Page 49 of Twisted Truths
We’re here to say goodbye to his sister, and I’m thinking about a kiss that should never have happened. About the way his hands trembled as he held me, the way his voice cracked when he said my name like it meant something.
I press the tissues harder to my eyes, as if I can wipe away the memory as well as the tears.
Gabriel shifts next to me, and the guilt intensifies, twisting tight around my ribs. I cannot be thinking of Nash in that way when I now belong to another man. Sure, I’m only Gabriel’s Chosen by name—he made it clear he has no feelings for me besides those of a protective older brother, and I certainly don’t see him romantically—yet it feels wrong to fantasize about feeling Nash’s strong, beautiful lips pressed to mine.
My cheeks heat. This isn’t about me. This is about Zara. About Nash’s family, and everything he has lost.
I force my gaze forward, locking it on the row of caskets. The undeniable finality of it all.
Movement at the front of the church catches my eye as Nash stands, unsteady on his feet. The air in my lungs stutters, panic catching me off guard. I brace my hands against the pew in front of me.Stay seated, I tell myself.Stay calm. Yet my body leans forward like it might be possible to reach him across the distance.
My heart beats in double time as he slowly climbs the steps to the altar, making his way to the lectern. His throat bobs as he looks out over the crowd that has gathered to farewell his family.
I stop breathing when his heavy gaze locks on mine.
Something passes between us, raw and electric. A tether stretched tight and fraying at the edges.
Gabriel tenses beside me, and I feel the weight of him watching me. He knows, even without me saying a word. Asmuch as it terrifies me, I cannot tear my gaze away from Nash, drinking him in as if he’s my own personal oasis in a desert.
The connection breaks the moment Nash registers Gabriel is beside me.
It’s subtle, a flicker in his expression, a shadow passing through his eyes, but it hits like a punch to the chest. His gaze cuts to Gabriel, then back to me. The look he gives me breaks me all over again. Betrayal. Confusion. Anger. But worse than anything else, hurt.
I want to screamIt’s not what you think! He won’t believe me though. He’s made it clear what he thinks about Gabriel. Seeing me here, with a man he hates and distrusts, on today of all days … I wonder if it was the right thing to do. But Zara was my friend, and I think she was Gabriel’s friend, too … and I want to say goodbye.
He looks away, and for a second, I think he will crumble and fall apart right there in front of everyone.
But then he clears his throat, the sound brittle as it echoes loudly through the microphone, and begins.
His voice wavers at first, and it doesn’t take long for the emotion to creep in. Not the kind you can fake. It’s real and raw, gripping you by the throat and not letting go. Every word is heavy, steeped in memories and pain and the kind of love that doesn’t die.
My vision blurs again. I want to hold him, take the weight from his shoulders, do something. But all I can do is sit here and listen to a heartbreak I can’t fix. The realisation slices through me like glass. I can’t fix it. I can’t bring Zara or his family back for him.
When Nash returns to his seat, I slump back in mine, feeling utterly bereft. Grieving what we could have had if I wasn’t a part of the Circle. If he didn’t see me as his enemy.
Gabriel sits still beside me, quiet and steady, like he alwaysis. Some would say he’s calculated. I would call it controlled, measured even. He only shows what he wants you to see. I should take a leaf out of his book instead of wearing my heart on my sleeve.
As much as I try not to stare at the back of Nash’s head, my eyes keep drifting to him of their own accord. Then the slideshow begins. The screen at the front of the room fills with images of Nash’s family in happier times. Zara smiles down at me, her arms wrapped around her younger brother, and I shatter all over again. She’ll never see Franklin grow up. He’ll never know her smile, her laugh, her kindness.
A thought occurs to me. Gabriel is not Franklin’s biological father, but Zara was pregnant before he announced her as his Chosen. My eyes dart around the church. Is the real father sitting here now? Is he who she was afraid of?
I don’t realise I’m shaking until Gabriel leans in close, his whisper low against my ear. “We should go.”
My brow furrows in confusion.
“My being here … it’s dangerous,” he says, glancing to the front of the church where Nash’s shoulders tremble, his head bowed rather than reliving the memories of his family. “We’ve said goodbye to Zara. Let’s not stay where we’re not wanted.”
Gabriel’s words hurt, but I know they’re true.
Despite whatever happened between me and Nash the other day, we’re not welcome here.
We slip out as quietly as we came.
Yet, as I follow Gabriel to the Circle truck, there’s a tug at my chest, like an invisible string pulling me back to the church. Back to Nash. Every step I take away from him feels wrong, like I’m moving in the opposite direction of where I’m supposed to be.
I hesitate, turning back to see people pouring out of the church, gathering on the steps. Four hearses are parked in thelong drive, the backs of them open, waiting for the caskets like gaping mouths ready to swallow what’s left of Nash’s family.
“I can’t leave him like this,” I whisper, mostly to myself.
