They said obsession to the point of manipulation, death, love that could blind one to the truth, and love that could take you to the grave as much as bring you from it were not true; that type of all-consuming love did not exist.
They lied.
Grief got easier with time; death is always final, and death is always real.
They lied.
They said the dead cannot speak from the grave either; well, in this scenario, they also lied.
Rain poured steadily over the quiet cemetery, soaking through her black trench coat, her long silky raven-black hair, and her pale skin, which felt as though needles were piercing through it. She, Miran Valemont, couldn't remember how long she had been standing there, staring at the headstone like it might suddenly change the reality she was currently living in. Like his name might disappear and take the pain with it.
But it didn't.
Kael Veyrien
Once a husband. Protector. Not the monster they claimed he was, a man whose presence became the only light in her darkness, gone as though he never existed to begin with.
She crouched down, ignoring the wet mud that clung to the side of her shoes and clothes and ran her fingers over the carved letters, her hand trembling. The cold from the stone crept up her arm, but she didn't pull away. She didn't feel the cold anymore.
Kael had always hated the cold.
She laughed softly. Bitter. Broken. "You would complain if you saw me standing out here in the rain," she whispered. "You would drag me back to the car, wrap me in that ugly gray hoodie and act like you didn't care, trying to be all stoic."
Her voice cracked under the weight of her loss, one that she would never be able to recover from, for a part of her felt responsible for the situation she found herself in today.
Once, she had everything any young woman could ask for. A rising career as a gymnast. Fame. Attention. A future, but she wanted none of it; she only did so to make something of herself.
But none of it mattered after she met him, a man who came into her life and swept her off of her feet like a storm, claiming everything in its path.
He wasn't anyone special—at least, not to the world. Kael had a rough look, a scar running across his face that made people stare or step away. He worked quiet jobs and stayed in the background. People called him dangerous. Some called him a monster, a gangster, and whatnot.
But he was the first person who ever made her feel safe without wanting anything in return, not even a dollar.
She met him during the lowest point of her life—trapped between a toxic family and the crushing pressure of being perfect. He didn't judge her. He didn't try to fix her. He just... stayed, listening to her rambling on about her life, as boring as it was.
And somehow, that was enough to make her give up everything else.
They got married a year later. No fancy wedding. No flowers or dresses. Just two broken people promising to hold each other together.
He kept that promise—until the night he died saving her.
A drunk driver. A split-second decision on the highway on a rainy night, celebrating their second anniversary as a married couple. She lived. He didn't.
And now all she had left was his name on a piece of stone and a few pictures left.
"I told you not to save me," she whispered, her hand still on the grave. "I needed you more than I needed to survive. You promised to stay by my side and now you are not here; you are not here to keep that promise."
A gust of wind blew through the trees behind her, rustling the branches. She didn't look back. She thought it was just the storm.
But it wasn't.
Someone was watching her from the shadows of the cemetery.
Hidden behind a cluster of old statues, a figure stood just out of sight—dressed in black, face mostly covered by the hood of a long trench coat. He didn't move. He didn't speak, but his gaze was so intense it could make anyone run.
He just watched her.
He had been watching her for weeks now. Waiting.
Not out of kindness.
Not out of curiosity.
But because Kael Veyrien's death wasn't the end of the story.
And her part in it... had only just begun.
She took a deep breath and stood up. Her breathing was shallow and her heart felt like it was on fire, burning in a way she could not understand, and she was not sure she wanted to either.
"You promised... You were there to protect me from them, to keep me grounded. Now that you are gone, the monsters in my life will rise again and I will not be able to escape it," She mumbled, her voice a mere whisper against the strong and cold wind, broken like a fragile glass, with no repair.
"Please, can't you come back... Can't this be a dream, husband?" She cried out as she wrapped her arms around herself, as though it could protect her from a nightmare that she once had, but now it was all too real, one that there was no changing, there was no escaping, and she was trapped.
The pain in her heart felt like it would consume her, too much for her to bear; tears streamed down her pale and flushed cheeks under the stormy night sky as though they were never-ending, as though the agony she felt was some sort of plan.
Her breath hitched as her chest tightened. She knew she had to get up, to make a move before the feeling swirling in her chest consumed her entirely, but the hope, the fire that she once had, she could feel it being slowly extinguished under the rain as though that was how it was meant to be.
She took a deep breath and stood up, her steps faltering. However, she managed to hold herself up, her gaze still fixed on his grave, his memories flashing in her eyes as though he was still there, holding her, whispering soft words to her under a stormy night, as he did under the moonlight of their wedding, a day on which she felt the most happiness she had in years.
While she was lost in her thoughts, the hair on her hand stood on end, and she felt as though she was being watched. Her brows furrowed, though she paid no attention to it, thinking it was just her imagination.
Little did she know, this was just the beginning, because some debts aren't buried with the dead.
And some love stories don't end in death—they begin with it.