Aftermath.

It's cold. Fucking freezing rather. We're standing outside staring at your casket. I'm trying to, at least. I just can't stand the idea of you in a box. Tre's next to me, trying his hardest not to cry. Adie's holding Joey and Jakob's hands and crying silently.

I just feel numb. I can't believe you're gone. I can't believe you'd leave. You're never going to show me a song again or make dirty jokes about Disney movies or call me at midnight because you and Adie had a fight.

I didn't expect it, but it wasn't really a shock either. I guess after you find someone's suicide note it's always hanging in the back of your mind. I just didn't think you'd actually do it. You always said you'd never leave your family and now . . . two fatherless kids and a widow.

Tre's crying now. Softly. He reaches out and grabs my hand and I squeeze it, letting him know I'm here, I understand. And I understand him. He lost one of his best friends. He's crying.

I just don't understand you. And I don't understand this. And I don't understand anything that lead up to this point. How did we get here dressed in black to stare at a mahoghany coffin and a minister telling me it's time to give the eulogy.

Adie couldn't do it. Tre flat out refused. I tried to say no, but I couldn't. Closure maybe? I don't know. You would have hated this. A minister at your funeral? A mahoghany coffin? Cream roses?

"Billie Joe and I knew each other for twenty-five years." I start. My voice cracks. I don't know how I thought I could do this. "He was my best friend. I . . ." All these faces. "I'm sorry. I can't do this. It's wrong."

And I walk toward my car, painfully aware of everyone staring at me. I get in and start it, then break down. I don't think I've ever cried so hard in my life. Then the passenger door opens and Adie slides in.

"Mike." She reaches for my hand and holds it, caressing my fingers with her thumb. "Mike?"

"I-I'm sorry. I just . . . I can't believe he's gone."

"I know." she says simply.

We sit there for awhile and I dry my eyes, glancing toward the gravesite. Everyone's gone. "Tre took the boys to his place. I'm picking them up there." she says, as if she's reading my mind. "Mike . . . I needed to talk to you."

"What about?" I ask. You no doubt.

"About you . . . and Billie Joe." she says softly. With her free hand, she gently turns my head to face her. "Did you know?"" she asks.

"Know what?"

"Billie Joe was in love with you."

I wince at her words. I never thought they'd come out of Adie's mouth. I didn't know she knew. You and I didn't talk about it after that day with the notebooks. Ever. Not a word. Things were fucked up for awhile, but I never said anything. Neither did you.

"You knew." she says, nodding. "I just wondered."

"Why?" I ask before I can stop myself.

She shrugs and then picks at her nails. "I just thought . . . in case you didn't know. I mean, there's not much that can happen because of it now." She looks at the gravesite and then back at me. "How long have you known?"

"About a year. Since we cleaned out the shed."

She nods. "I've known since we got married." She looks at her hands. "He . . . he used to say your name in his sleep if he was having a nightmare. And I asked him about it one night . . . he was never good at keeping secrets. His eyes."

I nod. I know. Your eyes always betrayed you, didn't they? Except in the instance of me knowing you were in love with me, of course. Then they were fucking unmoveable marbles.

"And you didn't care about it?" I ask.

She bites her lip for a minute. "A little, but not really. I knew he wouldn't do anything. And I knew you didn't know. It was just hard to watch him withdraw sometimes. Like when he'd call you on the phone and not kiss me afterward. But he loved me. And he loved you. Sometimes I'd wonder if it would have been right to get a divorce."

"He'd never have signed the papers." I say with a bit of a laugh. "And even if he had . . . it doesn't matter."

"Did you two ever . . ."

I shake my head. "No. Never."

She nods. "Look, I've got to get out of here for awhile. A few weeks by myself with the kids. I think we're going to move back to Minnesota. There's too many memories here. Can . . . can you go through the house for me? I packed up everything I want. You and Tre can go take whatever. Then throw the rest out for me?"

"Yeah."

"If you need anything, just call." She opens the door and prepares to leave.

"Adie?"

"Yeah?"

"You did the right thing, not mentioning divorce. He'd probably have done it sooner if he lost you and the boys."

She doesn't say anything, just gives a sort of nod and shuts the door, heading for her car.

She did the right thing, but I didn't. Once again, I failed to notice anything. You always said I knew you better than anyone, but I didn't. I couldn't tell when you were in love, I couldn't tell when you were hurting. I couldn't fix it.

I'd sort of like to put a gun to my own head right now, but I won't. You showed me first hand what happens when you do something like that, keep all your pain to yourself. I put my car in drive and take the turn that'll lead me to Tre's house.

I can't keep it inside anymore. It's got to come out. Everything. I've got to talk about it like you never did.

I guess that's the difference between us, Billie Joe. When it comes to your mistakes, you learn nothing and I learn everything.

And I love you still, but I can't let that hold me back. You fucked up everyone's life when you left, but I'll be damned if you'll put a bullet through my head.