Chapter 23
CARTER
In the evening, Rhi goes back to her place to change and get ready. I take a shower, stare at my closet for way too long trying to figure out what to wear to a party at a house I haven’t been to in over a year.
I settle on dark jeans and a flannel—casual, easy, not trying too hard.
Jake’s in the living room when I come out, already dressed and clearly excited. “You nervous?”
“Little bit.”
“Don’t be. It’s just a party. Same stupid house, same stupid people, same stupid traditions.” He grins. “But with better music, because I made the playlist this year.”
“That’s not reassuring.”
“It should be. My taste is impeccable.”
My phone buzzes. Rhi.
Ready when you are. Come get me?
Of course, darling.
I grab my jacket and keys. Jake looks at me, and there’s something serious in his expression.
“Hey,” he says. “I’m really happy you’re coming.”
“It’s just a party.”
“It’s not just a party. You’re coming home. That’s big.” He claps me on the shoulder.
I have to swallow hard. “Thanks, Jake.”
“Anytime, brother.”
When I pick up Rhi, she looks beautiful—dark jeans, boots, a sweater that makes her eyes even darker. Her hair is down for once, not in her usual practical ponytail, and it makes her look softer. More relaxed.
“You look amazing,” I say when she gets in the truck.
“You clean up pretty well yourself.” She leans over to kiss me. “Ready for this?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
“If you need to leave early, we leave. No judgment.”
“I know.” I take her hand. “But I don’t think I will. I think I’m actually ready for this.”
“Good.” She squeezes my fingers. “Then let’s go bring in the new year with your brothers.”
The Alpha Phi house looks exactly the same as it did when I was last here for New Year’s two years ago.
Same string lights wrapped around the porch railing. Same bass thumping through the walls. Same crowd of people spilling out onto the front lawn, even though it’s freezing.
Two years ago, Dominic was alive. He was inside, probably holding court in the kitchen, telling some story that had everyone laughing. And I was out here, drunk and stupid, making out with some girl whose name I forgot by morning.
This year, I’m sober. I’m holding Rhi’s hand. And Dominic is gone.
“You okay?” Rhi asks, squeezing my fingers.
“Yeah.” I take a breath. “Just... weird being back here.”
“We don’t have to stay long. We can do the countdown and leave.”
“No, I want to be here.” And I mean it. “I’ve been avoiding this place for too long.”
She leans into me, and I feel her warmth even through our winter coats. “Okay. But if you need to leave, we leave. No questions.”
That’s what she’s been doing for the past two days since our fight. Checking in. Asking what I need. Being present without hovering. It’s such a small thing, but it makes all the difference.
We head inside.
The house is packed—brothers, girlfriends, random people I vaguely recognize from campus. The air smells like cheap beer and cologne and that specific Alpha Phi scent that’s probably built into the walls at this point.
Jake spots us immediately and pushes through the crowd. “You made it! I didn’t think you’d actually come.”
“Yeah, well. Someone told me I should stop hiding.”
He grins. “Smart someone.” Then he sees Rhi and his grin widens. “Hey! Glad you came too. Carter’s been way less mopey since you got your shit together.”
“Jake,” I warn.
“What? I’m complimenting both of you.” He throws an arm around my shoulder. “Come on. Everyone’s in the back.”
We follow him through the crowd, past the living room where someone’s already spilled something on the carpet, past the kitchen where a drinking game is in full swing, out to the back deck where the smokers and the people who actually want to talk hang out.
There are maybe fifteen guys out here, most of them brothers I’ve known since freshman year. Marcus, who was Dominic’s little, is leaning against the railing. Tyler and Connor are arguing about something sports-related. A few others I recognize but don’t know well.
When they see me, the conversation stutters.
“Carter,” Marcus says, and there’s that tone. The careful one. The one that means they’re not sure what to say.
“Hey.” I keep my voice normal. “What’s up?”
“Not much. Just—you know. New Year’s.”
An awkward silence settles over the group.
This is what I’ve been avoiding. This moment where no one knows how to act around me. Where my presence makes everyone uncomfortable because they’re thinking about Dominic, but don’t want to say his name.
Rhi’s hand finds mine again, grounding me.
“So,” Tyler says, clearly trying to fill the silence. “You coming back to the house next semester? We’ve got that empty room on the second floor.”
“Maybe,” I say. “I’ve been thinking about it.”
“You should, man. It’s not the same without you.”
Another silence. This one longer.
They’re all avoiding it. It’s not the same without Dominic either.
And suddenly, I’m tired of it. Tired of pretending. Tired of everyone walking on eggshells.
“You know what I miss most about Dom?” I say, and every head turns to me. “The way he used to narrate everything like it was a nature documentary. Remember that?”
Marcus blinks, surprised. “Oh my god, yes. Especially during parties.”
“‘Here we observe the common frat bro in his natural habitat,’” I do my best Dominic impression, and it’s terrible, but a few guys laugh. “‘Note the aggressive posturing. The elaborate mating rituals.’”
“He did that during my date once,” Tyler says, warming up. “I brought this girl back here, and Dom just started following us around narrating. ‘The male approaches cautiously. He offers the female a beverage. Will she accept? The tension builds.’”
“She did not accept,” Connor adds. “She left.”
“Because Dominic wouldn’t stop!” Tyler’s laughing now, though, not angry. “But it was so fucking funny.”
“Remember when he convinced the whole house to do that charity 5K?” Marcus shakes his head. “And he showed up in a full banana costume?”
“And ran the entire thing in it,” I finish. “In August. In ninety-degree heat. He was so sweaty at the end that the costume was transparent.”
The guys are all laughing now, and it feels good. Natural. Not forced or careful.
“God, I miss that idiot,” Marcus says quietly, and the laughter fades but doesn’t disappear completely.
“Yeah,” I say. “Me too.”
“He was the best friend I could have asked for,” Marcus continues. “When I was going through that breakup sophomore year, he sat up with me until three in the morning just listening.”
“That was Dom,” Connor agrees. “He was just... there for people.”
“Remember when he organized that whole thing for Professor Straub?” someone else chimes in. “When her husband died? He got the whole house to make meals for her for like two months.”
“And he hand-delivered them,” Jake adds. “Every week. Rain or shine.”
“He was really good,” I say, and my voice cracks slightly. “Like, genuinely good. Not just nice. Good.”
Rhi squeezes my hand, and I squeeze back.
We stand there and this is what I’ve been missing. Not avoiding the pain, but sharing it. Remembering Dominic together. Letting him be more than just the hole he left behind.
“You know what?” I say. “I’ve been avoiding this house because I thought it would hurt too much. Being here without him. But, actually, it feels good. Talking about him. Remembering the stupid shit he did.”
“He did a lot of stupid shit,” Tyler agrees.
“So much stupid shit,” Connor adds.
“Like that time he tried to cook Thanksgiving dinner for the whole house and almost poisoned us,” someone says.
“Or when he decided to learn guitar and played ‘Wonderwall’ badly for six months straight.”
“‘Anyway, here’s Wonderwall,’” Marcus imitates, and we all groan in unison.
The stories keep coming. Some funny, some sweet, all of them Dominic. And with each one, I feel a little lighter. A little less like I’m drowning in his absence and a little more like I’m celebrating who he was.
Rhi’s been quiet this whole time, just standing next to me, but her presence is like an anchor.
After a while, Jake checks his phone. “Ten minutes to midnight.”
“Shit, really?” Tyler straightens up. “I need to find my girlfriend.”
The group starts to disperse, heading inside for the countdown. But Marcus stays behind, pulling me aside.
“Hey,” he says quietly. “I’m really glad you came tonight. It means a lot. To all of us.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. We’ve missed you, man. And I know it’s been hard. But you’re still part of this. You’re still our brother. Not just because of Dom, but because you’re you.”
The words hit harder than I expected.
“Thanks,” I manage. “That means a lot.”
“And if you ever want to talk about him—or anything—I’m here. We all are.” He claps me on the shoulder. “Don’t be a stranger, okay?”
“Okay.”
He heads inside, and it’s just me and Rhi on the deck.
“You did really well,” she says softly.
“Did I?”
“Yeah. You talked about him. You shared memories. You let yourself miss him without falling apart.” She turns to face me. “That’s huge, Carter.”
“It felt good,” I admit. “Scary, but good. Like I could actually remember him without it being this terrible, heavy thing.”
“He’d be proud of you.”
“You didn’t even know him.”
“I know you. And I know that what you did tonight—showing up, being honest, letting people in—that took courage. And from everything you’ve told me about Dominic, that sounds exactly like something he’d be proud of.”
I pull her close, wrapping my arms around her. “Thank you for being here.”
“Where else would I be?”
“I don’t know. Somewhere less chaotic? Somewhere that doesn’t smell like Natty Light and broken dreams?”
She laughs against my chest. “I like being with you. Even in places that smell like Natty Light.”
“That’s true love right there.”
“That’s definitely true love.”
From inside, I hear the countdown starting. Everyone shouting numbers, getting progressively louder and more drunk.
“TEN! NINE! EIGHT!”
“Should we go in?” Rhi asks.
“SEVEN! SIX! FIVE!”