Page 92 of The Wrong Promise

Not here.

I don’t have the energy for more emotion.

Averting my gaze, I watch as they lower Piper’s coffin into the grave. The finality is too much. I let out a sob, and like a chain reaction, an echo of sobbing sounds around me. Then, we’re asked to come forward to throw a rose into the grave. There are red, white, and yellow roses.

“We should choose yellow,” George whispers. “It signifies friendship and love between friends.” I nod and take the rose, but the moment I look down, my head spins. It’s too much. I throw the rose into the grave, move to the back of the line, and squat down on my haunches. I need a minute.

“Zara.” His gentle hand rests on my shoulder. “Do you need me to take you home?” I glance up into Jobe’s bloodshot eyes and shake my head, forcing myself to stand. He places a soft hand on my lower back. “Take some deep breaths. It will help.”

The priest says a final word and welcomes everyone to a special room on the grounds. The crowd disperses until I’m left standing with Lydia, George, and Jobe.

“I’m going to have a drink for Piper. Are you all coming?” George asks.

Lydia nods. “I can for a while.”

Jobe looks at me, and I glance back to George. “I want to but, I don’t think I can. It was a long flight, and I’m struggling with it all. Can we do something special for her tomorrow night?”

“Of course.” He leans in and kisses my cheek, then shakes Jobe’s hand before he and Lydia follow behind the rest of Piper’s family and friends.

I turn to Jobe, and before I say anything, he wraps his arms around me and pulls me into his chest. I let go of everything and cry for a few minutes before I come up for air. “This is the first funeral I have attended for someoneunder eighty years of age,” I mumble. “It’s so unfair. She had everything to live for.”

“She really did. I have no doubt she would have been a close friend of yours for life, even across oceans. I wish it weren’t true, but that’s life. We know little of the sadness many families go through. Death is not only about old age. It’s why I choose to live my best life, for we never know our fate. What will happen tomorrow…”

“I’m going to miss her,” I sob again.

“I know. But I’ll be here for you for as long as you need me to stay.”

What?

I step away from him. “Jobe, I—” I shake my head. It would be easy to slide back into his arms, but it would make my broken heart even worse.

“Can we please go home and talk?”

I nod, but the last thing I want to do is talk. I need to sleep the entire weekend and when I wake up, I want this nightmare to be over.

27

JOBE

We drive home in silence,and I don’t let go of Zara’s hand. I thank Ben and inform him we won’t require his services until Monday.

I lead Zara to the elevator, then inside the penthouse.

“I’m going to my room,” she murmurs, releasing my hand and closing her bedroom door.

I walk to my bedroom, slip off my coat, and change out of my suit into something more casual. It’s only five o’clock and too early for her to sleep. I don’t want her to think she is alone through this.

Knock. Knock.

Silence.

I open the door a crack. Zara is lying on her side, her back to me, with her same clothes on. I take a hesitant seat on the edge of the bed and pick up her hand, holding it firmly in mine. The tears silently cascade down her cheeks, and it fucking crushes me to see her like this.

“Can I make you something to eat?” Zara shakes her head. “Something warm to drink?”

“No, thank you,” she rasps, staring straight ahead to the window.

“Do you want me to help you change out of your clothes?” Her gaze flicks to mine, her beautiful eyes narrow. “Think what you want, but I’m not leaving you alone. It’s not the first time I’ve seen you without clothes.”

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