Then silence fell between us again, just for a moment. But I didn’t want silence. I wanted us to talk. I needed answers.
“This place is creepy at night,” I uttered casually, as if this was really what I wanted to talk about. “You can hold me if you get scared.”
His head turned slightly, like he wasn’t sure if it was a joke or a test, and the sheer thought of his fiery eyes on me made my skin burn. “I’ll…keep that in mind, Elizabeth.”
My name on his lips made heat curl at the depth of my stomach. I missed it. I missed the sound of his voice so much.
I pointed towards an abandoned house down the street. It was the most badly-looking-in-shape house amongst the rest. One side of the wall had fallen completely and melted into the earth.
“They said that one is haunted,” I whispered.
He followed my gaze. “Haunted?” A hint of amusement touched his voice. “Is it?”
“I suppose.” I shrugged, getting a gentle shiver from the stories I had been told about the families who died there after having dinner.
Apparently, a wall gecko fell into their pot in the kitchen, releasing its poison into the soup. They didn’t know. And by the time they knew they were consuming not just soup, but vermin from a common wall gecko, it was too late.
I always hastened my steps whenever I was passing that house. I believed in the existence of the extraterrestrial. And ghosts scared me a lot.
“If anything comes crawling, hold me.”
Something like a laugh ghosted through his chest. But it faded quickly, swallowed by the silence that returned, heavier this time, pressing into the invisible space between us.
“I’m…sorry.”
The way he said it made something weak flutter in my chest. Not because it fixed anything. But because the words hurt to hear.
I stared at the cracked pavement, kicking at pebbles the night had buried. “But you remember what I said that day, right?”
My question made him stiffen beside me. “Yes,” he replied, softly.
“So what happened this time?” I lifted my gaze, but he wasn’t looking in my direction, rather, at my house across from us where a woman was standing by the kitchen window, staring.
Mother wasn’t sleeping.
He inhaled a slow and sharp breath. “Something came up.”
There he went again. Something came up. Was this how it would always be? Something coming up that would make him disappear for another decade?
“What came up?” I asked, the night hanging between us like a veil.
His gaze dropped, jaw tightening as his fist clenched and then released. “I can’t explain,” he said finally.
I nodded slowly, like I understood, but really, I didn’t. I didn’t understand what it was that simply couldn’t be explained. And that reply hurt more than the days of waiting.
“Okay,” I whispered.
“It’s not okay, Elizabeth,” he countered. “I know it wasn’t right. I know I should have–”
“But you didn’t.” My voice didn’t shake. But my chest did. “The worst part right now is that you can’t even promise that it won’t happen again. If you can’t explain it, that means you haven’t figured out how to fix it. And if you can’t fix it, it’s goingto keep happening. You’re going to keep disappearing like this. And that’s what I said I didn’t want, Callan.”
The silence that followed was the answer.
He had nothing to say. Nothing to give me. Nothing he could promise.
My throat tightened and I looked away, blinking fast at the blur of shadows. He shouldn’t have come at all. He shouldn’t have reminded me what it felt like to be in his presence, consumed by the embers of his fire.
He should have remained gone. I was already forgetting what his warmth felt like. Eventually, I would’ve forgotten completely. And I would have moved on with time.
