Page 68 of When Ben Loved Jace (He Loved Him #2)

Life goes on. Even when you don’t want it to.

I’m numb, three weeks later, when sitting on the back porch of Jace’s childhood home.

I understand now that the plans he made—the instructions given to Adrien—were about so much more than his estate or how his body should be laid to rest. That’s why we came to see his mother and father, who are inconsolable.

All they do is cry. I can’t imagine how much it must hurt to lose a child, but ever since arriving here, I can picture it with perfect clarity.

I don’t think that’s an accident on Jace’s part, because it forced me to change my plans.

I wanted to kill myself. To join him in oblivion. But now I know. I’ve seen what it would do to my parents, and that means I can’t. I have to keep living, no matter how bad it hurts.

A cat rubs up against my leg, the fur ginger instead of gray, but I think of Samson anyway. Adrien is taking care of him while I’m out of town, but he can’t give Samson the same level of care. I know what Jace would want. He spelled it out, in his own handwriting.

You’re his daddy now too. Love him for me. Please.

I almost resent Jace for coming up with so many reasons to languish here without him, but I would have done the same.

Had I expected to die and wanted to make sure he didn’t take foolish action.

Jace knew what he was doing. He experienced this kind of loss.

And yet, presumably, he had his own reasons for not giving in to despair.

My attention moves to Greg, who is sitting hunched over, elbows on his knees, his usual exuberance absent. He only comes to life when one of his kids needs him. I guess we all have our anchors.

I feel a hand on my shoulder and look up. Michelle’s eyes are bloodshot from crying. “Are you ready?” she asks.

I nod and lift the box that has been sitting on my lap.

All that remains of him is ash. Which is a little too relatable.

As a trio, we silently work our way down the slope of the valley, heading toward the lake.

Greg stays close to his wife, her belly swollen with new life.

If there is any poetic symbolism there, I’m not feeling it.

Jace will never meet his future nephew. That seems terribly unjust. A cruel twist of fate.

Although he seemed to take the possibility in stride.

Please don’t name the baby after me. I don’t want him to feel like he has any sort of legacy to live up to.

Give him his own name, so he can forge his own destiny.

Although, if you’re looking for ideas, I always thought Sylvester had a nice ring to it.

Especially for a cat. Hey, I never claimed to be original!

I swallow against tears. I miss his stupid sense of humor.

“Do you think he knew?” Michelle asks when we reach the lake and pause there.

I consider her. “Because of the letters he left with Adrien?”

She shakes her head. “I mean on the day that he passed away. Did he know it was going to happen?”

When he asked me to get into bed with him.

I’ve wondered, of course. It’s all too easy to imagine a universe where I recognized the telltale signs, called an ambulance, and saved my husband’s life.

If he even wanted that, which I doubt. So yeah, Jace might have realized that another aneurysm had ruptured and held his tongue.

He never would’ve put me in the position to choose between his wishes and my own.

Jace was too good a man. The only thing I can be sure of, is that having one final opportunity to bask in the love we shared is how I would like to die. Especially now.

“I don’t know.” My voice is ragged. “But if it had to happen, I’m glad we were together.”

“Yeah, man,” Greg says, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and pulling me close.

“Who the hell wants to croak in a hospital? Give me that kind of ending instead.” He reaches for his wife, and we end up in a sort of huddle, each of us racked by sobs.

We need to cry after having to be strong in front of Jace’s parents and the kids.

“Okay,” Greg says with a heavy sigh. “Let’s do this. Follow me.”

I don’t think I could have found my way back to the clearing without him.

Even when Greg stops and turns to face me, I can’t tell if it’s the right place until I spot the broken remains of a lean-to, of which there is little left.

Time claims us all. Not just our bones, but the memories we made as well.

For now, he won’t be forgotten. Neither of them will .

“Come on, Greg,” Michelle says, taking her husband by the arm. “This is a private moment.”

“Are you sure?” he asks, puppy-dog eyes remaining locked on me.

I nod, wanting to tell him that this is what I need, but the lump in my throat makes it impossible to speak. I’m glad she understands.

“We won’t be far,” she promises before leading her husband away.

I stand in the clearing while clutching a box of ashes to my chest, the branches swaying above my head, and hope to hear his voice in the breeze, see his ghost moving among the trees. Jace doesn’t manifest. There’s no need. He already haunts me.

“I don’t want to say goodbye to you,” I croak.

“So I won’t. I’m still going to talk to you every day.

When I eat alone, I’ll imagine you sitting at the table with me.

The book you were reading will be waiting for you next to the couch.

I’ll keep clinging to your pillow every night when I sleep.

I won’t give you up, Jace. Nobody can make me.

Ever.” I open the box. “But I will do what you asked and set you free.”

I walk backward through the clearing while tilting the box. The wind catches his ashes, sending them in a twisting spiral through the air before they become part of the place where he first learned to love.

When I lost Victor, I never thought I’d be happy again. That seemed impossible. Then I met you.

“I know what you want,” I say aloud, answering the letter he left behind.

“I can’t make any promises. But I want you to know that even if there’s nothing left in my heart except for this pain, I don’t have any regrets.

I only wish we could have had more time.

” I fall to my knees, tears streaming down my cheek. “I love you, Jace. I always will.”

The wind ruffles my clothes as I remember the warmth of his touch, the kindness in his eyes, the comfort of his presence, and the way he filled my world with light, with laughter, with love.