Page 42 of The Ghost of Ellwood

“He didn’t want to.” Theo stood at the window, staring at the deep red and purple sky as the sun sunk below the horizon. “He asked me to run away with him. It was early October before he was to be wed, and he showed up outside my window in tears, begging me to talk. We hadn’t seen each other in a week prior to that. I was only wearing my night shirt, but he was too frantic. I put on my slippers and ran outside to him.”

Theo’s bottom lip trembled.

“He pulled me into his arms and kissed me beside the greenhouse,” he continued. “He was crying. So was I. ‘I don’t want her,’ he said, clinging onto me. ‘All I want is you. Run away with me.’ I told him no. I wouldn’t be the reason he lived a half-life.” Glassy brown eyes met mine. “So many times I’ve regretted that decision, Ben. We might not have had the perfect life, but we would’ve been together. Would’ve been happy.”

“You told him to marry her.”

“Yes. Perhaps this makes me a wicked person, but I thought I’d have more time with him. We’d be leaving for war, you see, and I knew he’d be bymyside and not hers. Adultery is not only a sin, but a crime. But so was the fact that I loved him. I had been willing to let him go after we said goodbye at the end of September. But as we stood together, kissing and crying, I knew a part of me wouldneverlet him go. I was selfish.”

“I probably would’ve been the same.”

“Would you really?” he asked. “I suppose it doesn’t matter. All notions of accepting his marriage faded away when he was actually wed. That was a very bad day. He came to me, though, and we talked it through. He said he hadn’t bedded her yet, and that made me happy, selfishly so. When I found out weeks later that hehadslept with her…well, it’s all a blur.”

“What did he do when you went missing?”

“I know what you’re doing, Ben, and I will not fall for the trick. I don’t wish to discuss my death. Is that too hard to understand?” With the rising of his voice, his body flickered in and out, like an old TV trying to find the right channel. “I’m opening myself to you, but it has to be onmyterms, Benjamin Maxwell Cross.”

I flinched at the anger in his tone.

“I’m sorry. It just fucking breaks my heart to know something horrible happened to you here andno oneeven knows about it.”

“That’s my burden to bear, not yours.”

“Let me carry itwithyou.”

“No. When I’m ready for you to know, you will.”

“Why can’t you tell me now? I mean, you’ve told me all about fucking Harvey. Why not this too?”

“Because! I can’t say the words yet. And do not talk about Harvey in such a way! Fucking was the farthest thing from what we had together, and I’ll be damned if you speak ill of him. Now leave me be.”

Theo stormed out of the kitchen, and in his anger, pictures flew off the walls.

A ghost throwing a temper tantrum.

“Hey! Stop breaking my shit.”

Plates flew out of the cabinet and smashed to the floor.

“Oh, how mature, Theodore Michael Blackwell. Don’t forget, I know your full name too, buddy.”

I drank more whiskey before refilling the glass and taking it—along with the bottle—into the living room. I sat on the couch and stared at the flat screen TV I hardly ever used. And then, just to spite the temperamental ghost who had gone invisible, I put onGhostbusters.

After finishing my drink, I poured another. More followed, until I was good and buzzed.

Theo had every right to be mad. He needed time before he talked about his death, and instead of accepting that, I’d pushed him until he’d snapped. I also shouldn’t have said that about Harvey. I guess my own jealousy had come through a little. With my newfound feelings for Theo, I didn’t like the thought of him being with someone else, much less talking about it.

I hoped he could forgive me.

I fell asleep on the couch sometime after midnight and woke the next morning with a nasty crick in my neck.

A blanket had been draped over me.

Even while mad, he’d still cared enough to make sure I didn’t freeze. The action warmed my chest and made me feel even more like an asshole for how I’d treated him the previous night.

When I pulled myself off the couch and went into the kitchen, a pot of coffee waited for me. The glass from the broken plates had been cleaned too.

Looks like I’m forgiven after all.