Page 27 of Come Out, Come Out

“We’re all finished,” the man says from outside the open front door.

“Be right there,” Skye calls back from the kitchen. Her brows are furrowed as she enters the room. “That was fast.”

His eyes are shifty as he glances around the room. “We’re really hungry. Had to have my men work double-time.”

“Oh, okay.” She laughs awkwardly. “Well, I already paid online, so I guess that’s it. Thanks for the help.”

With a single nod, he books it to the truck without a look back.Good riddance.

Feeling weightless compared to the last few days, I head downstairs to see what Skye is up to. I stop in my tracks as I take in the sight of her sitting at the kitchen table eating dinner, the picture of perfection.

Skye’s return was the birth of stars in the dark of night, illuminating all that I’d lost sight of. Mere hours ago, I was ready to succumb to the bleak reality of life without her, and now, now I was certain that she was mine to keep. She’d come back.She’d come back to me.

That is everything. It’s more than I dared to hope for. I’ll show her how right the choice was. She’ll see that she belongs here,with me. But for now, I’m content to sit back and bide my time. She needs to feel safe, to readjust; she needs to come to me. I’ll wait as long as it takes.

Skye

January 1st, 2021 - One Month Later

It’s a new year, and not much has changed. I’ve been buried in work non-stop for weeks—everyone wants to start the new year off with a bang, which means updated websites, new logos; the works, for a lot of them. I’m grateful for the steady income, I am, but now I’m completely mentally depleted. I’ve hardly had a minute to think, let alone get re-settled in the house. I’ve officially put up my ‘out of office’ message for the next two weeks and intend to give myself the break I desperately need. There’s stuff everywhere that needs to be organized, especially since this chaos is putting me on edge, but I’ve earned some rest first.

I decide to spend this first day off in bed. I’m indulging myself in a movie marathon. More specifically, a horror movie marathon. With the food I had delivered earlier, I had them make a second stop at the liquor store for some mimosa ingredients as well as a candy and chip haul.You can’t have a movie marathon without snacks.

Binx is pleased with my plans for the day as he curls up at my feet and I turn on the first movie of the day,Jennifer’s Body,the bisexual spooky girl essential. I first fell for Megan Fox when she was inHoliday In the Sunand there was really no going back. I take a sip of my mimosa before lighting up a joint. I inhale deeply, letting the smoke nearly drown me before blowing out. I lick my lips, reveling in its misty kiss. Within a few minutes, I’m ready to crack open the Cool Ranch Doritos.Fucking delicious, as always.Satisfied with my choices, I lean back into my mountain of throw pillows and pull my blanket tightly around me.

At some point during the second movie,From Hell, I drifted off to sleep and I’m greeted by the credits scrolling on the screen when I wake. I sit up, crunching the chip bag noisily under my side. I groan, shrugging off the heavy weight of sleep and sore muscles. I debate whether to stay in bed and restart the movie or rinse off. The shower wins out. I grab my phone and the warmer-than-preferred bottle of sparkling wine.Shower wine is good for relaxation, okay.

The hot water beating against my bare skin is almost erotic in the way it releases the tension from my body. I sigh and take a long swig from the bottle. I stand under the spray way longer than I intend to while I finish off my drink and enjoy not having a worry in the world for the first time in a long time. When my feet start to prune, I finally get out. I pull the twin towels over the top of the shower curtain, wrap one around me, then use the other to scrunch the water out of my hair before throwing it back over the rod. I cringe slightly when the metallic rings slide noisily over the rod as I step out. I remind myself for the thousandth time that I need to switch to plastic rings.

The fluffy, absorbent rug is soft under my feet as I stop in front of the mirror. I lean forward to swipe my hand across it but freeze mid-way. Instead, I press a finger to the steamy surface and write,Hello.

I start to feel foolish, but then the beginning of letters start to form under mine.

Hi.

“Can you hear me?” I ask out loud.

Several seconds pass, thenYesappears.

Okay, well . . . now what? I really hadn’t thought that through. Maybe the whole ‘you shouldn’t drink and text’ thing should apply here too. After a minute or two, the awkward silence causes me to blurt out one of the questions I haven’t been able to get out of my mind.

“Have you been watching me this whole time?” The thought makes my pussy clench. I want to feel absurd, but I can’t find the shame.

My heart is thumping in my ears as theYappears, followed by anEand anS.

I take a steadying breath. “Have you watched me . . . touch myself?”

Again,Yesappears.

I swallow as a thousand thoughts compete for my attention, only one stands out. “Do you like it, watching me touch myself?”

I’ll admit I’m relieved when they writeYesagain.

I’m burning hotter than I did under the hot stream of the shower. I shift my legs against each other as my pussy becomes slick. Staring straight into the blurry mirror, I untuck my towel and let it drop to the floor. A few beats of silence pass. I don’t know what I expected to happen—maybe for the ghost to touch me—but while I can feel a heavy gaze roaming my body, the only hands on me are my own.

With a tentative lick of my lips, I step backward, running my hands down my chest and cup under my breasts. The next step, I stop breathless when a coldness envelopes me for a split second. My heart speeds up, about to pummel its way out.

“Was—” my voice is weak, so I clear my throat, “was that you?”

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