Steve took So’s death hard. His grieving became unending. He walked to Sabner Park almost daily after losing his friend. He sat on the same park bench for hours, felt misplaced and bewildered there, in his world of relentless pain, caught day after day. A month went by like that. Two months. Three months. Eventually, Steve’s mind and heart came around, and he turned to his music for repair. Now, before he played the violin, each and every time, he thought of So. Never failed. A smile spread across his face, proving he would never forget his friend and loving So until the end of his days. Friendship was like that, Steve learned, loving those who are alive and those who were lost. Always. Until the end of time.
“I’m not going to Sabner Park. I haven’t been there in about seven months.”
“And I’m not having an affair on you, as I’ve already said. Clef is just a friend. Nothing more. Trust me when I say that.”
“I trust you,” Steve responded.
“Good. Now, believe what you just said.”