Ghost
A Flash Fiction by Coralie
Inktober Day 22: Ghost
The ghost of a smile graced her lips. That’s when I knew it was over. Actually over.
Her eyes fell to the floor and she huffed out a soft laugh. That hurt worse than anything else.
I’d seen her genuine smiles. I’d seen the light of them reach her eyes, sending crinkles to the edges of them. And I’d seen the glisten in those blue eyes with the wide grins she reserved only for me. I knew what made her happy, what made her laugh. I even knew the difference between the bubbly laugh and the surprised laugh, the you’re-so-silly smile and the that-touched-me smile. I knew her better than anyone else. But evidently that wasn’t enough.
“I’m sorry, John,” she sighed. Those pools of blue glanced up at me, but only for a moment before fixating on her boots as they scuffed another worn plank on my grandmother’s porch.
I stuffed my hands into my pockets and rocked back onto my heels, blowing out a long breath. Squinting, I stared off into the sunset. I guess now would be a poor time to pull the ring box out of my pocket and ask her to share her future with me.
We stood there. The birds’ calls echoed off the mountainside and died out with the sun, giving way to the chorus of crickets warming up for their nightly symphony.
“Aren’t you going to say something?” I’d never heard her voice so small.
I glanced over at her, then rubbed the back of my neck as I considered her. I could just make out the shape of her against the last rays of the sun. Dusk would chase away any remaining heat of the early fall day. This wasn’t exactly how I’d planned our weekend getaway.
“Joanne, I…”
She sniffed quietly, but the sound was deafening.
Shouldn’t I feel more than this? Shouldn’t this hurt more? I mean, maybe…maybe this was for the best.
I fingered the velvet box in my hoodie pocket.
“I thought you wanted to meet–“
“This isn’t about your family, John.” The whispered words were sharp and it took everything in me not to recoil.
“Then what is it about, Joanne?” There it was. That raging emotion that tore through the calm. I’d almost prefer the stunned numb feeling to this. I threw my hand out. At what I couldn’t say. “I love you!” My voice cracked.
She nodded. “I know.”
“Then…then what…” I blinked back the tears that began to pool behind my eyes. “Just…why don’t you come in?” I looked back at the screen door. “They’re all inside waiting….they’ve all been waiting to meet you.” For months. And now she wanted to bail?
“I can’t.” She squeezed her eyes shut and turned. I watched her head bob and listened to her heels click against the wooden stairs my great-grandfather had nailed into place, the stairs I’d imagined our children would learn to crawl up and down.
“Isn’t there something I can say…or do…?” My voice gave her pause, and that gave me hope. “Anything,” I begged gently, “to change your mind?”
But she never turned around. Just kept walking.