Page 76 of Ghost Of You
When we finally break the kiss, she opens her eyes, gazing deeply into mine. "I love the taste of your lips on mine," she murmurs.
I grin, feeling the warmth of her words. "The only problem is, if I kiss you again, I don't think I'll be able to stop," I admit, a playful tone in my voice.
She giggles, her eyes sparkling with happiness, and I lose myself in them, completely absorbed in the moment until something catches my eye. I glance to the side and notice a woman, likely in her late fifties, watching us. Her brows are furrowed slightly, her mouth parted as if in surprise, but as soon as our eyes meet, she quickly turns and walks away, leaving me alone with Laelia in this perfect moment.
After an hour of strolling through the park, basking in the warm sunlight, Laelia suggests we head to the top of the hill that overlooks our quaint town—a spot we cherish for its breathtaking view. The only way to reach it, though, is by passing through the old cemetery.
As I push open the small black gate, a shiver runs down my spine, and an eerie feeling washes over me, as if unseen eyes are watching. I'm aware of the presence of death all around, but there's something different this time—something feels unsettlingly off.
I hold the gate open for Laelia, and she steps through with a smile, her expression light and carefree. As the gate creaks shut behind us, we begin our slow walk along the narrow pavement, passing rows of headstones. Flowers lie at the foot of many, invarious stages of life—some fresh and blooming, others wilting, and a few already withered.
Despite the bright sun overhead, the graveyard feels deserted, with no one else in sight. Yet, an unsettling sensation gnaws at me, as if the unseen eyes are watching from the shadows. I glance around trying to shake the feeling.
"Everything okay?" Laelia's voice pulls me back, and I turn to meet her gaze.
"Yeah," I reply, forcing a weak smile. "I just have this strange feeling like we're being watched."
"Oh," she murmurs, her brow furrowing slightly before she looks away.
We continue walking, and I do my best to brush off the lingering unease, focusing instead on the warmth of the sun and the beauty of the day.
"I can't wait to meet our little one and see the future we're going to have," I say with a smile, my thoughts drifting to the life ahead. I can already picture it—welcoming our baby into the world, watching them take their first steps, hearing their first words, and maybe even having more children. I feel like the luckiest man alive to have such a beautiful fiancée and a child on the way. Honestly, life can only get better from here.
"I couldn't wait either," Laelia replies.
Her words make me stop in my tracks. I turn to face her, taking in her appearance. The usual sparkle in her eyes has dimmed, and the radiant energy that always surrounds her seems to have faded, leaving behind someone who looks hollow, almost vacant.
"You mean can't, right?" I ask, my voice tinged with unease.
The way she looks at me sends a chill down my spine, making the hairs on the back of my neck rise. Something is off, and whatever she's about to say, I have a feeling I won't like.
"I mean couldn't," she says, her voice hesitant, almost regretful.
I blink rapidly, staring at her in disbelief. My mind races, struggling to make sense of her words. A creeping dread begins to take hold, but before I can respond, she speaks again.
"Remember, Killian," she says, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's time you remember."
"Remember what?" I ask, my voice shaky as confusion and fear swirl within me.
She sighs a deep, sorrowful sound that echoes in the emptiness around us. "The accident, Killian. Remember the accident."
Her words hit me like a bolt of lightning, and suddenly, it all comes flooding back. The memories I had buried deep within me, the ones I have refused to face—they surge forward, overwhelming me with their intensity.
Tears well up in my eyes as I look at her, finally understanding. "Laelia…" I whisper, my voice breaking.
Chapter forty-two
3rd May 2023
Sitting around the table in the fanciest Indian restaurant in town, I take in my surroundings: white tablecloths draped over each table, cutlery arranged neatly atop crisp napkins. Six large windows line one wall, letting in a gentle glow, while the rest of the room is adorned with tasteful wallpaper and elegant decorations.
The tantalising aroma of spices wafts through the air, mixing with the sizzle and crackles of dishes being served to nearby tables. My stomach growls with anticipation' I've spent the entire day deliberately starving myself to make room for tonight's feast. After all, we're indulging in a three-course meal with the option—more like a requirement for me—of dessert.
For starters, we have poppadoms with a vibrant chutney tray. I've chosen onion bhajis for my starter, and for my main course, it's chicken Rogan Josh, boiled rice, and a Peshwari naan. Laelia, on the other hand, keeps things simple with her Indian food preferences. She sticks to a chicken tikka starter and a chicken Korma with boiled rice—a bit too mild for my adventurous taste buds.
This restaurant feels like a second home to me. It's our go-to spot for special occasions and Christmas Eve dinners, a tradition I've cherished since childhood. Saturdays were always reserved for Indian takeout, and over the years, I've sampled nearly the entire menu, excluding the notorious Phal and Sondia—two of the hottest curries on offer. My mum, on the other hand, loves to test her limits with fiery dishes. I once took her up on a dare to dip a chip into the Phal and paid dearly. The experience was nothing short of volcanic, and the memory of my desperate attempts to cool my mouth with endless milk still makes me shudder. No amount of money would convince me to try it again. I'd rather eat a donkey's testicle than dip my chip into hot curry again.
As time passed, our Saturday nights expanded to include Ethan after his parents' passing. We began exploring various cuisines, ensuring that no weekend was ever the same. Whether we ended up sick from bad food or simply didn't enjoy a dish, every experience was an adventure. Yet, Indian cuisine will always hold a special place in my heart.