ZARA
The cool night air wraps around me like a blanket I didn't ask for. I sit alone on the concrete steps outside the venue, away from the golden lights and sparkling gowns, away from the music that still floats in the air like everything isn't falling apart.
I hug my arms around myself. I haven't cried — not yet. My eyes burn, but the tears haven't fallen. Maybe I'm still in shock. Maybe I'm just too numb to let them fall.
How could I have been so stupid?
I lean forward, pressing my palms into my knees, staring down at my heels. The same heels I hesitated to wear. The same ones Kaylee picked out for me during our shopping trip. I suddenly feel ridiculous in them. Ridiculous in this dress. Ridiculous for ever thinking I belonged beside someone like Liam.
A soft shuffle behind me breaks my thoughts. I don't have to look up to know who it is.
"Kaylee," I murmur, exhaling slowly.
She walks quietly, and then I see her sit down beside me. Neither of us says anything for a second. The silence between us is heavy, but not hostile.
"I know you're here to tell me I told you so," I say finally, still not looking at her.
Kaylee shakes her head gently, and I feel the movement beside me. "No, Zara," she says quietly. "I'm just here to be with you."
That's all it takes. My composure wavers. My lip trembles. The tears I've been holding back threaten to break through. But I don't let them. Not yet.
"I should've listened to you," I whisper, hating how broken I sound. "You tried to tell me. You all tried. But I…" I swallow hard. "I wanted to believe he was different. I wanted to believe I was different."
Kaylee doesn't say anything. She just reaches over and wraps her arms around me. I lean into her touch, closing my eyes. For the first time in hours, I let my shoulders fall.
"You're not stupid," she says softly against my hair. "You're just someone who wanted to be loved."
My throat tightens. I take a shaky breath and pull away just enough to look at her.
"I can take you home," she offers gently. "We don't have to stay here. We don't have to pretend for anyone else."
I shake my head, my voice barely above a whisper. "No. You should stay. Enjoy the night. You look beautiful, Kaylee."
She blinks, looking at me like she doesn't believe I'm still thinking about her in this moment.
"I don't care about prom right now," she replies, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear.
"But you should." I give her a small, sad smile. "Please, Kaylee. Just let me go home alone. I need a minute. I need space."
She looks like she wants to protest, but then she sees it — the emptiness in my eyes. The hurt. The quiet request for solitude.
"Okay," she says finally, nodding. "But the moment you get home, you text me. Or I'm showing up at your window with your favorite ice cream and refusing to leave."
A small laugh slips out of me — the tiniest, most fragile laugh — but it's real.
"I promise."
She squeezes my hand before standing up, smoothing down her dress. She lingers, reluctant to leave me sitting here like this, but she respects me enough not to force anything. That's what real friends do.
As she walks away, I finally let a tear roll down my cheek. Just one. I swipe it away before it has the chance to linger.
I sit there for a few more minutes, letting the night wash over me, letting the pain settle into something quieter. Something I know will ache for a long time.
But I also know this:
This pain? It won't define me.
He broke me, yes. He shattered something in me I hadn't even realized was fragile. But I'm still here.
And someday — maybe not soon, but someday — I'll be whole again.