Sierra always knew that she would be Havriel's first love, and maybe, in some ways, his deepest.
They were young, and their love was intense—unforgettable, but fleeting.
She knew she didn’t have much time when they married, and in those moments, she felt like she was his world.
For Havriel, she was the love that broke him, the one everyone would always remember.
Even after she was gone, Sierra’s presence lingered, casting a long shadow over his life, even as he moved forward with Tiara.
From her place in the afterlife, Sierra watched Havriel live on. She saw him build a life with Tiara, raise their children, and find a kind of peace she could never give him.
And it hurt—deeply. Not because she wanted to keep him from moving on, but because she saw the way Tiara healed him in a way she never could.
She saw the love grow between them, steady and sure, a love not built on tragedy but on living.
Sierra watched as everyone still spoke her name as Havriel’s greatest love, even after all those years. People would say, "No one could ever replace Sierra," and she clung to that, even though she knew it wasn’t true.
It was her one comfort, knowing she still held that place in his heart. But as the years went on, it became harder to ignore the way his eyes softened when he looked at Tiara, the way he seemed lighter, freer, in her presence.
When Havriel died, Sierra waited for him. She longed for the moment they would be reunited, believing—hoping—that he still carried her with him as his greatest love.
But his final words shattered her: "Tiara, you are my greatest love."
It was like dying all over again. The love she thought would be eternal, the love she believed she had left behind as her legacy, was no longer the love that defined him.
She wasn’t bitter, but it broke her heart in ways she didn’t think possible.
Tiara had given him what Sierra couldn’t—a full life, a love that lasted through the years.
In the end, Sierra realized that while she had been his first, Tiara was his forever.
And that hurt more than anything.
