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“I don’t want you to be okay.”

I narrow my gaze at her.

“No. I mean, I want you to be happy.”

“Who says I’m unhappy?”

“I’m not good at this,” Brooklyn tells me.

“I don’t know whatthisis,” I reply.

“I’ve never missed someone the way I miss you.”

Not what I expected her to say. I stare at her.

“Please, say something.”

For someone who rambles, I’m speechless. She misses me? Brooklyn misses me?

“Carter, please say something. Anything.”

“I miss you too.” I miss her much more than I want to admit.

“I don’t like the way it feels,” Brooklyn says. “Almost as much as I hate seeing hurt in your eyes.”

“Brooklyn.”

“No. Just listen to me for a minute. I saw it before Christmas. I saw the look in your eyes when you overheard me on the phone with Drew. I saw it when we ran into you at Jack’s party.”

Shit. “Brooklyn, we’re friends. You have every right to spend time with anyone you want.”

“I know.” Brooklyn looks up toward the ceiling. “But why did I?”

What am I supposed to say? “Maybe because you like her.”

“I do. I like Drew,” Brooklyn says. “But she’s not you, Carter.”

It’s a good thing I’m sitting because this conversation has the ability to knock me off my feet. Literally. I’d like to end this train of thought in its tracks. Apparently, Brooklyn can sense that.

“Why don’t you want to talk about this?” she asks.

Because it hurts. It hurts to love you. I don’t want to love you anymore. I don’t want to miss you. I don’t want to hope. I don’t want to imagine. I don’t want to fall down that hole again. It’s too deep. It’s too dark, and it’s too, “lonely.” The world escapes my lips without my permission.

“What?” she asks.

My eyes meet hers. “There is only one thing worse than losing someone you love,” I tell her.

“What could be worse?”

“Being alone in love. Being lonely in love,” I explain. “It’s the worst pain imaginable.” It is. “It’s a hole that can’t be filled by memories. It’s a cavern carved by hope that leads to hopelessness. It’s hell. If I had to write a vision of hell, that would be it.”

“Oh, Carter.”

“It’s the truth, Brooklyn.”

“And you think you’re destined to fall down the hole.”

“Let’s just say I’ve spent my share of time climbing out of it.”