: Chapter 9
I stare at my phone as I take my seat at the front of the aisle, where Zane’s four brothers have already gathered. It’s odd just how much Serenity and that damn list of hers have been on my mind. She’s single-handedly taken away all my worries about facing my grandfather, and she doesn’t even know it.
I barely notice him sitting one row over when, normally, I’d have been anxious, worried about every word I say. This time, I’m a lot more concerned about how short Serenity has been in her text messages. It’s clear she feels awkward about the whole situation, and fuck, I don’t know how to handle this. Do I pretend I never saw her list, like she asked me to, or do I acknowledge it so we can talk about it?
All of a sudden, an unwelcome thought infiltrates my mind, showing me images of her in bed with some nameless man who won’t give a damn about her. Something I’ve never experienced before settles in my stomach. It’s not quite protectiveness, but it’s something close to it. Whatever it is, it fucking infuriates me.
I don’t snap out of my thoughts until Zane enters the room, reluctance written all over his face. His brothers all collectively breathe sighs of relief, clearly having thought he might not show at all. I put my phone away as Zane’s youngest brother reluctantly hands one of his older brothers a fifty, and I can’t help but smile. I suppose some things never change—including their penchant for placing bets amongst themselves.This belongs to NôvelDrama.Org - ©.
Music begins to play, and we all rise as the doors open. Everyone turns to watch Celeste enter on Dad’s arm, but I keep my eyes on Zane, praying I wasn’t wrong about him. He swallows hard, his eyes widening. Every last shred of reluctance and hatred melts away, until all that’s left is that same expression he used to wear around my sister—utter devotion.
Something about it reminds me of Serenity and the conversation we had. This kind of unwavering devotion…that’s what she deserves, and Theo will never give it to her. He doesn’t deserve to have her to himself when he doesn’t appreciate her the way he should.
For one single godforsaken moment, I wonder what it’d be like if I truly did take her virginity like she wants me to, taking what he doesn’t deserve. I push the thought away as quickly as it came and clench my jaw, refocusing my attention on my sister. That fucking list. It completely messed me up, and I’m starting to think I’ll never quite forget about it.
Dad places Celeste’s hand in Zane’s, and he takes it carefully, like he’s scared the moment will break. He hasn’t taken his eyes off her once, and the way he’s looking at her makes me wonder if he’s even aware of anything but her.
I sigh and run a hand through my hair, hoping this marriage truly will be the remedy I told Serenity it would be. It’s been years since I last saw my sister smile genuinely, and fuck, I can’t even remember the sound of her laughter. Her world is cast in shadows without Zane, but she’d never admit it.
I watch them carefully throughout the ceremony and draw a shaky breath when Zane says I do. Celeste’s hand trembles as he pushes a wedding band onto her finger, and when it’s her turn to say her vows, her voice breaks, her heartache bleeding into it.
Zane smiles at her so tenderly that I can’t help but put my faith in him—a man that looks at my sister like that won’t hurt her. He might pretend to, but her heart will be safe in his hands. The officiant tells Zane that he may kiss his bride, and his gaze drops to her mouth. He looks at her like he can’t quite believe this is real, that they’re standing at the altar together.
Zane leans in to kiss her, and Celeste rises to her tiptoes, deepening the kiss. I grin and cheer along with everyone else, snapping them out of the moment. The way my sister just kissed Zane back eviscerated all my remaining worries. It’s clear their journey isn’t going to be easy, but they’ll walk it together, and I know exactly what’ll be at the end of it: the same happily ever after that Serenity wants so badly.
Mom takes my arm as we’re led into a large reception hall, her expression only barely disguising her concern. “She’ll be happy, won’t she?” Mom whispers, and I wrap my arm around her fully.
“Yes,” I tell her resolutely. The love between Zane and Celeste is unlike anything I’ve ever seen before, and if they can’t make it…fuck. Then what hope is there for the rest of us?
“What about you, sweetheart?” Mom asks, glancing over her shoulder at my grandfather, who’s trailing behind with Dad. “Are you doing okay?” Mom worries endlessly, and I’m always scared something I do or say will keep her up at night. She struggles to keep the peace, and I hate that she feels responsible for doing that at all. It’s been years, and I’ve made peace with the situation, but I know she hasn’t. Grandpa made his choice, certain I’d fail without his support, and it just made me work harder, made me appreciate what I’ve built more. I don’t think we’ll ever reconcile, and I’ve learned to accept that. I just wish Mom would too. “Weddings can be tough,” she adds, and fresh guilt suddenly washes over me as realization hits.
It’s not just my grandfather she’s worried about—she’s referring to Tyra too. Celeste’s wedding should’ve made me think of her, but it didn’t. For the first time since we lost her, she wasn’t on my mind. “Mom, I have the most beautiful woman in the room on my arm,” I tell her, my voice soft. “I’m doing more than okay.”
She laughs, her whole face lighting up, and I grin back at her. “Are you sure you’re okay? You were quite absent-minded last Sunday. I worry about you.”
Mom insisted on doing weekly cooking classes shortly after Grandpa disowned me, and she’s made both Celeste and me attend over video call every single Sunday for years now. It’s her attempt to keep our family together despite everything, but I suspect it’s also just to check in with Celeste and me.
“Tyra is gone, Archer,” she reminds me. “You have to move on.”
My heart sinks at the mention of her name, and my eyes flutter closed, guilt and pain tugging at me in equal measure. “I know,” I murmur. I know—but I can’t. I don’t deserve to.
I haven’t even gone on a single date since Tyra went missing—not any real ones, anyway. Some staged ones to keep the media and my friends and family off my back, but that’s it. Each time I try to move on, guilt eats at me, reminding me that I don’t deserve to be happy when Tyra might still be out there, waiting for me.
If I hadn’t broken up with her days before we were meant to go on holiday together, she’d still be here. She wouldn’t have gone overseas by herself, and she wouldn’t have gone sightseeing only to never return.
I run a hand through my hair, my heart aching at the thought of her. At the very least, I wish I knew whether or not she’s still alive. Not knowing eats me up inside. Is she out there, living her life happily? Did she disappear because she wanted a fresh start after we broke up, or did something far more sinister happen?
I’ve done all I could to find her, going as far as retracing her footsteps over and over again, only to come up empty every time. None of my contacts have any influence out of the country either, and all my leads have come up empty.
“You have to try,” Mom says, squeezing my arm. “Please, Archer, at least try to be happy. It’s breaking my heart to see both of my kids like this. It’s been nearly two years, Arch. You can’t keep living like this.”
I look into my mother’s eyes, the tears in them fucking gutting me. “I am trying,” I tell her, but the way she looks at me tells me she knows I’m lying. The mere idea of pursuing happiness, of falling in love with someone while Tyra might be holding on to the memory of me, sickens me. I can’t do it. I can’t give up on her too—like everyone else has.