The Infatuated Lover {COMPLETED} ✓

48 ~ Remembering To Forget You

“You’re always the first and the last thing on this heart of mine. No matter where I go, or what I do, I’m thinking of you.” – Dierks Bentley
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NICCOLE'S POV

On the day of the burial, I slowly walk up the stage, with Bonnie's hand in mine, the moment I'm called on to give my speech. The place is ardorned in white and pink flowers just as Alex had prescribed, and I was wearing a transparent dress, the way he'd wanted. And it was glorious. Beautiful even. Just as he'd said it would be. He'd personally sent me the dress he'd wanted me to wear just two days ago. I still don't know how he was able to have guessed my measurements.

For today, I'd decided to place my hair in an elegantly done updo as well, to match my dress.

"It is with great sadness that I stand up her today, to mourn the loss of my sister. For those of you who don’t know me, my name is Niccole Zemira. I am Narlia's younger sister. I still can't believe it was just two weeks ago when I heard the devastating news that my sister had passed away. Narlia had so much life left to live, so many reasons to live for.
Narlia was more than my sister; she was my closest friend. We spent countless hours together as children. We shared a bedroom for many years and even though at times it caused disagreements, it was a wonderful memory of mine. My sister and I would play games, give each other makeovers and stay up late into the night chatting. Narlia was also a very compassionate person. She cared a lot for her friends and family and would do anything to help them. She was one of the most loving and caring people that I have ever met. Narlia will always be remembered for her positive attitude, compassion, generosity and love for life. I am honored that Narlia was my sister and will look back on our time together with fond memories. I'll always remember you and the time we spent together. Your memory will live on in my heart forever. I lost someone with whom I shared many things — love, of course, more love than I can say. And mutual admiration for each other. Stories so horrible only family can see the humor in them. We shared our hidden fears. And one Halloween, decades ago, we shared the same tube of green face paint — Jesse a radical ninja turtle and me a wicked witch. I’ve lost a part of myself. I never knew how big a part until it was excised, leaving a wound that stretches from the middle of my rib cage to the bottom of my gut. Narlia built up her own walls. How else are you supposed to protect a heart that — no matter how broad your shoulders grow — is too big for your own chest? A heart that returned hurt with twice as much love? From inside her fort, I don’t know if Narlia could see how much she was loved. But I know that Narlia loved. My sister loved more than any of us asked for or earned. Inside of her was gentleness, and talent, and goodness that lit up her dark brown eyes even in her own darkest moments. So I will mourn all the times I won’t be able to tell Narlia I love her. And I will grieve the concerts, the films, the wedding, and the births at which I will not play the beaming small sister.  I will wear Narlia's name etched across my heart as a reminder of the love I was lucky to receive from her. That is how I will remember, honor, and love my older sister."

When I was done with my speech, I got down and went back to my seat. The rest of the burial passed in sort of a blur, but finally, she was laid to rest in the ground.

A few minutes after people had started dispersing after giving me their condolences, I turned my head back, because of the voices and commotion I'd heard coming from behind me. And what I saw almost left me cold, bereft, and very very angry.

Quillon and Alex were fighting and clawing their way at each other like crazed human beings! Some persons had even got out their phones to take pictures and record the fight. I mean it wasn't as if it was everyday you saw a billionaire in a fist fight.

Betrayed. That was how I felt. This was my sister's funeral. They couldn't even wait to get somewhere else first, so we could all explain ourselves or discuss this like civilized people. No this wasn't even about me. They weren't fighting because of me, nor to protect me or defend my honour. They were fighting because they wanted to. Because of their bruised prides and egos that simply couldn't wait until after a funeral, to abait themselves.

♣AUTHOR'S NOTE♣

HEY GUYS!...♥😍😘😜🙈

so I was able to drop a new chapter of HIS BOSS' WIFE (HBW)

Pardon any typo errors, this is the first draft, I won't have the time to edit yet, until I'm done with the novel. But if you see anyone you can kindly point them out to me, in the comment section. It would be immensely appreciated.

I've decided to be updating HBW every weekend. So a chapter every week, or 2 chapters if I'm feeling up to it, or wasn't so busy that week...

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