Semua Bab Fragile Ties Of Love: Bab 61 - Bab 65

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

LIAM: The auditorium buzzed with excitement — tassels swinging, caps slipping, parents clapping at names called out with pride. This was supposed to be the moment we had all waited for. Freedom. Celebration. Closure. But for me, it was a reminder of everything I’d lost. Rows of students dressed in navy blue lined the stage, our names listed neatly on the back of the programs. My name was there too: Liam Hunter, bold and undeserving. It felt heavy on the page, like it shouldn’t be printed next to theirs. Especially not next to hers. Zara’s name was missing. But her presence wasn’t. An empty chair sat in the front row, decorated with a single white lily and a photo of her smiling in that way that made the sun jealous. The school said it was to honor her memory. That she’d left a mark too deep to be forgotten. They were right. She had. On all of us. But most of all, on me. I sat in the back row with the rest of the graduates, my fingers clenched around my cap as the ceremon