“He understood that his treatments might not work before most of us were ready to accept that possibility.”

My eyes filled again.

“And even while he was frightened, he kept trying to make everyone around him feel less afraid.”

Theo gently touched the red dress.

“This wasn’t just Jack teasing me.”

He smiled faintly.

“Well, maybe it was partly that.”

A few people laughed.

“But I think he also wanted to make one last choice for himself.”

The words struck me deeply.

During his illness, Jack had lost control over so many ordinary things.

School.

His appearance.

His appetite.

His independence.

Even the plans he’d made for his future.

But he’d chosen this strange, unforgettable moment.

A red dress.

A ridiculous promise.

A joke that would finally make sense months later.

Theo looked toward the coffin one last time.

“So this is for you, Jack.”

He glanced down at himself.

“And for the record, I absolutely hate wearing this thing.”

His sister called from the back.

“You look wonderful!”

The chapel erupted in laughter.

Even Daniel and I couldn’t help smiling.

Theo shook his head.

“Thanks, Emma.”

Then he faced Jack’s coffin.

“You win, buddy.”

And stepped away from the microphone.

After the service, people approached Theo one after another.

Some hugged him.

Others told him how much Jack would have loved the tribute.

Daniel’s brother approached first, looking uncomfortable.

“Theo, I owe you an apology.”

Theo frowned.

“For what?”

“I judged you the moment you walked into the chapel. I didn’t even give you a chance to explain.”

Theo shrugged.

“It’s okay.”

His uncle shook his head.

“No, it wasn’t. I’m sorry.”

Then he offered his hand.

Theo shook it.

An elderly aunt later told him she still didn’t understand why young people did half the things they did, but she thought his speech had been beautiful.

Theo smiled.

“Honestly, that’s fair.”

For the first time that day, he looked almost like the cheerful boy I’d known for years.

Later, after most guests had moved to the reception hall, I found Theo standing beside the photographs we’d displayed of Jack.

One showed the boys at eight years old, covered in mud and grinning mischievously.

Theo studied it quietly.

Then he spoke.