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feel like an asshole. I’m better. This is bullshit. I’m an adult. I have a job and an apartment and a wedding to plan and the most amazing fiancée ever, and I’m acting like a child in a bathroom. What is wrong with me? Why can’t I stop thinking about it? Why doesn’t it ever go away?
    Less than ten minutes after I send the text, I hear a knock on the door. “I’ll be right out,” I yell. Figures. I can’t even be a wreck in peace before some asshole shows up and interferes.
    “Jack?” Lily’s voice is so sad through the door. I want to open it. I should open it, but I’m angry and I’m embarrassed that I’m angry. I swore this wouldn’t happen again. I promised her, and I’m just fucking things up. Yet again. Man, I really am a piece of shit.
    “Can I come in?” she asks and her knocking gets more insistent. I stand up and fling the door open.
    “I’m good. Let’s go pick out some music,” I say, pushing past her.
    She grabs my arm as soon as we’re outside. The rain spills around her, plastering her hair to her face, and she shivers a little. I take off my hoodie, but it’s still a little wet and it doesn’t help much. Still, it’s a gesture, and she thanks me and smiles anyway. I bring her against the restaurant window, under the awning, and position her so she’s fully covered while I stand under the stupid stream of water that just runs from the awning’s edge.
    “He shouldn’t have asked,” she says. “Or I should have said something. It’s my fault. I didn’t even remember to call them and I forgot to mention it when we spoke. I should have mentioned it,” she repeats.
    “Fuck it. It’s not your fault. I don’t have the right to act like this.”
    “That’s bullshit and we both know it. You have every right to be upset. It’s never going to be okay, and it’s never going to be different, Jack. Your mom deserves your anger about what happened. I just wish I had planned for it better.”
    “Princess,” I say, “stop it. You didn’t kill her. You didn’t fuck things up by leaving me alone so you could go get yourself fucked up, did you? I’m not mad at you. I’m not even mad at the DJ. I’m mad at myself, because I need to learn how to handle this shit.”
    “What can I do?” she asks.
    “Nothing. Let’s just go pick out the rest of the songs and go home. We can talk about it in the car. I promise I won’t run away again.”
    “I already finished and I gave him my email address. We don’t have to go back. We can stand here all day. Please, just talk about it, Jack. You need to talk. You need to open up. You can’t hide from it forever.”
    I laugh bitterly. “You’re the first person who has ever wanted to listen, Lily. Except some asshole I had to pay to listen. I don’t know how to talk anymore. Everyone just tells me to move on, to get over it, to stop obsessing over it. I lost all the words I used to have.”
    “Alana and Dave listen,” she argues.
    “They do, but... nothing changes. All the talk in the world won’t make it make sense, will it? There is nothing I can do to make it better. It’s on me. It’s my fault that I can’t just pick myself up and keep going. I acted like an asshole. Again. All I ever do is act like an asshole.”
    She pushes me back so that we’re both standing in the rain on the edge of the sidewalk and she kisses me, her hands clutching at my hair and drawing me down to her. She speaks against my mouth.
    “Stop. I love you, Jack. I love everything about you. There is nothing I would change. You don’t have to pick yourself up. I’m here to help you keep going. I know we’ve been through this, but listen to me. You’re not alone. You will never be alone again. If you want to talk, I will listen. If you want to be distracted, I’ll entertain you. If you want to punch a hole in something, I’ll buy the damn plaster. But I’m here. I am never going anywhere without you.”

Lily
    I suppose there are more romantic