Page 59 of Ghost Of You
I feel a jolt of anger. “Reality? What the hell does that even mean? You think I’m living in some fantasy world?”
“Yes!” Ethan’s voice rises, a mix of anger and desperation. “You’re not dealing with what’s happening right now. You’re lost in these nightmares, and it’s affecting everything. It’s affecting us. I can’t keep going like this.”
I cross my arms, my jaw clenched. “And what about you? I’m not the only one with issues. I’m not the only one who’sstruggling. What about the secrets you’ve been keeping? The things you’re not telling me? The way you’ve been acting so strange around me?”
Ethan’s face flushes with frustration. “That’s exactly my point! We’ve been keeping secrets, and it’s tearing us apart. I’m trying to hold everything together, but it’s impossible when you’re not even here, mentally. I need you to be present, to face what’s happening. I need you to stop burying yourself from the truth.”
His words hit hard, and I can see the strain in his eyes. He’s reaching out, but it feels like he’s pushing me further away at the same time. “I’m trying, Ethan. I really am. But it’s not easy when I don’t even know what the fucks going on. You don’t understand what it’s like—”
Ethan cuts me off, his voice cracking with emotion. “And you don’t understand how hard it is for me to deal with all of this. I’m at my breaking point. I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep carrying all these secrets and uncertainties. I need to focus on getting through this too because you’re not the only one, and right now, I need some space.”
His words hang in the air, heavy and charged. There’s a long pause as the weight of what he’s said settles between us. I can see the hurt in his eyes, the exhaustion.
Toby, sensing the tension, quietly steps away to give us space. Ethan’s expression softens just slightly, though the frustration remains. He takes a deep breath, trying to regain his composure.
Ethan continues, his voice calmer but still firm. “I just need some time to figure things out. To clear my head. I can’t keep doing this if it’s just going to drag us down more.”
I nod slowly, my own emotions in turmoil. “Okay, Ethan. If that’s what you need, then... I guess we’ll take some time apart. But I hope you know I’m still here, even if we’re not seeing eye to eye right now.”
Ethan gives a small, strained nod. “I know. And I appreciate that. I just need to get my head straight.”
With that, Ethan turns and heads towards the door, his shoulders heavy with the burden of his thoughts. I watch him go, feeling a mix of relief and sorrow. The shop is still a mess, and our relationship is more strained than ever. But for now, the only thing we can do is take a step back and hope that time will bring some clarity.
Toby approaches me cautiously, his eyes full of concern. “Do you want to talk about it? Or should we just finish cleaning up?”
I shake my head, my voice low. “No, let’s just clean up. We can talk about it later. I think I just need some time to process everything.”
Toby nods understandingly and joins me in the cleanup. The shop remains in disarray, but there’s a fragile sense of calm as we work in silence, each of us lost in our own thoughts.
Chapter thirty-one
As I look around the room, it hits me that I'm in the living room, and it's pitch dark outside. The faint glow of the streetlights filtering through the curtains confirms that I must have dozed off the moment I sat down, completely neglecting the list of things I was supposed to do. I rub my hand over my face, trying to shake off the grogginess, and glance at the clock. It’s already eight-thirty.
From what I remember, Laelia isn’t coming home tonight. She's staying with a family for the next two nights to assess how well they can accommodate a child with special needs. The last time she stayed with them was just before our accident. She had told me afterwards that things went well but that the family needed a bit more one-on-one guidance before she could give them the all-clear.
I don’t know much about the child except that she’s seven years old and has a room straight out of a Disney princess movie—packed with dresses, tiaras, and posters that cover the walls. But the little girl faces challenges far greater than most. She’s paralysed from the waist down and also has a learning disability,making it difficult for her to connect with others, including her own family. Socialising doesn’t come easy to her, but Laelia is determined not to let that be a barrier. She’ll go above and beyond to ensure that this little girl gets everything she needs to live her life to the fullest.
I’m immensely proud of Laelia and everything she does. Her dedication to her work is inspiring, and I love seeing her come home with that smile—the one that says she’s made a difference, that she’s helped someone, that a family is better off because of her. It’s a smile that lights up the whole room, and knowing that she’s changed a life for the better makes me fall in love with her all over again.
Even though I want to text her, just to check in and see how everything is going, I know I shouldn’t. She’s not allowed to answer personal messages or calls while she’s working; it could interfere with her ability to focus on providing the best care possible. The rules and regulations are strict, and I get that, but it doesn’t stop me from sending a text now and then, hoping for a reply. I always miss her when she’s away, no matter how long she’s gone. She’s my everything.
Realising there’s no point in trying to be productive now, I head upstairs and crawl into bed. As I’m getting comfortable, I feel a slight movement near my feet. I look down to find Meatball, our cat, staring up at me, his eyes wide and alert as he licks his lips. He’s been my shadow lately, following me around, and surprisingly, he hasn’t gone after my ankles like he usually does. Maybe he feels guilty about something, trying to make it up to me by sparing my ankles this time around.
"Are you giving me special treatment tonight?" I ask, half-expecting no response. But Meatball blinks slowly, never breaking eye contact. Testing the waters, I pat the spot next to me, and to my surprise, he comes running over, eager for attention. I scratch behind his ears and along his back, and hestarts to settle down, curling up into a tight ball on Laelia’s pillow. He’s probably already dreaming about chasing mice.
This behaviour is so unlike him. When Laelia is away, he usually keeps his distance, only coming to me when he’s hungry—and even then, it’s just a quick visit. But now, he’s seeking me out, wanting to be close, wanting to be comforted. It’s strange, and the more I think about it, the more unsettled I become.
Shaking off the unease, I try to clear my mind. I turn over to face Laelia’s side of the bed, and something catches my eye—a faint glint in the moonlight sneaking through the gap in the curtains. I squint, leaning closer, and realise it’s her engagement ring. My heart skips a beat. Why has she left it behind again?
As far as I know, there aren’t any work-related restrictions on wearing jewellery, aside from avoiding anything too revealing in her attire. There’s no reason for her ring to be here unless she forgot it after her shower earlier. I pick it up and turn it over in my fingers, noticing the layer of dust that has settled on it. It dawns on me that it hasn’t been worn in a while, just sitting there untouched. But why would her ring be dusty if she only left it here this morning?
A sense of unease starts to creep in, but I push it aside. I move to place the ring back on the bedside table when something else catches my attention—her phone, lying next to the lamp. Why would her phone be here?
I pick it up and find that it too is covered in dust, deepening my confusion. Everything seems off—why is there dust on her phone? Why does it look like nothing has been touched for weeks?
I wipe away the dust and press the power button, but the screen remains black, except for a flashing battery symbol. It’s dead. Why would she leave her phone behind, and why is it dead? Laelia never leaves her phone. It’s practically an extension of her.
Going to plug it in, I realise that her charger is missing. The unease I’ve been trying to suppress comes rushing back. What the hell is going on?