At the back of the room, a wooden sign still displayed Madison and Tyler beneath the date.

“May I ask you something?” he said.

“You’ve seen me at my lowest. You can ask almost anything.”

“Why did you stay?”

Maddie turned the champagne flute between her fingers. “Because I can cry tomorrow.” He waited. “I can cry tomorrow, and Tuesday, and every night for the next six months if I need to.

But this room only belongs to me until midnight. My dad spent years saving for it. I wasn’t going to let Tyler take the food, the flowers, the music, and my father’s sacrifice just because he took himself.”