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Dan continues. "I know. I can tell she means a lot to you. And I can tell you're a good man, even with the tattoos."

I have to laugh.

"But I've known a lot of men your age with ambition and they don't always realize what they're asking of the people they love. We both know Violet won't listen to my feelings about your relationship with her. But I want you to promise me you'll take care of her."

"I will."

Violet and Mary are back before we have time to discuss matters further. Violet is holding a blue Trader Joe's tote bag. She still looks like she's about to faint.

She nods goodbye to her parents and whispers in my ear, "I think I'm finally ready to do this."

Violet's free hand stays glued to mine. She's wearing her nervous expression all over her face, but she still manages to walk with a steady gait.

We stop at Pacific Coast Highway to wait for the light. Violet squeezes my hand. She looks out at the horizon then her eyes meet mine.

The light changes. I lead the way across the still empty highway, over the concrete, onto the pier. It gets windier and colder the closer we get towards the edge. For once, Violet has her coat. She breaks free of my hand to pull it tighter.

I slide my hand around her waist and pull her closer. She's still shaking. She's still walking with a steady, strong gait.

Her footsteps slow as we pass the chain diner at the end of the pier. There are two fishermen on the left, so I lead us to the right. We're fighting the wind, but we'll make it work.

She kneels to set the tote bag on the deck. Her eyes meet mine. "Do you want to say a few words?"

"You should."

"I will. But maybe you should go first. If you have anything to say."

Asher was my friend too. It hurt me too. Not the way it hurt her, not even close, but it did sting.

"Okay." I take the urn from the tote bag and hold it to my chest. It feels like the right thing to do here. "Asher, I'll never forget the first time I saw you on the keys in our practice room. You fucking killed it. And I'll never forget the look of horror on your face when I asked if Violet was single." I take a deep breath. "I don't blame you for thinking I was no good for your sister. Even though you two had your issues, I know you always wanted to protect her. I feel the same way."

Waves lap against the pier. The tide is steady. The ocean seems to go forever.

This is where Asher would want to be.

I squeeze Violet's hand then I press on. "Wherever you are, I hope you have some way to look after Vi. But if you don't, then I hope to pick up the mantle. You were an amazing pianist, but that's not what I'll remember about you. It's the dry sense of humor, the stubborn unwillingness to give up or back down, the way you challenged me to a fight when you found out I slept with Violet, then the way we laughed over how we'd be willing to risk breaking our hands over her honor. I wish I could have helped you, so you'd still be here."

A weight lifts off my shoulders as I hand the urn to Violet. I can't imagine how heavy it feels for her.

Her lashes are heavy with tears. Happy or sad, I'm not sure. She's smiling but she's choking back a sob too.

I wipe her tears with my thumbs.

"Thank you." She holds the urn to her chest. Her eyes find mine. "That was beautiful. Did he really try to fight you?"

I nod.

"What did you do?"

"Asher was scrappy but he was tiny. I could have broken him in half. Told him I wasn't willing to risk being put out of commission."

"Were you?"

"For you, yeah."

She smiles. Her gaze goes to the ocean. She takes a deep breath. Another. Another dozen.

Her expression softens as she speaks. "You know, Mom and Dad didn't want me speaking at the funeral. They said I was so distraught I shouldn't have to worry about it. At the time, I thought they were worried I'd burst out the fucks, but now I realize they were right. I would have lost it." She takes a slow, steady breath. "But I'm still going to let the fucks fly."

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