. There was no way he was going to hell, but it was his running joke that always got a few laughs. I guess marrying the love of his life made him think differently. He even went to church every Sunday with her and her family. Man was a sucker for that woman.

I smile to myself, but it wavers when my eyes scan over the dates listed on the piece of carved marble. “I saw Marissa and Coop the other day. I got him the new Grand Theft Auto game, much to your wife’s dismay. They’re doing good. As good as they can be, anyway.”

Kicking at the ground, I blow out a harsh breath and shake my head. “Man, this is bullshit. You shouldn’t be…there. Gone. You should be here, with us, kicking your son’s ass at video games and telling me what a fucking moron I am for sleeping with Georgia. You’d give it to me straight. Tough love. You’ve always been the best at that.”

Rubbing the back of my neck, I look up to the sky and close my eyes. Taking a deep breath, I count to three to try to calm myself down. Fists clenching and unclenching, I relax my arms and stand to my full height.

“It was all for nothing,” I whisper, unable to stop replaying the image of Luca Carbone’s hand on Georgia’s back. “Aftereverything…” I choke on my words, swallowing them as the anger boils my blood. “I did everything I could to protect her from him, and she still went back. Youdiedfornothing.”

The truth cuts deep—so deep I’m not sure anything can repair it. Not stitches or glue or faith. No amount of time will undo what’s already been done.

And seeing Georgia withhimagain cemented the hatred that’s been brewing inside of me for a long-ass time.

Because I loved her once. I loved having someone to come home to. Somebody to vent to. To take care of. I loved eachmilestone we shared that felt like the biggest victory to us, even if it was minuscule to others.

Georgia Del Rossi had once beenmine.

A woman I was willing to sacrifice it all for.

I almost did.

Over.

And over.

And over.

And Conklin…

Hedidsacrifice himself for that love.

A love that I’m not sure ever existed outside of my head.

What the fuck was it all for?

“I’m sorry,” I tell my friend in a broken whisper, sucking in a breath to fill my stinging lungs. “I’m sorry I didn’t make it worth it.”

Looking down at the ground, I clench my eyes closed and fight off the burning sensation behind my eyes.

I will not cry.

Not today.

Taking another deep breath, I open my eyes and rest my hand on the top of his stone. “I’ll see you later, buddy.”

When I pull back, I stare at the freshly polished coin resting where my palm was. He used to collect them wherever we would go. It used to piss me off. What did a guy who made six figures need with a few meaningless pennies?

He flicked one over to me once and told me that finding coins on specific dates meant loved ones were reaching out from the afterlife. That day, he picked up a penny from the side of the road and said it was the day his grandfather had passed. Another time, he picked up a quarter on the day of his aunt’s death.

I stare at the penny that caught my eye earlier on my walk to grab lunch. I’m not sure why it stood out to me on the side of thestreet covered in dirt, slush, and grime. When I picked it up, it was spotless. Like it hadn’t seen the dirty ground at all.

That’s when I realized it was the anniversary of Conklin’s death. Fifteen agonizing months.

Swallowing the emotion rising up my throat, I check the time on my watch. “I have to go,” I murmur, looking at the penny, then at his name. “If I miss another therapy session, I don’t think the good doc will sign off on my paperwork.”

My lips twitch. Would Conklin laugh at me being in therapy? Or would he tell me he thought it was a good idea? When he and Marissa were having trouble after Cooper was born, they went to couples counseling. I’d been surprised when he said it helped. I’d even considered trying it with Georgia. Anything to make it work.

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