The sky wore mourning too.
Gray clouds hovered low, thick with a sorrow that didn't need thunder to make itself heard. The churchyard was quiet, the only sounds the rustle of dry leaves and the occasional whisper of grief that drifted past like ghosts. Everyone was dressed in black — faces pale, expressions hollow.
And I stood at the far corner.
Not because I wanted to.
Because that's where they put me. Where the whispers couldn't reach my ears — but the stares still did.
An eyesore. A scandal. A cruel reminder.
My black gown clung to me like a second skin. The long sleeves hid my trembling arms, and the veil over my face did nothing to cover the devastation sitting on every breath I took. I could feel their judgment without even looking. I wasn't welcome. I wasn't wanted. Not here.
My heels kept sinking into the soft grass with every step I tried not to take. But my eyes stayed fixed on the casket — closed, silent, sacred. It was resting near the altar, dressed in white lilies. One photo sat atop it.
Him.
Smiling.
Aiden.
That lopsided smile I used to kiss. That smile that made me believe I was safe.
I stood frozen.
Just outside the circle of mourners. Just inside the radius of grief.
Austin was beside me. Quiet. Still.
He hadn't said a word since we got here, but his presence felt like armor. Not warm. Not comforting. Just… deliberate. Like a wall between me and the ones who thought I didn't belong here.
But it wasn't their eyes that hurt me most.
It was the memories.
The weight of what I'd lost.
Of who I used to be — with him.
I'd worn this dress once before. Aiden's first gala. He told me I looked like a dream in black. Said I was a storm wrapped in silk.
Now it just felt like a shroud.
My vision blurred. My body swayed.
Austin grabbed my elbow, his voice low. "Breathe. Don't do this here."
I tried.
God, I tried.
But the priest's voice became a distant hum. Verses blurred into meaningless noise. My mind wouldn't stop. Wouldn't let me forget.
Aiden teaching me to dance barefoot in the kitchen. The way he used to brush his thumb along my lip when we kissed. The way he whispered my name like it was sacred.
Now all of it… gone.
A sob ripped out of me before I could choke it down.
Someone turned to look. Someone else sighed.
Another voice, barely above a whisper, cut like glass — "She shouldn't be here."
And for one fragile second, I wished I wasn't.
"I can't," I choked out, voice breaking. "I can't do this. I shouldn't have come."
Austin's grip tightened on my arm. "You had to. He wouldn't have wanted it any other way.
I turned on him, pain burning through the blur of tears. "You don't get to speak for him."
He didn't answer.
The casket began to lower into the ground.
My knees buckled.
I felt myself falling — until Austin caught me again. His arms around me, not gentle, but steady. Strong.
I buried my face into his chest, and the sobs tore through me. No use holding them back now.
"I promised him forever," I whispered, clutching his jacket like it was the only thing keeping me from unraveling. "And now he's gone. And I didn't even get to say goodbye."
"He called you last," Austin murmured. "That means something."
I lifted my head slowly, every muscle aching from the weight of grief. "Then why didn't he wait? Why did he sound like he knew?"
Austin's face stayed still. But his eyes… they flickered. Just for a second.
"I don't know," he said.
But I didn't believe him.
The soil hit the coffin with a soft, final thud. Again. And again. Like nails in a coffin of my heart.
I stared at the grave, my lips parted in a soundless scream.
And that's when it hit me.
That chill crawling down my spine.
The question that refused to stay buried:
What if this wasn't an accident? What if he knew?
The ceremony ended quickly. Too quickly. I don't even remember walking back to the car.
Austin brought me home.
But it didn't feel like home anymore.
The air was too still. Too sterile. Too silent.
The guests had left. Most of the food hadn't even been touched. People came, said the right words, gave me hollow looks — then vanished like they couldn't bear to be around me for more than a minute.
Now it was just… me.
I sat on the stairs, heels kicked off by the door, veil tossed carelessly on the floor like a memory I didn't want to keep. My feet were bare against the marble. My gown pooled around me like it didn't know where it belonged anymore.
From the next room, I could hear Austin speaking in hushed tones with the lawyers. Talking about estates. Inheritance. Next of kin.
As if Aiden was nothing more than paperwork now.
I stared ahead. And then I saw it.
His jacket. Draped over the back of the couch. Like he'd be back to grab it any minute.
I got up.
My legs were numb. My body felt like it didn't belong to me. But I walked to it anyway.
I ran my fingers along the collar.
Pressed it to my face.
His scent was still there.
Cologne. Coffee. Him.
I sank into the couch, curling into myself, hugging the jacket like it could hold me together.
I cried.
I let it out.
Everything I'd held back in that churchyard. Every scream I swallowed. Every goodbye I never got to say.
I don't know how much time passed.
Then I heard footsteps.
Austin.
I didn't look up, but I felt his presence. Like a shadow crawling across the floor.
"He left everything to you," he said.
I didn't move. "Don't say that. Don't make this about money.
"I'm not. Just thought you should know."
"I don't care."
He stepped closer. "You need to eat something."
"I can't."
Silence.
"He wouldn't want you like this."
I looked up, eyes red, voice raw. "Stop telling me what he would've wanted. He's gone. We don't know what he wanted. We didn't even get to say goodbye."
There. That flicker again. Guilt. Pain. Something deeper.
I stood suddenly. Threw the jacket aside. I couldn't even hold onto that without breaking.
My voice dropped. Sharp. Dangerous. "Is there something you're not telling me? Did he call you too?"
Austin didn't answer
I stepped closer, fists clenched. "I asked you a question."
Finally, he breathed out, "He said he had enemies. That things were complicated. That if anything ever happened to him… I should look after you."
The floor dropped out from under me.
So it wasn't an accident.
I didn't collapse this time. I stood straighter.
And colder.
"Then I want the truth," I said. "All of it. And I want to know who did this to him."
Austin looked at me, face stone. "No."
I blinked. "Excuse me?"
"You're not going down that path," he said. "Leave it. Mourn him. Move on."
"I'm not letting this go.
"You don't have a choice," he snapped, stepping into my space, towering. "If you want to survive, Aria, you stay out of it. That's final."
His dominance would've scared anyone else.
But I wasn't anyone.
I stared at him, defiance rising from my shattered heart. "You think you can protect me from something you don't even understand."
"I do understand it," he said, voice like steel. "You don't."
"Then teach me."
"No." His voice was ice. "I'm not losing you too."
I froze.
There it was—beneath the coldness, the cruelty—something real.
But I didn't soften.
"I'm already lost," I said quietly. "But if you won't help me, I'll find out on my own."
He didn't stop me as I walked away.
But I felt his eyes on my back.
Watching. Waiting.
Maybe he wasn't ready to open the door.
But I was already halfway through it.
And I wasn't turning back..