Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
THEO
There’s a woman in my bed.
I haven’t been able to say that since I was alive. Even then, it had been years since I’d felt comfortable enough to open my home for anyone, especially those whom I had only a casual attachment to.
Kennedy’s long, red hair is fanned out against the pillow as she rests on her side. One arm peeks out from underneath the duvet and hangs over the side of the bed. She looks peaceful, as if she were meant to be here all along.
The sound of footsteps on the porch outside catches my attention.
I glance out the second-floor window but see nothing, the top of the veranda blocking my view.
But as I hover down the stairs and into the foyer, I pick up Aidan’s steady spirit in the vicinity.
I float through the door and find him waiting in the darkness.
“It’s late,” I state pointedly. “What brings you back?”
Aidan smooths the scarf that’s been tied neatly around his neck. “I wanted to check on you. Today was…a lot.”
“Yes, well, it’s about time something exciting happened around here.”
The forest is still tonight, the heavy winds from earlier having subsided. Even the creatures have settled for the night, the only sound I hear being the subtle in and out of Aidan’s breathing.
“Where’s Kennedy?” he asks, glancing through the windows.
“She’s sleeping. Upstairs.”
Aidan nods. “Probably exhausted.”
“Yes. Probably.”
There’s something hanging in the air between us. I feel the hesitation coming from him.
“Was there something else?” I ask, trying my best not to sound irritated. I know Aidan means well, but I haven’t had this much human interaction in ages, and Kennedy isn’t the only one who’s exhausted.
“Is it not enough that I wanted to make sure my friend is okay after a stressful day?”
Guilt washes over me, but I don’t let it show. “Just a temporary anomaly in an otherwise monotonous life cycle. No need for concerned citizens.” Just for good measure I add, “Though I appreciate it.”
He clears his throat. “Alright.” He steps off the porch, giving me a pitying look. “I’m here if you need anything.”
I don’t say anything, and I don’t think he expects me to. I watch his expensive-looking shoes forming footprints in the snow as he starts to walk away, but then he stops.
Another figure appears within the trees. It’s Simone, one of the witches from earlier. She’s bundled in a fluffy fur coat and tall boots, a hand-knitted hat on her head. Her eyes widen at the sight of us.
“I didn’t think anyone else would be here,” she admits, walking closer. She spies me still hovering on the porch and smiles. “I came to make sure Kennedy was settling in alright.”
Aidan looks over his shoulder at me and smirks. “Look at that. Another concerned citizen.”
I roll my eyes, chagrined. I’ve never had so many visitors in my entire afterlife, yet now that another ghost has arrived, I’m being berated with friendly consideration.
She may be what sparked the initiative, but part of me wishes it wasn’t.
Though I jest about wanting to be left alone, I do appreciate it.
Afterall, no one else ever stopped by before.
No one cared before.
I may have secluded myself by my own will, but I can’t deny it would have been nice to know someone else at least thought about me.
Simone remains where she is, looking unsure whether or not she should come any closer. “So,” she hesitates, “how is Kennedy?”
“She’s fine,” I say, a little clipped. “She’s resting. And perhaps I should too. It is late, after all.”
“Oh.” She crosses her arms over her chest, shoulders drooping. Head bowed, she takes an awkward step back. “I’m sorry for intruding. I’ll just go.”
Aidan gives me a deplorable look, and I know I’ve said the wrong thing. I’ve been told that he and I share a common flaw when it comes to the way we use our words. Sometimes we come across harsher than we intend.
In order to not leave things awkwardly between us, I call out to Simone as she turns away from the house. “Come back tomorrow. I’m sure she’d be happy to see you.”
She presses her lips together and smiles abashedly. “Thanks. I will.”
Aidan waves goodbye to her as she walks away but remains where he is.
“Weren’t you leaving as well?” I ask, my tone full of impertinence.
Aidan just chuckles and shoves his hands casually back into his pockets. “You know,” he says, “that smarmy attitude isn’t going to gain you any friends.”
“You stuck around, didn’t you?”
“True. But that’s because I was just like you. I know what you’re feeling.”
“I’m intrigued. Do tell.”
Aidan lifts his chin. “You’re hiding because you feel guilty.”
Something in my stomach drops. Though the physical parts of myself aren’t there, I feel the sensation all the same.
Like a rug being pulled out from under my floating feet.
I’ve never told anyone about my role in what happened to Moira’s grandmother.
It was purposefully left out of my father’s history books.
If Aidan notices any hint of reaction on my face, he doesn’t acknowledge it.
He just keeps talking. “What you’re feeling guilty about, I have no idea, but you’re holding on to something.
I was too. I tried to do good, putting my money into projects that needed it, but it didn’t always help, so I secluded myself.
In my mind, being alone forever was a way I could repent for my previous sins.
But I was wrong. Hiding away from everyone wasn’t just hurting me, it was hurting those around me as well. ”
I let out the breath I’d been holding. “We are not the same,” I tell him harshly. “I chose to remain in this house because it is my home. That is all.”
Aidan’s confidence wanes, but it doesn’t disappear. Instead, his face slips into something akin to pity. “Then why do you never leave?”
I can’t answer him, and he knows that.
So, instead of waiting for my answer, he leaves our conversation at that, walking slowly away as fresh snow starts to fall from the sky.