Page 99 of Ghostly
You’ll get through it. Over him. You have all the time in the world to doso.
All the time in the world sounded very scary and lonely again.
“Ida,” Gabriel spoke, but didn’t make a move. “I know you’re around here somewhere. Don’t worry, I won’t bother you.” His keys jingled. “As you probably gathered, I’m leaving. I’m going back to the city.”
With Wynona.
He must’ve spent the last few hours with her, thinking about his new life. How he could’ve had it months ago, if it weren’t for Ida. Silly, scheming little ghost.
“My rent runs out in a week. I took care of everything. A crew will come by to put the kitchen and dining room back into place. The landlady said they can keep the garden as it is, so… you’ll have that.”
Wonderful. She needed more memories of how her garden used to look. More memories of Gabriel.
“I just wanted to say goodbye. So I guess… this is goodbye.”
The front door creaked.
“Wait!” Ida channeled her energy to grab the locket, and glided to the hallway. But as she stood in front of him, she didn’t know where to start.
Or how to end this.
“Ida.” The single word was filled with emotion, with promise of explanations, reassurances, forgiveness. But Gabriel went for none of those— especially not the last one.
That was fine. She needed him to leave, even if she didn’t want him to. “I wanted to give you this.” She approached, extending her hand with the locket. “This is the first one I created. The one that made Perry behave…”
The cheerful memory warmed her and, for the moment, made her feel lighter. Regardless of how this ended, no one could take away the past few months, and she’d forever be grateful to Gabriel for them.
“When I created it,” she continued, halting every few words, “I was thinking of you. Of the good times we had together. It’s a good amulet. And because it’s connected toyou, it won’t affect you in the same way it did Perry. It’ll only make you happy.”
Why did he have to stare at her like his heart was breaking with every word she said?
“I’m not any worse because of you,” she said, her voice breaking. “I’m still like this, immaterial, invisible to everyone else. But because of you, this part of my ghostly life has been better.”
The locket shook as she lost control; just in time, Gabriel intercepted it.
“Thank you.” His hand remained raised for a few moments more, until he took a step back.
“Thankyou.”
Gabriel looked to the side, squeezed his eyes shut, then faced her again.
“Goodbye, Ida.”
Every force in her screamed not to let him go; that once he was out of this house, he was out of reach, forever. But her legs wouldn’t budge, and strands of darkness snaked around her, snatching the happy memories. Gabriel left and the door clicked close, shutting out the last bits of light.
Chapter 24
Two weeks and 214 hours of regret later
The phone screen lit up with the persistentding-ding-dingof the morning alarm. Gabriel shut it off, then lifted to sit on the edge of the bed, where he remained, staring at the clock. When 6.59 turned into 7.00, he got up and walked to the bathroom.
One, two, three, four, five, six minutes. Wash up, brush your teeth,don’t thinkof Ida. One, two, three, four, five, six. Shave. The beard was long since gone, and he only needed to do a quick shutting down of the overnight stubble for maximum presentability. One, two, three, four, five, six. Style the hair. He’d cut it to a medium length, one that barely touched his neck as he slicked it back. His old look met him in the mirror. It should have felt welcome, but it was like staring at an alien.
No time to dawdle. Doing so only left the door wide open to the memories. One, two, three, four, five, six, dress. White shirt. He paused in front of the jacket rack, fingers sliding along the sleeve of the gray jacket with the cube pattern.
This was his first day back after the suspension had been lifted, and based on his bosses’ brusque communication so far, most likely his last. Did he dare risk it—possibly worsen it—with his choice of attire? He turned to another jacket—a simple charcoal gray, no pattern, not even a single stripe. He already had it off the hanger when he cursed, put it back, and grabbed the cube one.
Fuck it.
