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DELILAH

E very inch of my body aches before I even muster up the strength to open my eyes. I already know I’m alone. I have been since Ghost left after bathing me. He thought I was asleep, and he was so gentle that I couldn’t bear the thought of losing it so I remained limp in his hold.

I must have fallen asleep while I was in the warm water because I don’t remember him dressing me and the seam of the hoodie rubs against my hip as I turn onto my back. My eyes automatically go to the window but there’s no one watching me. My hair is still damp, and I slowly blink, waiting for something to happen.

If he’s left me again, I’m not speaking to him. I don’t care if he turns back up with his arm hanging off next time, he can fuck off if he thinks he can just reappear in my life without an explanation of why he keeps on disappearing in the first place.

A car slowly drives up the private road leading to the house and I sit up like it will help me see inside of it. It’s not one I recognize, and I’ve never seen Ghost drive. He usually walks into the tree line then disappears. But the hope that it is actually him forces me up and I shuffle into the bathroom to get ready. The thick windows mute the sound of the tires over the gravel and anticipation has me rushing before he can drive away.

The soreness between my thighs makes me wince as I leave the bathroom and lean up on my toes to see the car slow to a stop beside the front door. The driver doesn’t get out and I move as fast as my body will allow me to in order to meet him at the door. I want to surprise him and, for some fucked up reason, I’m giddy at the thought of seeing him.

My hand is outstretched before I even reach the front door and I pull it open with more force than required in my eagerness. An older woman steps out of the car with a large flower arrangement in her hands, covering half of her face.

He hasn’t come back, and he’ll probably fucking disappear again. Asshole.

The woman stops in front of me and smiles widely as she says, “Morning, sweetheart. He didn’t mention how badly he messed up, but I’m guessing by your face that it was worse than our biggest arrangement?”

My smile is slow and melts away the ire at being left because he got me flowers and I actually look at them instead of searching for the sender. The large roses are beautiful and surrounded by delicate pale pink baby’s breath. The cream roses stand out even more against them and I carefully lift them from the woman’s arms. The gentleness isn’t for the flowers, it’s for Ghost’s thought. Even if I’m not the biggest fan of nature, it warms me to know that he’s thinking about me and he doesn’t know me as well as he thinks he does because I hate real flowers.

“No, s-sorry,” I stammer, still staring at the flowers. “I was just expecting someone. Thank you.”

She’s kind enough not to mention my weird behavior and I don’t move from the door as she gets back in her car. There’s a card nestled between the blooms, and I turn without looking away from it. The door clicks behind me as I walk towards the kitchen and the giddiness is back.

Setting the flowers on the table, I take the thick cardstock envelope out of the arrangement. The typed note isn’t the same font as the previous note that was left for me, and my stomach sinks as I read it.

Happy anniversary, Lilo.

I love you, baby. This is the first time in ten years that we haven’t spent the day together. I’ll make it up to you when I’m home and we’ll never skip a day for the next decades to come.

Yours.

Love, Asher x

What the fuck is wrong with me?

It’s my wedding anniversary and I’m sore because of another man. No. Not just a wedding anniversary, a ten-year wedding anniversary. I’ve been married for a fucking decade and even if I don’t remember making the vow or anything about those years it doesn’t detract from what I’ve done. What I am doing.

My skin turns cold, and I hold the card limply as I sit on the chair. The world is further away and I’m not in my body. Time slows down and I’m numb. There’s something deeply wrong inside of me. I can’t find another explanation of why I’m hurting someone who has only ever been there for me. Our mistakes from childhood aren’t enough when that Asher isn’t the man who he’s shown me to be now.

A sob erupts from my stomach and my vision blurs as I bring my arms up to cover my face. I hide from myself and cry, alone. Every instance of my fractured memories spin in a reel and I can’t make sense of any of them. The only time I feel like my feet are planted firmly are the instances I have Ghost. He’s not a figment of my imagination and I’m not crazy.

But reality is me cheating on my husband.

A husband who never remembered my birthday when we were dating, but he sent me flowers while caring for his sick mother. The promise he gave me when I woke up in the hospital in this life that doesn’t feel like mine adds to my despair.

“ I’m not a boy anymore. I’m a man now.”