“Does it matter?”

“It fucking mattered to me or it wouldn’t have happened. The guy I fought with said we wasted our time in Iraq.”

Bob blew out a deep breath, his shoulders sagging under the weight of his own grief. “I’m sorry. I would’ve hit him, too.”

“Despite what you think, I’m not out there looking for trouble.”

“And yet it keeps finding you anyway. How could you turn down Ella’s gift of the trip to the wedding? How could you do that to her, son? That girl loves you. Anyone can see that. Hell, even you have to see that.”

His heart ached so badly. It had only ever hurt that badly once before. Gavin rubbed his hand over his chest, wishing that were all it took to ease the ache. “I see it,” he said.

“Then why? Why would you do this to her?”

“I told her I couldn’t go to the wedding, and she did this anyway. I don’t know what she was hoping to accomplish.”

“She was hoping to blast your head out of your ass and get you back into the land of the living where you belong! Dylan is one of your best friends! He has been since you were in elementary school. He’s getting married. He wants you there. That’s where you ought to be. If I can see that and your mother can see it and Ella can see it, why in the name of God can’t you see it?”

“He’s not my friend. He was Caleb’s friend.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Gavin. Is that what this is about?”

Gavin had never, in all his life, heard Bob Guthrie drop the F word. That was enough to shock him so profoundly he could hardly recall the question his father had asked him. But then he remembered. “No, it’s not just that.”

“Those guys love you as much as they loved Caleb. Everyone can see that but you. Why is that?”

“He was the heart and soul. I was just along for the ride. I was always along for his ride.”

“That is so not true. You have no idea how important you were to him if you can say something so stupid. Without Gavin, there’s no Caleb. You gave him his swagger and made him into the badass he became by challenging him on every bit of bullshit that came out of his mouth from the second you could first talk. Your mother and I used to call you the ballast. You kept the ship from rolling over under the weight of his personality and his ego. You were the yin to his yang.”

Gavin had never heard these things before, and each revelation left him reeling.

“Nothing in my life has ever made me prouder than the deep friendship you two shared. You were more like twins than any twins I ever met. My very first thought upon hearing he’d been killed wasn’t for me or your mother or Hannah. It was for you. I simply couldn’t imagine one of you without the other.”

“Dad . . .” Gavin needed this to stop before he completely lost his shit. This was the last thing he could bear to face tonight after he’d already royally fucked things up with Ella.

“I’ve watched you wither away over these last few years, becoming a man who bears no resemblance whatsoever to who he was before that day. I’ve watched you bury yourself in your work to the exclusion of your friends and even your family at times. I’ve stood by and let you do your thing because who am I to say how you’re supposed to grieve your only sibling and closest friend? But I will not stand idly by and watch you sabotage your relationship with that lovely woman because you can’t get out of your own goddamned way. I won’t let you do it.”

“Too late,” Gavin said glumly. “I’ve already done it.”

“It’s never too late.”

“This time it might be.”

“You need to go over there and fix this, Gavin. If you think you’ve suffered over Caleb, you haven’t seen suffering until you lose the woman you love forever. How’s it going to feel to know she’s out there somewhere, married to someone else, having his babies and living her life with him while you’re still here mired in your own shit, wishing for something that’s never going to happen?”

The picture his father painted of Ella happily married to someone else scared the living hell out of him. It had been his greatest fear in all the months before they got together—that she would finally meet someone she liked better than him. “You think that’s what I’m doing? Sitting here wishing Caleb would come strolling in the door like he owns the place just like he used to?”

“Something like that.”

“Well, I’m not. I know he’s dead. I know he’s not coming back. I know Homer’s dead and Hannah’s remarried and you and Mom are up to your eyeballs in the inn and everything is going along swimmingly for everyone. I get it.”

“So you’re pissed off that everyone has moved on except for you? You honestly think your mom or me or Hannah will ever truly move on and get over what happened to him? If that’s what you think, you ought to spend a few nights at home so you can see how little sleep I get since my son died because he was stupid enough to follow in my footsteps.”

“Dad . . . That’s not true. He was doing exactly what he wanted to do.”

“Yes, he was, and I know that. I know it all the way down to my bone marrow. But guess what? It still hurts like a son of a bitch anyway. I miss him every damned day. I wake up every morning wondering how I’m supposed to get through another day without him out there somewhere, living his life. Sometimes I like to imagine what he’d be doing now. I always picture him with a bunch of kids trailing behind him, caught up in whatever magic he’d be creating that day.”

When Gavin raised his hand to his face, he realized it was wet with tears.

“And don’t think I can’t remember what an ornery son of a gun he could be, too. Most contrary person I ever knew. Half the time I wanted to knock his block off for being so mouthy and opinionated. The rest of the time I wanted to bow down in awe to him and you, the two amazing human beings your mother and I somehow managed to raise. The two of you together were the most perfect thing in my life, son. Watching you try to carry on without him has been the toughest part of this for me—and your mom.”

Gavin wiped his face, mortified to have broken down in front of his father but riveted by the things he’d said.

“Seeing you with Ella, seeing you happy again, your eyes sparkling with delight the way they used to when he was alive . . . I said to your mother after dinner the night you brought her over the first time that maybe here was someone who could fill at least part of the void, if not all of it.”

She had filled the void, and he was only just now realizing that.

“You can’t let her get away, Gavin,” Bob said, his tone considerably softer now. “You can’t. I honestly fear that if you do, you’ll never get over it.”

His father’s words landed like an arrow full of panic in the vicinity of his battered heart.

“I don’t want to go to that wedding.”

“Why not? And do not say because Dylan’s not your friend.”

“He is my friend.”

“Then why, Gavin? Why, why, why? I talked to Clinton. He was thrilled to be in on the surprise and promised he’d do everything he could to keep things running smoothly here while you’re gone. You have no good reason not to go.”

“I have a very good reason not to go.”

“But you’re not going to tell me what it is?”

“No.” If he told anyone, he would tell Ella. For some strange reason, he thought she might be the only one who would actually understand.

“That lovely young woman went to a lot of trouble and expense to do something nice for you. If you let that go to waste, if you walk away from her, you’re a fool.”

“I guess I’m a fool then.”

“I’m disappointed, Gavin, and I don’t toss that word around lightly.”

“I’m sorry to have disappointed you.”

“Just remember one thing . . . Nothing can’t be fixed. Nothing.”

Gavin didn’t argue with his father, who squeezed his shoulder on the way past him. Some things couldn’t be fixed, no matter how badly you might want to.