And that didn’t make sense.

I was trying to talk to a slab of marble. It couldn’t respond and it couldn’t give me a judging look. It couldn’t even give me the permission I was looking for and had already been given by Mr. LaRue. But somehow, asking this stone meant more to me than asking anyone else.

“I can’t imagine what you would say to me or think of me if you were here. There are so many times when something happens, or Grey says something, and I can hear what your response would be. Typical Ben bullshit that we all miss. Always trying to reel me in, to stop getting your girl in trouble, to bash my drawings just so I wouldn’t feel like I was the only one who doubted them . . . so much. So much that I know both Grey and I hear clear as day. But this? I can’t begin to guess what you would say. Probably because if you were still here, none of this would be happening.

“Because if you were still here, I know that you’d be furious. I know that you’d do everything in your power to stop me from being with her, and I know that you wouldn’t give her up for anything in the world—because that’s exactly how I feel now that I have her. But when I try to think about it, all I see is you standing there staring at me. Saying nothing, with no emotion on your face whatsoever.”

I sat back and rested my elbows on my knees as I continued staring at the stone, memorizing everything about it as I waited for a response that would never come.

“I love her, man. You knew that, but knowing that you knew doesn’t make any of this any easier. I love her and I’m going to take care of her for the rest of my life. I’m going to marry Grey, Ben. I have a ring and I’m going to ask her to take my last name. And you wanna know the f**ked-up thing about all of this? It’s that I hate that you won’t be there when I marry her.” I let out a strangled laugh and shook my head. “I hate that my best friend can’t be there on what I know will be the best day of my life so far, and yet you were days away from that exact same day with the exact same girl. Like I said, it’s f**ked up. And sitting here telling a piece of stone all this somehow makes it that much worse. If you were here you’d laugh and tell me I’m insane, and God I feel like it . . .” I mumbled the last sentence to myself.

“I wish you could see her. See how much better she’s doing. There were so many times I thought she’d never get past what happened, there were so many times I was terrified that she was destroying herself—just waiting until she could be with you again. Even now, regardless of how much better she is, there are days when it looks like she’s on the edge of going to a place worse than where she ever was. But she’s strong, and I have no doubt she’ll continue to pull herself out of those places, and keep moving. And I’ll always be there with her to help her.

“I feel like I need to ask your permission to marry Grey, that’s why I came here; but I can’t ask a stone. I can’t ask something that has nothing of you other than your name and dates on it. So this is me letting you know what we’re about to do. This is me saying I’m sorry that you can’t have this chance with Grey, and I’m sorry for taking her. This is me telling you that she still loves you, and we all miss you. And this is me promising you I will take care of her and cherish her forever.” Standing up, I took two steps away from the headstone and shoved my hands into my pockets. “You always have been and always will be my best man, Ben. See you.”

Grey

September 20, 2014

THE BED SHIFTED, I felt something heavy settle down on my hips, and my eyes cracked open to find Jagger sitting on me with an unreadable expression on his face. My lips pulled into a lazy smile, and my eyes blinked slowly a few times before I could finally focus on him.

“Interesting way to wake me up considering we’re both fully clothed.”

One side of his mouth curved up, but he didn’t say anything. Leaning forward, he placed a soft kiss on my cheek before doing the same to my lips. I reached up to run my hand over his head, hoping to prolong the kiss, but he pulled back, and my hand slipped to his face.

“You have a little something there,” I teased, and started to brush at the black smudge on his cheek. Then I noticed my left arm.

In my groggy state, it took me a few seconds to realize that, one, it wasn’t a bug; two, it was charcoal; and three, it was the words “WILL YOU . . .”

I mouthed the words a couple times and my heart began racing. My eyes flickered over to Jagger. His face was still unreadable, but his green eyes were full of a mostly hidden excitement. With his eyes locked on mine, he lifted my right arm, and I slowly slid my gaze to it.

And my heart sank.

MAKE BREAKFAST? was there in charcoal on my right forearm.

“Seriously?” I whined, and pushed at his stomach. “You drew on me so you could ask me to make breakfast? You could’ve just woken me up and asked, or waited for me to wake up on my own.”

“So, is that a yes?” he asked earnestly, and I glared at him.

“Fine.”

“That’s not a yes.”

“Yes, Jagger, I will make us breakfast because you are incapable of even pouring a bowl of cereal for yourself.” I tried to stay mad, but that was impossible with Jagger. “You’re such a nerd. I’m getting you cooking lessons for your birthday.”

“It won’t help.”

“One can dream.” Grabbing the back of his neck, I pulled him down to kiss him then pushed him away. “Now get off me so I can make something.”