The sleet drips down my ears as I stare at the gaping hole before me. My dad comes over with an umbrella and stands beside me, but I brush him away. It’s too late. I’m already cold and wet—heartsick over regaining a friend only to lose him again. “I’m glad that Ivy brought you two boys together in the end,” my dad says, keeping his eyes trained straight ahead. We’re not good at sharing our emotions with each other. I either go off the deep end or shut myself off, and he takes everything in stride like nothing’s capable of ruffling him. It’s a frustrating mix, considering we’re both too stubborn to make the first move. “So you forgive me now?” I ask, my voice sounding brittle and worn out as droplets of water start to bead on the cedar casket. “There was nothing to forgive, son,” he responds, shifting toward me. “I just didn’t want another girl coming between the two of you again.”
