LIAM
I never imagined the last time I'd see Zara would be in a coffin.
The rain hadn't started, but the clouds were heavy. Like the sky itself was mourning. The church was full, but it still felt hollow. People came dressed in black, some with umbrellas, others with red-rimmed eyes. I sat at the far back, where the shadows reached and no one would dare acknowledge me.
It felt like everyone could hear my guilt. See it crawling under my skin. I didn't deserve to be here—but I couldn't stay away either.
The room echoed with the quiet sound of sniffling. The kind of broken silence only funerals knew how to create.
Every second in that room felt like a scream inside my head. Every soft hymn, every whispered condolence—none of it touched me. All I could hear was her laugh. All I could see was the way her face fell when I told her she'd never be my type. I'd memorized that moment frame by frame, and now I'd never get the chance to apologize for it.
I was the reason she was gone.
When Nick stepped up to speak, the silence in the church sharpened. He didn't speak right away. He stood tall, a pair of black gloves in his hand. Her riding gloves. The ones she used every morning, proudly. He placed them gently on top of the white coffin, fingers trembling only slightly. He didn't cry.
He didn't need to.
His silence was heavier than words.
And when he turned, his eyes locked on mine for a fraction of a second.
That was all it took.
It felt like my chest cracked open.
Because in that split second, I saw it all—blame, rage, heartbreak. The kind of heartbreak that burns a hole through your soul. And I'd caused it.
I should've looked away. But I couldn't. I took it. Every ounce of his anger. I deserved it.
When the service was almost over, the pastor invited people to say their final goodbyes. People lined up slowly, hesitantly, walking toward the casket with flowers, notes, bracelets, necklaces, and tears. I stayed seated until nearly everyone had gone.
Then I stood up.
Nick's eyes followed me the moment I moved.
So did Kaylee's.
My knees nearly gave out with every step I took. My legs were weak, like even my body didn't want me near her.
I could see her coffin now. Pure white. A line of red roses running across the top. There was no photo of her displayed, just her gloves, a bouquet of lilies, and a silver chain someone must've placed earlier. Maybe her mom.
The sight made my throat close.
Zara would've hated this.
She never liked the color white. She once told me it reminded her too much of hospitals—of cold places where people go to disappear. I remembered the way she scoffed at flowers too, said she preferred leather, and when I teased her about being soft on the inside, she just rolled her eyes and told me I'd never know.
And now I never would.
I was two rows away when Nick moved.
He stood, abrupt and angry.
"Don't," he growled, his voice low, warning, ready to tear me apart all over again.
But before he could take a step, Kaylee grabbed his arm. "Nick," she whispered, barely audible, but firm. "Not here. Please."
He froze, eyes still burning through me. But he didn't move. Didn't speak.
Kaylee pulled him back down, and slowly, almost like time had slowed to a crawl, I took the final steps toward her.
I pulled the bracelet from my jacket pocket—the one with our initials on it. The one she wore so proudly. The one she returned through Levi without a word. Just holding it felt like holding a shard of glass. It cut, even in my palm.
My fingers hovered over the casket. "I don't expect you to forgive me," I whispered, the words barely escaping. "I wouldn't either."
I stared at the bracelet for a long time before placing it beside her gloves.
"I don't know when it happened," I continued, voice shaking, "but I fell for you. Somewhere between the stupid jokes and your side-eyes… I fell. And I never told you. I didn't even realize it until it was too late. Until I saw you walk away… and it tore me apart."
The silence pressed in on me. People watched, but I didn't care anymore.
"You were never just a game to me, Zara. You were the only real thing I ever had." I lowered my head. "And I ruined it."
A tear slid down my cheek and splashed against the wood of the coffin. I didn't wipe it.
"I hope… wherever you are, you found peace. And I hope you're with someone who never made you feel like a second choice."
I took a step back, choking on the lump in my throat.
Her name burned against my tongue like a prayer.
"Goodbye, Zara," I whispered, before turning away.
And with every step I took back down the aisle, I knew I would never walk out of this church the same.
Because a part of me had died with her.