NO GOOD DEED || S. REID

4.2

    KATHARINE HESITATED AT HER FRONT DOOR. It had been five years since she'd last seen, well, anyone, so it wasn't strange that she was unsure of her decision to return to her life before death.

    She raised a hand to knock but found herself hesitating yet again. What if... what if Spencer had moved on? What if he found another woman? Another woman that was more emotionally available to him or even one that gave him children without a second thought?

    She lowered her fist, drawing back from the door. If that was the case, then she had no business coming back in and ruining anything he had made for himself. She looked at her watch, the instrument of time telling her that it was nearing midnight.

    Katharine sighed. It was late. She'd come back in the morning, maybe with a gift basket or something.

    But she made no moves to leave the property. Instead, she found herself sitting on the porch swing that was beginning to look like it had seen better days. Still, she looked at the swing fondly, running a hand over the weathered upholstery.

    The shoddy piece of decor was one of her and Spencer's first purchases as a married couple--the idea of being able to sit outside on those nice summer days persuading them into buying the outdoor furniture. The bench squeaked ever so slightly as she gently swung back and forth unable to tell if the feeling in her chest was bittersweet or just sad.

    She looked out in front of her, the streetlights offering a soft glow as the neighborhood slept. A lone breeze swept by, brushing the hair off her shoulder and gently caressing her face. It wasn't long before a car rolled down the street, headlights bright as it passed her by.

    She turned her head as the front door opened and her husband stepped out, glasses settled on the bridge of his nose and a blanket wrapped loosely around his shoulders.

    Katharine stiffened, her feet landing gently on the floor to stop the gentle rocking of the swing. She watched, almost in slow motion, as Spencer closed the door behind him and turned around, everything falling still as his eyes connected with hers.

    The mug that had been clasped between his hands slipped through, hitting the wooden porch and spilling tea over the faded white paint. She held her breath as he analyzed the situation, his eyes trailing over her figure in disbelief.

    "Are you..." he trailed off, returning his gaze to her eyes. "Are you real?"

    Katharine felt the tears well up behind her eyes as she carefully stood from the bench. She took a tentative step forward, testing the waters, and when he didn't back away, she threw herself at him. She sobbed into his shoulder as his arms closed around her waist. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, breathing in the scent that had faded from her clothes a week after she had gone.

    "I'm so sorry," she apologized, trying to pull herself closer to him. His grip tightened around her, trying to stop his hands from shaking as he processed the fact that she was actually there. That, no, this wasn't a dream and she wasn't going to disappear the second he woke up.

    Katharine drew back, tears still in her eyes as she looked at the man she loved. She apologized again, saying "Can you forgive me?" at the end.

    Spencer brought a hand up to wipe the tears off her cheek, holding her face in his hands. Millions of questions rushed through his mind, all of them seeming to be asking a variation of how. How was she here? How did she survive?

    But none of those "hows" mattered when he pulled her in, pressing his lips against hers, and suddenly, everything was right in the world. Gravity no longer held him to the Earth, she did. She held onto him and the promise that she made all those years ago reigned true.