Chapter 2The Other Her

I followed her into the bedroom.

In the corner, the ghost followed too.

I averted my gaze, unwilling to look any longer.

Lyra made the bed, patting the pillows. “Come on, lie down. You’re tired today, get some rest.”

I lay beside her. She reached out and turned off the main light, leaving only a small nightlight on the bedside table.

“Antonio,” she turned to face me, “have you been troubled by something lately?”

“No,” I stared at the ceiling, “just a bit tired from work.”

She took my hand. “If you’re tired, take a break. I’ll take care of us.”

Her palm was warm, her voice gentle. My throat tightened. Out of the corner of my eye, I again glimpsed the lonely spirit in the corner.

“Do you remember this pen?” I picked up the fountain pen from the bedside table, a classic hero model, its cap slightly worn.

She glanced at the pen and chuckled. “Of course I remember. I bought it for your eighteenth birthday. I saved two months’ worth of lunch money for it, bought it at the stationery shop near school. The owner said it was the last one, and I was so afraid someone else would snatch it up.”

My heart tightened. She was right.

“And do you remember what you wrote on the note when you gave it to me?” I pressed on.

“‘You love to write, this pen is for you, Happy Birthday,’” her face flushed slightly. “Actually, I wanted to write ‘I love you,’ but I didn’t dare.”

“And how did I respond?”

“You didn’t. The next day, you tucked a pack of Milk Duds into my desk. I was so happy I didn’t pay attention in class all day.”

I closed my eyes. All true.

She pulled off the cap, pointing to the words “Waiting for you” etched on it. “I even scratched my hand with a compass trying to engrave this.”

She held out her index finger, a faint mark visible on her fingertip.

“So why have you never used this pen?” My voice trembled.

“You said you cherished it too much, that you wanted to wait until our wedding day to use it for the invitations.”

I took a deep breath, placed the pen back on the nightstand, and lay down, feigning ease. “You have an amazing memory, remembering things from so many years ago.”

She smiled, reaching out to ruffle my hair. “How could I forget anything about you?”

I lowered my gaze, a thorn piercing my heart.

She was right; she remembered everything. But how could she explain the ghost in the corner?

I turned onto my side. “Since you have such a good memory,” I stared at her, “let me test you. Do you remember when we went to play by the river as kids?”

She thought for a moment. “I remember. That summer was incredibly hot, and you insisted on trying to catch fish.”

“Then you fell into the water, and I pulled you out. You were such a dork.”

I watched Lyra’s face nervously, afraid of missing any subtle expression.

I was the one who had fallen into the water back then, and she had pulled me out. If she agreed with my version, then she was the imposter!

She paused, then suddenly tapped my forehead with her index finger. “Are you dreaming? You were the one who fell into the water, and I pulled you out. You choked on quite a bit of water and cried for ages.”

I opened my mouth, unable to refute her.

“Alright, then. Do you remember the first time we went to the beach?”

She looked at me blankly. “We’ve never been to the beach. Did you forget? You always said you wanted to see the ocean, but we never had the time.”

A chill ran through me. She was right again. I hadn’t actually been to the beach, I had only said I wanted to go.

“Also, when I was little, I had a white cat named Fluffy.” My voice tightened, my tone growing a little agitated.

She frowned. “You’ve never had a cat. You were scratched by one when you were twelve, so you’re afraid of them. You avoid them whenever you see one.”

I couldn’t utter another word. Every single lie, she accurately saw through.

“Sleep now, don’t overthink things.” She pulled the blanket over us, wrapping me in her arms. “You’ve been acting strange today.”

I rested my head on her chest, listening to her heartbeat.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

“Hm?”

“Nothing.” I closed my eyes.

She shifted, habitually draping her arm over my waist, pulling me naturally into her embrace, just like always.

I opened my eyes and met the gaze of the ghost in the corner.

My mind was a tangled mess. Who should I believe?