The Uninvited Guest

Ghosts of Her Past

As Elena stepped back into the warmth of the reception hall, the contrast between the lively party and the dark confrontation she had just endured felt jarring. Laughter bubbled up from the tables, completely oblivious to the turmoil unraveling within her.

Her eyes searched the room, scanning through the familiar faces, until they landed on Jason. He was standing by the bar, talking to a couple of friends, but the tension in his stance made it clear that his mind wasn't on the conversation. He kept glancing toward the door, waiting for her.

Elena's heart twisted with guilt. Jason deserved better than this—better than the storm of emotions she was trapped in, better than the dark past she had dragged into their perfect day.

She walked toward him, each step feeling heavier than the last. As she drew closer, Jason looked up, his worried eyes immediately locking onto hers. He excused himself from the conversation and closed the distance between them, his brow furrowed in concern.

"Elena, what's going on?" he asked softly, his hand slipping around her waist as he pulled her in close. "You've been gone for a while. Are you okay?"

She wanted to tell him everything. She wanted to unload the weight of the fear and anger still simmering inside her. But the words stuck in her throat. How could she explain that Norman was still here—still haunting her?

"I... needed some air," she said, her voice thin. She could see the question forming in Jason's eyes, the silent plea for more, but before he could speak, Elena reached for his hand and squeezed it gently. "I'm fine now. I promise."

Jason didn't look convinced, but he nodded, his thumb brushing against her knuckles in a reassuring gesture. "If you're sure," he said quietly, his tone making it clear that he wasn't letting this go. Not entirely.

Elena forced a small smile, trying to ease the tension. "I don't want to worry you, okay?"

Jason's gaze lingered on her, as though he could see the cracks beneath her calm exterior, but after a moment, he sighed and nodded. "Alright. But we're talking later. I'm not letting this slide."

She nodded, feeling both relieved and anxious about the conversation that was inevitably coming. But she owed it to Jason, and to herself, to find at least a sliver of joy amidst the chaos.

Jason wrapped his arm around her waist, and together, they walked back toward the dance floor. For a moment, Elena let herself sink into the rhythm, the warmth of Jason's touch calming the storm inside her. She leaned into him, resting her head briefly against his shoulder, trying to absorb the peace he exuded.

"You still with me?" Jason asked, his voice soft in her ear, the question light but laced with concern.

Elena looked up at him and nodded, forcing a smile that felt more genuine this time. "Yeah. I'm here."

They swayed together under the dim lights, and for a brief, precious moment, Elena allowed herself to forget. The warmth of the room began to seep back into her bones, pushing away the chill that Norman had left behind.

But the peace didn't last long.

Just as she began to relax, a voice interrupted the quiet between them—a voice that was low and familiar, cutting through the music like a knife.

"Elena."

Her body tensed instantly, and she turned sharply, eyes wide with disbelief. Her worst fear, the one she had convinced herself couldn't be true, stared back at her.

Norman was standing in the doorway again.

She felt Jason stiffen beside her, his arm tightening protectively around her waist. Elena's stomach twisted, her pulse quickening. How is he back? I saw him leave.