Her Lover's Face | Sample Only

Chapter Three

Alex chuckled at the spectacle of a grown woman hiding under the sheets. The way a child would hide from a ghost. Her reaction only intrigued him more. "Miss," he inquired softly.

"Go away. You're not real. You can't be real. You're dead." She kept a death grip on the sheets as he tried to pry them down.

"Last time I checked, I was real," Alex commented. Finally, he managed to pull the sheets off her head. She swung her arms at him. He grabbed her forearms and held them away from him.

"You're dead. I saw them bury you." She wrenched her arms away from him and proceeded to keep swinging. He wrapped his fingers around her wrists and gently lowered her hands down beside her.

"Ms. Mitchell, I'm not sure who you saw buried, but it wasn't me. I'm not, what's his name, Aidan?"

Laryssa nodded her head and eyed him warily. "Who are you?"

She tried to pull away, but he didn't relinquish his hold on her. He was going to make her see the truth if it was the last thing he did. Her latest reactions re-enforced his need to share who he was.

"My name is Alexander Richards. We've never met before I assure you." He was sure of that. There was no way he'd forget someone as beautiful as her. "I'm sorry if I frightened you." He wanted to say more, but a nurse walked into the room.

"Is everything okay in here? We really can't have her getting upset right now." The nurse looked at the clock on the wall. "I'm afraid that while we do allow family to stay, we really need her to get some rest so unless you're willing to let her sleep, you'll have to come back tomorrow."

He wanted to argue with the nurse but knew she was right when he looked back at Laryssa. She was tired personified, the dark bags under her eyes more evident than before. Alex didn't really want to leave, he wanted to pry more information out of her, but it probably was for the best. Maybe time alone and a good night sleep would allow what he said to sink into her mind. Hopefully, the next time he came to the hospital she would be more willing to speak with him. He grabbed his jacket and strolled out of the room.

As he sat in his car, driving home, the situation kept popping into his mind. Unease settled into the deepest part of him as he recalled the terror in her eyes when he walked in the room. Did he really look so much like this other man that she'd react so strongly? Maybe, she was just so distraught over her loss that everyone she saw looked like him.

He had heard of cases where a person had suffered such severe hallucinations because they couldn't accept the loss of a loved one. They wanted them to be alive so badly that they were able to convince their minds that their loved ones were still around. Would that have happened both times she'd met him? Or could there actually be something more to this than either of them realize? That was what he was going to find out.

***

The next morning, true to her word, Melissa popped in at the start of visiting hours. "Hey girl, how's it going today?"

"Lousy!" Laryssa sighed, cuddling deep beneath the covers. "What's wrong with me?"

"Do you want to talk about it?" her friend asked.

"I don't even know what to say." She leaned forward and whispered, "Hi, my name is psycho, I see dead people." Despite the absurdity of the situation, they looked at each other and burst out laughing.

After a few minutes, they calmed down and Laryssa leaned back against the bed. "Gosh, that felt good."

"Glad I could help," Melissa said grinning.

"I'm scared, Mel. If I keep having these hallucinations, they might take my babies away."

"Are you so sure they are hallucinations?"