His heart thuds in his chest, then aches like it’s breaking, even while he tries to find a smile. “You know, I bet she would.”

He can just about picture it, the three of them — maybe, even, the four of them, but he touches that thought lightly — in Brooklyn. Playing games at Coney Island, sitting up on the rooftops to see the stars.

He hates the misery in his best friend’s voice, the way his breath is so ragged and sore. It’s hard to think them having had this much is a good thing, when all their happiness is turning to pain.