Chapter 19: Ghost

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Chapter 19: Ghost (Part 1)

The darkness cloaked Cora's eyes, and she lost track of her surroundings

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The darkness cloaked Cora's eyes, and she lost track of her surroundings. She saw nothing but the glare of headlights along a rainswept stretch of road.

She hadn't seen the flashback coming.  It was a curious thing, how the mind could lose track of where she was in both space and time at once. She'd experienced the phenomenon on a few occasions in the early days after it happened. But Cora hadn't had a flashback episode in years. She thought she had put them behind her, banished all memory of that terrible night to the far recesses of her brain.

Therapy had helped, of course, but the biggest factor had been her decision to stay single. Love had not been kind to her, and she would never venture again down that dark and stormy road.

It was like a weight had lifted, once she took romance off the table. She could breathe again. She'd gotten to the point where Steven's memory could wander in and out of her thoughts without undue emotion. Just another ex. A man she used to know. She no longer felt like the very thought of him might suffocate her—like his ghost might sneak up behind her and drag her back into the past.

She thought that meant she had healed. Maybe not good as new, but scarred over in the vulnerable places. Healed enough, surely, to enjoy a bit of fun with a handsome stranger, as long as no real feelings were involved.

No doubt she would have enjoyed the night with Jamie, if only he had picked a different movie and whispered a different image into her ears: "Imagine it. The man you loved, come back to haunt you..."

A part of her had known she should make him stop, the moment he explained the movie's plot. He'd stood behind her then, at an angle where he couldn't see her face. He couldn't have known what ghosts he might be dredging up. Perhaps he'd felt her tremble in his arms, but he'd misinterpreted what it meant. How could he have imagined that Cora was no longer with him on that beach, surrounded by the fragrant tiki torches?

No. She was in the passenger seat of a blue sedan on a rainy April night, three years in the past.

It was the first night of Passover, and Steven had driven them upstate to his parents' house in Westchester for the Seder meal. They'd been engaged for three or four months, but Cora kept procrastinating on the wedding planning. Steven's mother wouldn't let the subject drop.

Have you set a date yet?

Have you picked a venue?

Do you know how many guests you're going to invite?

Her fiancé, seated beside her, left the interrogation to the bride while he slurped away at his matzah ball soup. The sound had triggered her misophonia—a visceral aversion to eating noises—and Cora lost her appetite. She'd spent the evening shoveling her food around her plate and fidgeting with the diamond ring that felt too heavy on her finger.

No, she kept answering his mother. No, we haven't decided. No, and no, and no.

She'd been lying though. The truth was, Cora had already decided the answer to all those questions. Only she hadn't yet found the right moment to tell the groom.

She should have waited until they were back home in Steven's apartment, but she'd lost patience. She hadn't made it through the long car ride home. Behind the wheel, Steven had laid into her for turning up her nose at his mother's cooking, and something inside of her had snapped. She'd reached her limit. She couldn't take it any longer. She couldn't bear one more moment of make-believe that everything was fine.

Cora was fairly certain that she had loved Steven once upon a time, but it had changed in the months since their engagement. He'd proposed to her on a clear cold afternoon, ice skating on the rink at Rockefeller Center, and he had kissed her as he slipped the ring onto her finger.

Maybe that kiss was the beginning of the end.

She hadn't really minded kissing him when they first met. She'd been fiercely attracted to him in the beginning. He was eight years her senior and eons more experienced. Brilliant. Sophisticated. An assistant professor with a tenure-track position, and she was a bright-eyed 22-year-old in her first year of grad school. They met in line for tickets to Shakespeare in the Park, and her friend Lauren had taken the initiative to slip him her phone number. Cora could still remember the thrill when he texted her at the play's intermission and found where she was sitting. She had a crush on him for weeks before he finally asked her out.

But physical attraction always cooled in time. They'd dated for nearly two years before he popped the question. And she said yes, of course. Their relationship was perfect aside from the one small issue. Cora told herself it was normal, making up excuses not to kiss the man she purported to love.

But Cora knew it wasn't normal as she sat beside him on the car ride home. All trace of physical attraction had evaporated at that point. It had disappeared, drop by drop, replaced by nothing but a sense of emptiness and a powerful urge to get away. Try as she might, Cora could no longer fool herself into believing the old feelings would return.

So when he scolded her on the car ride home—after subjecting her to three hours of soup-slurping, brisket-chomping torture at the dinner table—she'd had enough.

She told him it was over in the car. They were halfway home, speeding down the Saw Mill Parkway, and Cora hadn't fully planned what she would say. It came out more cruelly than she'd intended.

Why? He kept asking her over and over. Because of my mom? Forget my mom! What are you talking about? What did I do wrong?

Nothing, she had answered. I love you, but I'm just not in love with you.

Of course you are!

No, she'd answered. And I'm not sure I ever was.

The drizzle outside had given way to a rainstorm by the time she said those words. The windshield wipers beat out a frantic rhythm. Her view of the road had turned into nothing more than a murky kaleidoscope of headlights and brake lights diffused by water droplets.

Granted, her night vision was terrible. But Steven had his own issues when it came to visual perception. And the visibility couldn't have been helped once he'd stopped shouting and started crying.

He was driving way too fast. No doubt anxious to get her home and talk some sense into her. Cora begged him to pull over, but Steven wouldn't listen.

The rain poured down, and he drove on...

***

Dear Readers;
I have to break this chapter into two parts or it would be way too long. Part 2 coming soon! If you're enjoying the story, please let me know with your COMMENTS and VOTES. Thank you!

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