I couldn't stop crying.

Quincy and I had spent every day after our real first date together. It was glorious, exciting, romantic, and I loved every minute of it, which was why after six months of bliss, I had cried four nights in a row. It had been as long since I had spoken to Michael or thought of him for more than a brief moment, and now, sitting alone in my bathroom as Quincy waited for me on the couch for movie night, I balled my guilty, negligent eyes out.

"Hey, babe. Can I come in?"

"No," I replied as I turned on the faucet full blast.

"I can hear you from down the hall. How can I help?"

I began to sob beyond the decibels of the streaming water in front of me. "I'm fine. I promise. I just need a minute."

"Okay. I'm here, right here when you're ready."

I knew that, which caused me to cry even more because Quincy was absolute perfection. It had been forever since I had been seen, heard, valued as a woman in the eyes of an extraordinary man. After the pain of losing the love of my life, I hadn't believed nor desired for that to be possible, and yet growing closer to Quincy over the past months felt phenomenal. That was, until the moment I opened the bottom drawer of the bathroom vanity and found Michael's grooming kit. Compelled to unzip the bag, I flipped open the top and found a picture of the two of us tucked into a slot next to his favorite aftershave. I caught a whiff of the last scent he carried before his heart attack, and that, after over two years of mourning, was the moment I lost my shit.

What the hell was I doing? How could I have been so insensitive to the man who loved me first? How could I not think of him, miss him, grieve for him when he died loving me? My hands shook as I dialed Marley's number.

"Hey there, shuga foot. How's movie night?"

I wept.

"Hey, hey, what's going on?"

"I found Michael's grooming kit." I managed to declare between huffs, sobs and the wiping of pouring snot.

"Oh, honey. I'm sorry. I thought we took care of all of that."

"What am I doing? How can I just act as though he never existed?"

"Baby, you're being human, and Mike will always be a part of you. There's no way you can ever act as though he doesn't exist when he was such an essential piece of your life, the way you love, the way you live. He's always with you."

"Marley, I can't do this."

"Do what?"

"I can't just let him go, not even for Quincy."

"Did Quincy ask that of you?"

I huffed, stared at the puffed skin beneath my eyes, then mumbled. "No, he didn't."

"Then why do you feel you have to?"

"I'm happy without Micheal and it feels so... wrong."

"Where's Quincy, now?"

"In the living room, I think."

"Okay, where are you?"

"Locked in the bathroom."

"Are you up for talking to Quincy about this?"

"I guess not since I haven't seen him in nearly two hours."

"That's okay. Sit tight, and I'll get back to you."

After Marley disconnected the call, I leaned my head onto the vanity top to pray for clarity and for my broken heart to heal. An hour later, there was another knock on the bathroom door.

"I'm fine, Quincy." I nearly yelled my lie, hoping that would make both of us believe it.

"Open up. It's me."

Wrinkling my brows, I glanced at my disheveled appearance in the mirror, made a futile attempt to wipe my face, then to straighten my mess of hair. Steadying myself for the tongue lashing I was about to receive, I squared my shoulders, stood, then unlocked the bathroom door. To my surprise, Marley rushed inside and pulled me in for a momentous bear hug. I was too stunned to shed another tear. When she released my weary shoulders, she still didn't bother to say a word, only pulled the picture from my clutch, picked up Michael's grooming kit, tenderly gripped my hand, then led me down the hall and into the living room. Quincy wasn't there.

"Where-"

"He and Daniel are grabbing a bite."

"What is all of this?" In utter confusion, I peered around my living room.

"This is how we're finally going to progress you towards closure." Marley lay down the kit and photo, walked towards my picture wall, and stood. "Come here," she ordered while waving me in her direction.

Not feeling particularly pleased with what I figured was about to happen, I hesitantly maneuvered around small packing boxes, paper and a bag of styrofoam peanuts scattered on my floor. Next to Marley, I asked, "What do you think you're about to do?"

She released a half smile, then replied without addressing my question or my attitude. "I remember this night." Marley brushed her hand across the frame of a picture of Michael and I at her sister's wedding.

"Marley are you-"

She cut off my attempt to ask her to admit what I already knew and asked. "Why were you smiling like a creepy old lady in this pic?"

"I'm not doing this." I whined as I protested.

"Look at your hair. It almost looks the way it does now. After y'all came back from that extra long trip to the restroom, Mike and Daniel high-fived, and my nasty ass husband thought we were going to do the "do" in the same place y'all did."

I chuckled, sniffled, then wiped another tear as the joy of that evening began to flood my mangled emotions. "So, you waited until everybody left and got ate out on stage at the bride and groom's table."

Marley laughed. "That's right, dammit. I'm a leader, not a follower."

Failing to remain pissed at my best friend, I snickered, then confessed. "That was a great night."

She seized the moment, guided my hand onto the edge of the frame, then whispered. "It was. Now, pack this with that memory."

I tried to pull, but the frame seemed to be super glued to the wall.

Marley placed her hand on top of mine. "You can do this, I promise."

Hours and an ocean of tears later, Jill Scott crooned, Hear My Cry, while Marley and I sat on the floor surrounded by three empty bottles of wine. We leaned back to back onto one another for support as she reached over her shoulder to hand me the pic I found in Michael's grooming kit.

"I miss him too, Dana. Lord knows I do, and it's not as easy for me as you think to deal with losing Mike. But there's so much good he left behind. Good that can and should be enjoyed amid the pain of his absence, like you. Even though you've always been my best friend, you and my cousin were the quintessential pair, and I loved every crazy moment you shared."

I gently tugged the picture from her hand, then smiled through even more tears. Me and Michael's excitement the day we arrived home from Bologna after his graduation was larger than life. A month later, when he proposed, Michael told me that was the moment he had decided he wanted me to become his wife. With that thought, my heart broke all over again. Marley turned to pull me in another bear hug, but this time, she cried too.

Moments later, the doorbell rang. Marley and I wiped our faces. Then, drunk as two coons digging through a bar's trash, we clambered and bumped into one another as we attempted to get on our feet. Becoming hysterical with laughter, I loosened my grip and the picture in my hand, the final one that needed to be packed away, fluttered into the last open box.

Ceremoniously,  Marley and I watched it land. She gripped my sweaty palm, squeezed it, then asked. "You good?"

I nodded, wiped my face with the back of my hoodie sleeve, then answered the door. Quincy stepped into the foyer, and comforted me with a much needed smile and embrace as Snoh Aalegra serenaded us with, I Didn't Mean To Fall In Love.

I don't remember Marley and Daniel leaving, but when I woke, I was fully clothed, with Quincy's muscular arms keeping me snug next to his warm body within a grasp just firm enough to fill my soul with a renewed sense of joy. Slowly wiggling free, I sat up on the side of the bed, causing him to stir, but not wake. Even his rest brought me peace.

Once he settled, I reached for the one picture of Michael that Marley had allowed me to keep. The smoothness of the glass did little to remove my recollection of the curves of his chin, the softness of his skin, or to deny me of the memory of how I missed him with every fiber of my being. I sniffled, and Quincy stirred again. This time, I took the moment to glance over my shoulder at the man laying in my bed. The one who danced with and comforted me without uttering a single word while I had wept for the remainder of the night.

"Hey, Babe." I turned, then whispered to Micheal's picture tucked within the silver frame. "I miss you, but things are... different now, and I want to introduce you to Quincy Winters. He's an amazing man that I need you to be the first to know that I think I can love."

"And I can love you."

Quincy scared the hell out of me. I screamed, flinched and dropped Micheal's picture on the cool, hardwood floor. Jumping up, Quincy rushed around to my side of the bed, then flopped to his knees as he apologized profusely while retrieving shards of glass from around my bare feet.

"It's okay," I offered as I gripped his wrist, stared into his eyes, then kissed his cheek. "Really, it's okay. I'll clean this up."

He rose from the floor, and I gave him a waste basket to discard the pieces of glass in his hand.

"Go, get cleaned up. I'll take care of this and meet you in the kitchen."

After convincing him I was in a good place, he left. I swept, vacuumed the floor, then removed Micheal's picture from the shattered frame. I ventured down the hall, and just before rounding the corner to the kitchen, I opened a sealed box to lay Michael's final picture inside. Tenderly kissing the beds of my fingers, I sighed as a final tear landed on top of them, covering his lips.

"I will always love you," I promised before re-taping the box, then joining Quincy to start a new day and what I hoped would be a fresh adventure for both of our lives.