Page 152 of PS: I Hate You

My mind plays out the rest of my life in that moment. Me living a long, safe life to one hundred years old.

Without a single day more of Dominic Perry.

I think I’d rather leave this world the day after tomorrow and spend a solid twenty-four hours with him.

All I wish is that I’d been living the past ten years with him as well.

“Why didn’t you two say anything? How did I miss it?” Since finishing the puzzle the first time, I’ve been racking my brain for memories of that last year. Josh was able to manage the pain well enough to keep traveling for a while—to Alaska apparently. He managed well enough that he didn’t let on how bad things were until close to the end. But the final few weeks, I was in the hospital with him as much as I could be.

“That was something Josh asked for. To keep us just for us.” Rosaline sighs. “I think he was worried what people would say about me when he was gone. Leaving his best friend for him. I told him Ididn’t care. But it worried him, and I didn’t want to give him more things to stress over.”

There’s a weighty presence at my back, and I glance over my shoulder to find Dom leaning against the doorway, a grimace of regret on his face. “My family would’ve understood. Theywillunderstand, if you decide to tell them.”

The Perrys. I think I get it now. Josh knew Rosaline would need people after the end, and her strict parents aren’t the most comforting bunch. No wonder she was at Adam and Carter’s graduation. They’re the ones she turned to when she lost the love of her life, though no one really knew.

Rosaline huffs a sad laugh. “I just might. A bit of honesty would have done us all some good.”

“Did you know about the letters he left us?” I ask. The puzzle was obviously a surprise.

Now her expression turns wistful. “Not exactly. Only that he was plotting something. I saw him writing a few, but when I asked, he gave me that mischievous smile of his and said he was figuring out how to fit two puzzle pieces together.”

I snort and blink away tears. At the end of his life, my brother was trying to mastermind my love story.

I wish he and Rosaline hadn’t had to wait so long for their own.

“Are you mad at Dom? For asking you to marry him?” The questions tumble out before I consider them.

Rosaline blinks at me, then she flicks her eyes over my shoulder, then back to me.

“Dom didn’t ask. I did.”

“What?” I yelp. “Wait. Wait wait wait. I wasthere. I heard Dom say, ‘We’ll get married.’ When you two were sitting on the porch swing.” I glance behind me and spy Dom rubbing a rough hand over his face.

“Yeah,” Rosaline speaks slowly. “In response to me asking him. Begging him, more like.”

“You”—I point an aggravated finger at him—“never clarified that. I thought the marriage was your idea.”

Dom crosses the room to crouch beside me. “It might as well have been. I didn’t turn her down. I prioritized what I thought I was supposed to do over what I should have done to make us both happy.”

My breath leaves me in a huff. “I’m just saying, I would’ve been slightly less pissed at you. I think. Maybe not. I’m kind of petty.”

Rosaline reaches across the puzzle to place her hand over mine.

“We were young fools. The two of us. I never should’ve asked him. And he never should have said yes. We should’ve chosen the people we loved, not the ones we felt safest with or responsible for. We both should’ve fought harder for the Sandersons.”

I squeeze her hand back. “I’m glad you were brave. That Josh had you in the end.”

And suddenly she’s around the table, or maybe I went to her. Either way, I find myself hugging tight to the only other woman who loved Josh as much as I did.

As Rosaline’s arms tighten around me, I breathe in the scent of lavender.

Chapter

Forty-Four

After we leave Rosaline’s, Dom drives me to his parents’ house. His parents are out of town on an anniversary trip, so we don’t go inside. Instead, we settle on the swinging bench on their back porch. Dom stretches out on his back until his feet hang off one edge.

After a questioning tug on my hand, I lay down beside him, throwing an arm over his torso and a leg over his hips.