Ghost of You

chapter 7

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 If The World Falls To Pieces - Young Summer
01:43 ━━━━●───── 02:47
⇆ㅤ ㅤ◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷ ㅤㅤ↻
ılıılıılıılıılıılı
ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮

ִֶָ𓂃˖˳·˖ ִֶָ ⋆★⋆ ִֶָ˖·˳˖𓂃 ִֶָ

"We must be willing to let go of the life we have
planned, so as to accept the one that is waiting for us."
______________________________________________

I twist the key into the lock of my apartment door with shaking hands. I move into the apartment with hesitant steps, every part of me on high alert, searching for Blake, searching for my son. I don't know why I'm surprised to see Ethan's babysitter curled up on the couch, the tv on. "Hey, Liz, where's Blake?" I ask softly, dropping my go bag to the floor with a soft sigh of relief.

She smiles brightly at me, turning off the tv and standing from the couch. "He had to go into work, apparently there was an emergency situation to take care of," she says, her voice reminding me of my own teenage days. I give her a soft smile back, "and how's Ethan?" She shrugs, and I tilt my head at her, waiting for an explanation. "He's sleeping right now. He's got a little fever, and he was coughing a lot, but I gave him some medicine and he fell asleep maybe twenty minutes ago," she nods.

"Thank you, Liz," I reach into my purse and pull out my wallet, "How much do I owe you?" She shakes her head, waving my attempt away. "Blake already paid me, you're all square," she smiles brightly at me. "Oh," I nod, "Good." Liz grabs her things, and starts to head for the door. "Have a good rest of your evening, Mrs. Moros," Liz calls out to me. I cringe, instantly nauseous at the title, but manage to give her a little smile and a wave as the door closes behind her.

I head into my son's room to check on him. He's so little, so small, in his bed. I smile softly at his fever-flushed cheeks. He doesn't wake when I caress his forehead, his fever keeping him lost in his sleep. "My poor baby," I coo in a soft whisper, pressing a kiss to his forehead, my lips cool against his heated skin. He still doesn't stir, his breathing deep and steady, rattling in his chest.

I stand, letting him sleep, and head into my bedroom to shower and change into something more comfortable. The hot water is soothing, and washes away all the tension still in my body. I find my mind wandering, my eyes closed under the flow of water as it runs over my body. I can feel the ghost of Emily's hand on my thigh, feel the breath as she whispers into my ear. "It's okay, El, it's just a little storm," she had breathed into my ear.

A shiver runs down my spine as I suck in a soft breath, remembering how she had wrapped her arm around me for the briefest moment, before I had bolted from the car. If I would have let her hold me, I wouldn't have been able to let her go. A soft moan falls from my lips, and the sound jerks me from my thoughts, forcing me back to the present.

"Oh, fuck," I mutter, catching my hand between my legs, blaming the traitorous appendage as if it had a mind of its own. I swiftly pull my hand away, and wash away the evidence of how my thoughts took over my body. I feel that dull ache deep within me as I try and focus on my shower, and not the way I'm feeling. It's been so long, too long, since I've even felt aroused, and I hate myself for it.

I hate that my fiance is the way he is, I hate that his attempts to elicit this reaction from me don't work. I hate that a single minute of Emily's concerned attention has me pressed into the shower wall, hands running over my body, as I try so desperately hard not to give in to the thoughts, the desires, the feelings. The fact that she's able to make me like this, without even trying, without even knowing makes my entire body burn.