Tingle - a love story of the supernatural kind.

Chapter 1

Natalie

I hated this. He left, angry, red-faced. Another argument. We'd been fighting more than speaking for months. I couldn't remember the last time we'd just sat and had a conversation that didn't end in an argument. Or the last time we'd just sat together and just enjoyed each other's company.

My heart still pounded as I saw him, my husband of almost nine years, those blue eyes that had always magnetized me glaring now. It was my fault. For bringing it up. Why did I keep bringing it up?

Because I was an idiot.

Only in these past couple of years had and my biological clock said it was time to have a baby. We were busy, knee deep in our careers. I'd told it to go away. Sure, we had the nice home in Palm Desert. We had the stable life, even the ability to provide a nice, if not humble life for a baby. He never wanted kids. Yes, he'd told me this years ago, but I still pressed.

In reality, the last thing to bring into a troubled marriage was a child. Any psychologist would say that. Hell, my bestie, Marie told me all the time. So, I put the idea of it away. But once I saw a smiling baby at the supermarket or a happy couple walking with their kids or playing at the park, that need came back with a vengeance. As if I was a fool for even daring to forget about it. It wasn't all my fault. He had plenty. He worked too many hours. He seemed to prefer the company of his video games over sitting to eat dinner with me. We didn't even watch television together.

A baby would not fix anything. Then how would that leave me? A single parent?

But this time, his words stung when he said them. "I can't keep having this argument! I can't do this anymore. You are driving me insane with this talk of a baby!"

"I can still have a baby," I insisted, arms folded.

"Without me?" he said, nodding. "Okay, you do what you gotta do then, Nat, but don't expect me to stick around."

He slammed the door as he left, and as tears stung my eyes, I kicked the slippers from underneath the coffee table. Slob. I took his opened bag of chips and threw them at the front door but didn't give the satisfying smack I intended. Instead, the bag just circled in the air and dropped a bunch of corn tortilla triangles onto the carpet. Good job, Natalie.

I grabbed the remote and flung it at the door, which it hit with a thunk and then smacked down into the tile entryway. A battery burst from its compartment, and I didn't even care if I'd broken it.

Dammit!

Muttering a string of curses, I stomped to our bedroom where photos sat nicely on the dresser and shelves. Our wedding photo. The portrait of us on the cruise to Mexico that we took standing by a grand piano. Photos that we'd taken together where he still had his arms around me. One might even think that we loved each other. We did, didn't we?

Tears dripped onto my pillow as sobs racked my chest. How many times had he left and I'd cried myself to sleep. Was he coming back? Did I even care if he did?

As my lids began to feel heavy, I saw that face, inside the space in my head where pictures formed. Ones that looked like people, like places, like things. Even in that black space, where I usually saw nothing, that face always appeared. His smile was warm like hot chocolate. His eyes were as green as the sea, and his features were so breathtakingly handsome he could have rivaled Brad Pitt or Rob Lowe or Chris Hemsworth. No, this face had them all beat. His smile was all for me. It was the only time he came. And I was sure as I drifted off to sleep, I felt a hand caress my cheek.

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The Team

Jeff pressed his hand ever so lightly against the smooth skin of her face.  To him, Natalie was an angel on earth, and this precious being hadn't deserved this.