Chapter 178 Goodbye

Chapter 178 Goodbye
Diya's POV

The first sound I heard was the soft scrape of soil against the wooden coffin.

I think that was when it finally became real.

Mike was gone.

The thought had been following me for days, but somehow, standing there beneath the grey afternoon sky and watching the earth slowly cover the coffin that held his body, the reality of it finally settled somewhere deep inside me.

He was never coming back.

The breeze moved gently through the trees surrounding the cemetery, carrying the faint scent of damp earth and the flowers that had been placed around the grave. Everything was strangely peaceful.

Too peaceful.

How could the world look so normal when someone had just lost his life?

I stood beside Pete, my fingers intertwined with Shantel's. She hadn't said much since we arrived.

I didn't blame her.

What could she possibly say?

The man being buried beneath our feet wasn't just Pete's best friend.

He was her fiancé. Her future husband. The man she had expected to grow old with.

And somehow, I couldn't stop thinking that she had lost him because of me.

My chest tightened.

I squeezed her hand, but she didn't react. Her eyes were fixed on the coffin and her face completely drained of color.

I looked at her and felt another wave of guilt wash over me.

Shantel had stood beside me through everything.

When my life had fallen apart, she had been there. When I had been confused, frightened and alone, she had been there. When I needed someone to remind me that I wasn't completely alone in this world, she had been there.

And now, because of everything that had happened around me, she was standing at the grave of the man she loved.

I swallowed hard.

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

Her fingers tightened around mine.

She finally looked at me.

For a moment, I thought she was going to say something. Instead, she simply shook her head.

A tear slipped down her cheek.

I didn't need her to forgive me. I didn't even know if there was anything to forgive. But I needed her to know that I was sorry.

So terribly sorry.

Beside me, Pete hadn't moved.

He had been standing there since we arrived, dressed in black, his face unreadable and his hands clasped behind his back.

Anyone looking at him from a distance would have seen the Alpha. The powerful man everyone respected. The man who had spent the past few days tearing through territories, confronting enemies and putting an end to the nightmare that had nearly destroyed his family.

But I knew better now.

I could see the slight tension in his jaw. The way his fingers occasionally tightened behind his back. The way his eyes remained fixed on the coffin as though looking away would somehow make this more real.

This wasn't the Alpha everyone feared. This wasn't the man who had ordered guards around his family or walked into a room and made everyone fall silent.

This was simply Pete.

A man burying his best friend.

And for the first time, I understood that there were some kinds of pain even an Alpha couldn't command into submission.

My eyes returned to the coffin.

Mike.

I remembered the first time I met him.

It was at my company. Pete had come looking for the cure, angry and impatient, carrying himself like the entire world owed him an answer. I had been expecting another arrogant man who would look down on me because of who he was.

But Mike had been different.

He spoke to me calmly. He had listened. When Pete became impatient, Mike had been the one to rein him in.

He had apologized for Pete without making excuses for him. At the time, I hadn't understood how unusual that was.

Now I did.

Mike had always been the person standing between Pete and the worst parts of himself. He had been his balance, his conscience and his brother in every way that mattered.

I remembered how he used to tease Pete whenever Pete became too arrogant. I remembered the way he would shake his head whenever Pete started giving orders nobody had asked for. And I remembered one particular afternoon when I had been sitting with Matt while Pete was arguing with Mike about something neither of them would later remember.

Mike had looked at me and sighed.

"Don't worry about Pete," he'd said.

I had raised an eyebrow.

"That's a difficult thing to say."

He'd laughed.

"He's an idiot, but he's our idiot."

I laughed then. So had Pete.

I hadn't known that memory would one day hurt this much.

I closed my eyes for a moment.

Mike had become family without me even realizing it. He had made sure Matt was safe. He had made him laugh. He had stood between danger and the people Pete loved without ever asking for anything in return.

And when the moment came when his life was on the line, he had done exactly what he had always done.

He had protected them.

He had protected us.

I looked at Pete.

A tear was slowly sliding down his cheek and he didn't wipe it away.

My heart broke.

Pete had cried before. I knew that.
But there was something different about seeing him cry for Mike.

There was no shame in it. No attempt to hide. Just grief…Pure and devastating.

The priestess's voice continued somewhere behind us, but I barely heard the words. Eventually, the ceremony came to an end.

One by one, people began moving away from the grave.

Mike's father remained beside his wife. His mother hadn't stopped crying.

When she finally stepped toward the coffin, two people had to steady her.

She reached out with a trembling hand and touched the flowers resting above it.

"My son..."

Her voice broke.

That was all she managed to say.

Just two words.

But they were enough to shatter whatever composure remained in the people standing around her.

She bent forward, sobbing and Pete looked away. His shoulders rose with a deep breath. Then it slowly fell.

I reached for his hand.

He didn't look at me. But he allowed me to hold it.

Mike's parents eventually walked away and Shantel followed them, still silent.

Matt was with one of the guards a short distance away, watching everything with the confused expression of a child who didn't completely understand why everyone was crying.

Soon, there was no one left.

Except Pete and me.

Pete released my hand.

"I'll be a minute."

I nodded.

He walked toward the grave, then he stopped. For several seconds, he simply stood there.

Finally, he lowered himself onto one knee and his hand moved over the flowers.

"You were supposed to grow old with me, you bastard."

His voice broke.

I covered my mouth.

Pete gave a quiet, broken laugh.

"We were supposed to become old men together."

He shook his head.

"You were supposed to complain about your knees while I complained about how annoying you were."

A tear fell from his chin.

"And we were supposed to argue about whose children were more troublesome."

He swallowed.

"You would have said mine."

Another small laugh escaped him.

"Because you always took my side when you wanted something."

He looked down at the grave. The smile disappeared.

"You kept your promise, Mike."

His voice became softer.

"You said you'd always have my back."

He placed a hand against his chest.

"You did."

His eyes closed.

"You just weren't supposed to give me your life for it."

I felt tears burning my own eyes.

Pete lowered his head.

"I don't know how I'm supposed to do this without you."

The confession was barely audible.

"You were always there."

He took a shaky breath.

"Every time I screwed up. Every time I made a stupid decision. Every time I thought I could handle everything myself."

His fingers curled into the grass beside the grave.

"You were there."

He looked at the coffin one final time.

"I'll carry you with me."

He slowly stood.

"And I'll make sure Matt knows who you were."

His voice trembled.

"He'll know that the man who protected him wasn't just my best friend."

He wiped his face.

"He was family."

Pete remained there for another few moments. Then he turned and walked toward me.

I looked at him, and wondered how much a person could change in such a short time.

When I first met Pete, I had thought he was an arrogant, spoiled egomaniac who believed his position gave him the right to treat people however he pleased.

And, if I was being completely honest, I hated him.

He had tricked me because of a stupid bet. He had gotten me pregnant and then walked away from me. He had hurt me in ways I hadn't known how to explain.

But that man wasn't standing in front of me anymore.

He was still Pete.

Still stubborn.

Still difficult.

Still capable of driving me completely insane.

But he was different.

The man who had once thought strength meant never admitting weakness had learned how to break. The man who had once believed he had to carry everything alone had learned how to reach for someone. The man who had spent so much of his life trying to control everything around him had finally learned that some things couldn't be controlled.

They could only be faced.

He stopped in front of me.

"How is Shantel?"

I looked toward where she had disappeared with Mike's parents.

"She'll be okay."

I sighed.

"Eventually."

Pete looked toward the grave.

"She's strong."

"She is."

I hesitated.

"But being strong doesn't mean it doesn't hurt."

He nodded slowly.

"I know."

For a moment, neither of us spoke.

Then I reached for his hand.

"You don't have to pretend you're okay."

He looked at me.

"I'm not.”

The honesty in those two words hurt more than any attempt to comfort me could have. Somehow, knowing he wasn't pretending made it easier to stay beside him.

The world had finally slowed down.

For the first time in days, there wasn't a crisis waiting for us. There wasn't someone missing. There wasn't an enemy waiting around the corner. There wasn't another phone call I was terrified to answer.

There was simply silence.

"He would have hated this funeral."

A small smile touched my lips.

"Why?"

"Too much crying."

I laughed softly.

Pete finally looked at me.

"He'd probably complain that everyone was making him look sentimental."

I stepped beside him.

"Would he?"

"Definitely."

Pete looked toward the sun.

"He'd probably say I looked terrible in black."

I smiled.

"He sounds like someone who would."

"He was."

Silence settled between us again. This time, it wasn't uncomfortable.

Pete reached for my hand and I let him take it.

I squeezed his hand.

"You don't have to carry everyone alone anymore."

His eyes softened.

"I know."

He lifted our joined hands and pressed his lips against my knuckles.

"I have you now."

My eyes filled with tears.

Before I could answer, a small voice came from behind us.

"Daddy."

Pete's entire expression changed. For all the grief he was carrying, there was still one person who could pull him back into the present with a single word.

Pete turned and Matt was standing a few feet away. His little face was still solemn.

He immediately crouched and Matt ran into his arms. Pete held him tightly, burying his face against his son's shoulder.

I watched them and something inside me finally loosened.

For everything we had lost, we still had this.

A family.

A future.

A reason to keep moving.

Pete eventually stood with Matt in his arms.

He looked at me.

"Let's go home."

I smiled through my tears.

"Okay."

His fingers tightened around mine as we headed back home.

Somewhere beneath that same sun, Mike was finally at peace.

We would carry him with us….not as the man we lost, but as the man who had given us the chance to keep living.

Pete looked down at our joined hands. Then toward the house and then back at me.

For the first time in what felt like forever, there was no enemy waiting around the corner.

No threat.

No secrets.

Just us.

And maybe that was what Mike had wanted all along.

For us to live.

So we did.

Together.