Epilogue
ETHAN
*Three months after prom*
The weather was bleak today. Dark gray clouds hovered over the sun. Everything felt gloomy and gray and . . . dull. Like sunshine was missing.
I chuckled weakly, shaking my head, and rolled up from my cold, empty bed. It was ironic how my sunshine was also missing.
Like a jolt, my brain yelled at me, scolded me to stop it. Stop thinking about her.
Closing my eyes, I controlled my anger and when I opened my eyes, my cheeks were stained with tears. A rush of emotions surged through my body and I didn't know what to feel. It was hard to even breathe when she, my oxygen, wasn't with me. By my side.
If she were still here, she would be grinning at me, dimples poking her cheeks and pulling me back to bed just for five more minutes, which would turn to an hour. But she isn’t here. She’s gone.
"Ethan!"
A knock came from my door, making my heart jump. Is that her? Did she knock on the door? She'll be disappointed because my room wasn't organized as before, and I had removed our pictures because it hurt too much.
"Honey, are you awake?" And just like that, everything crumbled down to pieces.
Why do I do this to myself? She was not going to come back.
I opened the door after clearing my thoughts and wiping the tears. "Morning, Ma." I tried to smile but failed miserably.
Her wide, lovely brown eyes drowned into an emotion I’d been getting the last three months; sympathy. I fucking hated it. I wanted to scream.
“Love, you didn't sleep? This is not good for you.”
My hoarse voice hardened. "I don't care. I can't sleep. I'll be ready in ten. Can't miss the flight." I shut the door before she could say anything.
Swallowing the lump, I sighed and walked into the bathroom, ignoring my miserable dull face.
I looked at the empty shelves where she used to keep her coconut body wash and shampoos.
My unused razor she always used and flaunted her legs to me when she did, begging me to feel her baby soft skin.
How I used to brush my hands on them and tickle the soles of her feet making her laugh—
Shit. Making her laugh was one of the best things I ever did. Why did she do it, then? Why did she leave me?
Growling, I punched the mirror, which broke into several pieces like a web of a spider under my fist as throbbing pain stung my knuckles. I took a deep breath, counted to ten, and finally opened my eyes, looking at my broken reflection.
Shaking my head, I wiped the stray tear with my bloodied hand and took a quick shower. She's not going to come back.
* * *
"Is Eve coming with us?" I asked, keeping my empty plate in the sink.
Mom smiled. "Yeah, she's still asleep, but you can kiss her goodbye."
I nodded, picking up my suitcases and luggage, placing them outside the apartment. My mothers walked out, locking the door and cradling sleeping Eveline.
I walked past the locked door of her home and looked away, clenching my fist and jaw. After reaching the parking lot, I packed all of my luggage in the car when Ma appeared beside me, keeping my duffle bag in the car.
"You know she won't come back, right? She can't come back."
"Yes."
I heard her sigh. "Then you have to move on. She's gone."
My voice broke. "I . . . I can't, Ma. When she—”
"Um, hey, Ethan."
I froze hearing that voice and every vein in my body scorched with anger when I looked over Ma's shoulder, meeting his gray eyes.
I felt Ma squeeze my hand. "Go and talk to him."
She walked around and sat in the driver's seat, leaving me alone to deal with him.
"What are you doing here?"
"Nice to see you too," Liam said sarcastically and handed me a paper bag.
I furrowed my eyebrows. "What's this?"
Liam sighed. "Just . . . something Kiara entrusted me with."
Hearing her name from his lips made my blood boil. "What the fuck did you just say?"
"Look, Ethan, I know you hate me, but just read that, okay?"
I peered into the bag and took out the black diary.
My heart pounded in my ears. It's hers. Flashes of her scribbling inside this diary flickered in my mind.
How she would whine every time her strands of hair fell on her face and she would bunch them in a bun and start scribbling again.
And when I tried to take a look at what she was writing, she would angrily push my face away.
"She gave it to me."
I could feel a painful throb in my heart. "When?"
His shoulders slumped like he was physically tired. "It mailed to my house with a letter to give it to you without opening it." He looked up and whispered, "Before . . . before she was gone."
I shook my head. "This doesn't make any sense."
"I don't know, okay? It's hers and she wanted you to read it." He added carefully, "But it's up to you if you want to."
I looked down at her black leather diary. Her name was written in the center in a white scribble like she was in a hurry. There was a loop in the second 'a' of her name. I felt so much and nothing.
Liam said, “Kiara would want you to read and let you know why she did what she did. I loved her too, you know?”
I clenched my jaw and nodded. “I know,” I said in a small voice. “So do I. So did everyone. Then why did she—”
Liam clasped a hand on my shoulder. “Kiara was a troubled person, Ethan. She had lots of secrets she didn’t want to share. Writing them down was her escape. She gave this to you because she trusts you.” He took a deep breath. “I’ll leave you to it. Take care, man.”
He walked away without saying anything else, his hands in his pockets.
* * *
I took a sharp breath, sitting down in the window seat surrounded by buzzing people. I felt the weight of Kiara's diary on my lap. I was contemplating whether I should start reading this, burn it away, throw it away, or hide it somewhere where no one could find it.
But of course, I didn't have the heart to do either of those things to Kiara's most precious thing. And I knew I'd get bored in almost five hours of flight to New York.
So, when an old granny sat beside me going through her Playboy magazine, I decided I should read the diary. I removed the black elastic from the wooden button that was holding the diary in place and opened the very first page.
It was a letter. To me. From her.
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DON’T DATE YOUR EX BEST FRIEND: He is her ex-best-friend. She is his ex-girlfriend. Will they survive living under one roof?
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“I am asking you to marry me.”
“Are you asking or ordering, Sultan?”
“I am asking, Princess.” I smiled at her.
“For now.”
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