Nick's POV
I've always hated suits.
But today, I wore one for Zara.
The black jacket felt too tight. The collar choked me. My fists remained clenched in my lap as the priest droned on about peace and heaven and how "God takes the good ones early." I wanted to stand up and scream at him that none of this made sense.
Zara wasn't supposed to be in a casket.
She was supposed to be riding her motorbike down some open road, wind in her face, music in her ears. Not… here. Not gone.
I looked straight ahead, but I couldn't focus. Couldn't breathe. Couldn't feel anything except the deep, hot ache in my chest that hadn't dulled since the morning I found out she'd died.
The moment they showed me her bike on the news, I knew.
I knew before the confirmation call. I knew before the police visited our house. My knees gave out. My heart collapsed in on itself. Kaylee had been the only thing stopping me from breaking something that day.
I sat next to her now, her hand over mine, steady and warm. But it didn't help.
Nothing could.
Because I was supposed to protect Zara.
That was my job as her brother. Not just in the stupid biological way we were thrown together. But in the real way. The way that counted.
I had watched her trust that bastard. I had watched her fall. And I had let it happen because I thought she'd figure it out herself. Because I didn't want to control her.
Now she was dead.
And Liam Hunter was still breathing.
When Kaylee went up to speak, I didn't move. I just stared at the floor, replaying every memory, every moment I could've stepped in, could've said something, could've stopped all of this.
When my name was called to go up, I didn't have a speech.
All I had were her gloves.
The ones she said her mom bought for her on her sixteenth birthday . She used to wear them all the time, even indoors. Called them her "lucky pair."
I walked up, placed them on top of the coffin, and said nothing. My throat burned with words I couldn't say. There was no line strong enough to sum her up. No sentence that could carry what she meant to me.
So I stood there in silence. Let the pain speak for me.
When I turned, I caught Liam's eyes across the chapel.
He didn't look smug. Didn't look proud. He looked like he hadn't slept since she died. And for a second, I wanted to hit him again. I wanted to drag him outside and break every bone in his body like he broke her.
But I didn't.
Because Zara wouldn't have wanted that.
She never wanted revenge. She wanted peace.
And now she had it.
Later, when we walked out into the gray afternoon, the silence wrapped around us like a storm that hadn't broken yet. Kaylee stood beside me, her arm looped around mine.
I didn't say anything until we reached the car.
"I let her down," I whispered, my voice barely a breath.
Kaylee looked up at me, her eyes red and rimmed with tears. "No, you didn't."
But she was wrong.
I did.
I let her down the moment I didn't fight harder to pull her away from him. I let her down when I let that boy charm his way into her life and destroy the light in her.
And no matter how many times someone says it wasn't my fault—I'll carry this weight until the day I die.