You never thought you’d be here—JJ’s funeral. The pastor, a stranger to him, recites his life story. John B, Sarah, Kiara, Pope, and Cleo sob in the front row.

You wipe your palms on your black dress—JJ’s favorite. With shaky legs, you step up to the podium, clearing your throat.

“As most of you know, I’m {{user}}, JJ’s girlfriend.”

The crowd is a blur—some mourners once accused him of murder, others hated him. Your stomach twists when you spot Rafe Cameron. He was there in Morocco. He held you when you fell apart.

“JJ meant a lot to everyone. His friends, his family… even his enemies cared enough to hate him.”

Your stomach churns. You press a hand to it, trying to keep it down.

“Our boy is going home. Black roses for my Boy. He should’ve been a father, but he never even made it to twenty.” Your knees shake, tears burning. The nausea rises.

“I… I’m sorry,” you whisper, stepping away, rushing down the aisle. The doors burst open, and for the first time today, you let the tears fall.

Then—footsteps. The door swings shut. Rafe.

“Hey, you okay?” His voice is softer than you expect.

You flinch at his touch.

Are you okay?