Page 23 of My Ghost

She’s fine, apparently better than fine.

And I’m stuck here, wondering how the hell I ended up being the one spiraling into madness.I barely hear what D says to me, and when I nod, it’s automatic.My mind keeps pulling back to her, to that night at the gala.To the way her eyes lit up when her soft lips brushed against mine in a heart-stopping kiss.

And now she’s laughing at someone else’s joke, ignoring me completely.Shutting me out, not even looking at me.Not during dinner, not when the conversation gets loud and banter flies back and forth.Not even when she says goodbye with warm hugs for the others, a soft laugh at a joke Luc throws her way, a wave of her hand for D.

And nothing for me.

She doesn’t falter, doesn’t hesitate.She just walks out like I’m invisible.And maybe that’s what I deserve.

I sit in my car afterward, fingers gripping the steering wheel while I stare through the windshield with my mind blank and my heart pounding too loud and too fast.

What did you expect, asshole?

You told her no, you pushed her away.You drew the line and made sure she would never try to cross it again.And she listened, she walked away.That’s what you wanted.Right?

Then why the fuck does it feel like she reached into my chest and took something with her?

* * * *

On Sunday brunch she’s already there when I arrive.She’s sitting on the arm of the sofa, laughing brightly at something Chiara says.Sunlight streams through the high windows and catches the golden strands of her hair.Her cheeks are slightly flushed, and with that blue dress hugging her curves, she looks like something my feverish mind dreamed up.

And again, she doesn’t look at me.

It’s not cold or cruel, it’s worse than that.It’s indifferent.

I grit my teeth through brunch, barely tasting the coffee in my cup, and I ignore the knowing glances Luc shoots me.I don’t want to hear whatever he’s thinking.

But I can’t go on like this, I need fucking answers.

As soon as she steps away from the table, I follow quietly.She’s standing alone on the back patio, tapping something on her phone.I step closer, heart hammering harder than I’d like to admit.

“Erin.”

She turns.Her eyes widen in surprise, but then her face shutters and she smiles politely.

“Matteo,” she replies with a detached tone.

“I wanted to talk.”

Her smile holds, but her eyes cool a fraction.“There’s nothing to say.”

I step closer, drop my voice.“I think there is.I’d like to apologize—”

“You were very clear,” she cuts in, the tone still light, almost airy.“No complications, no mess.And you were right, I’m not looking for that either.”

“That’s not what I—”

“Iagreeto agree with you,” she cuts in again, slipping her phone into her dress pocket, then she finally looks up at me with a sweet smile.“Let’s not make it awkward.”

Then she brushes past me to return inside and all I’m left with is a silence that roars louder than any scream she could have thrown my way.

Just when I am about to grab the furniture sitting on the deck and hurl it over the railing, Luc strolls out and silently hands me a tumbler.I nod without looking at him and step to the edge of the deck to lean my elbows on the handrail.He steps beside me to do the same, his gaze following mine out to the garden.

I take a sip, welcoming the burn as the whiskey slides down my throat.

“Teo…” he starts tentatively.

“Don’t,” I growl.But I know the fucker never gives up, so I brace for it.