More laughter.
“But mostly I think he wanted one last thing he could control.”
That landed harder than anything else.
Cancer had taken control away from Jack piece by piece.
His school. His hair. His appetite. His privacy. His plans.
Eventually, his ability to walk without help.
But he had chosen this.
A red dress.
A promise.
A joke waiting six months for its punch line.
Theo finished, “So this is for Jack.”
He looked down at himself.
“I hate it.”
His sister called from the back, “You look great!”
The room erupted.
Even I laughed.
Theo shook his head.
“Thank you, Emma.”
Then he looked at the coffin one final time.
“You win, idiot.”
And stepped away.
After the service, everyone wanted to talk to Theo.
