Chapter 53

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Ophelia's POV

I feel like I'm on cloud nine.

Everything seems so surreal to me. I feel like I'm living in this perfect fantasy right now, like everything is this perfect dream, and I'm hoping, just praying, that it stays like this forever.

Going down to the cemetery was such a huge step for Harry. I was so proud of him the whole way there and especially when we stood outside, letting him compose himself before we ventured in further. I know he was a little hesitant at first, but I also know that it was a much needed step for him.

To move on, to get better.

I knew where he was buried, I had gotten all that information from Ava and my mom before we got to Boston. I wanted to make sure that he got a full day of just being around Zayn and taking as much time as he wanted there before we did anything else, it was the whole reason we came here in the first place.

I also knew it was a risk going to the cemetery. There was no saying who else might have been there, we could have easily run into Zayn's family. But that was a risk I was willing to let Harry take because I needed him to see Zayn.

He needed this.

It was so obvious which headstone was Zayn's as we entered. It was beautiful, glowing, and bright, everything I know Zayn was. I wanted to leave Harry alone and give him some time to see Zayn by himself, but with the way he begged me to stay with him I just couldn't do that.

He was still learning to cope with losing Zayn and I understood that, he wanted me by his side because he knew I had experienced death just like this before. I was willing to do anything for Harry, even if that meant I sat by his side silently while he cried.

When he started talking to him, I began to lose it. His words to Zayn were so pure, it was short and to the point but I know he got everything out he wanted to say to him. I could tell he was having a hard time, but there was nothing I could do but be there for him.

It's so hard to see the people you love in pain. I felt like I could almost feel his exact pain as he was speaking, choking on the words he so desperately wanted to let out. It reminded me of when I did this with my dad, sitting, kneeling at his grave, pouring my heart out into the open, hoping he heard even just a sliver of what I said.

It fucking hurts.

He didn't want to cry, that was obvious from the way he was choking back his tears, but I'm glad he eventually did. I think that was an important part of his healing process. This time, they weren't tears of denial or guilt. They were tears of acceptance, processing that he was gone and I can only hope that Harry felt at peace after he talked to him.

I took our time there as an opportunity to talk to Zayn too. I know I already got to see him once when I visited him at the hospital, but the circumstances then were so different. I was heartbroken and my words were more for Harry, wanting to tell him things Harry always wanted to say to him. But now Harry finally got to do just that.

This time, we sat around his grave and made some silly jokes, keeping the talk very light, and it only made me miss someone I didn't even know.

I wish I did.

The last thing we were expecting yesterday was to see Ava. She knew we were here already but we weren't supposed to see her until today, when she would tell her parents that she was gone to a friend's house.

I wasn't sure how she had reached the cemetery until I looked behind her, immediately noticing the two figures looming in the distance. I knew right away who they were, the resemblance between all of them was uncanny.

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