Pariah ✔

12 - Ghost of the Past

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Five years later

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There were whispers that he was gay. 

Gilly knew it—but he didn't care much. He didn't feel the need to prove them wrong. He didn't feel attracted to men, but he had no interest in women either. No matter how beautiful they were, how sultry their gaze, how much their hips were swinging. 

There was only one woman who'd stolen his heart with her smile. Long ago, when he was half his age. 

Five years ago she disappeared, but there hadn't been a single day she wasn't on his mind. He missed her. When she moved to Oakland he had missed her as well, but at least they had been on the phone for hours. There was no one with whom he could talk like he could talk to her; hearing her voice instantly caused a smile on his lips. 

And since she was gone, he had barely smiled. 

Sorrow was weighing heavily on his heart. Where did she go? Was she alone? Could she bear all the pain? She had always blamed the club for the loss of her parents. And now, she had also lost her lover because of them. 

Esai—who'd made an unforgivable mistake. 

Ever since, Gilly also felt less comfortable at the table. What if he fucked things up too? If he overestimated his abilities? Would they sacrifice his life as well? 

El Padrino had his own son killed. How did Alesia take that news? It must have hurt her so bad. And she had no friends to turn to—only Angel and him. 

And she clearly hadn't reached out to them. 

They were Mayans too, they had contributed to her suffering as well. 

He found it horrible, but there had been no way to prove her wrong. It felt like he was punished for something he had nothing to do with. 

With a plastic bag full of groceries he left the supermarket. He stood still close to the flower corner. Alesia always loved flowers. She had never been a very girly girl, but she could walk past flowers for hours, caressing their soft petals and taking in their scent. 

Orchids were her favorite, especially the deep violet ones.

At least a hundred times he had been about to buy her some, but like the coward he was, he'd never done it. 

His gaze fell upon a young woman who left a side path and stood still in front of the orchids. She was holding the hand of a little girl. 

Gilly's mouth felt dry. 

Her narrow hips, straight back, the dark hair tied up in a high pony...

He blinked his eyes, expecting her to disappear. This happened to him all the time—as if images of the past were stuck in this place. 

Shaking his head, he turned right, on his way home. After some steps, he stood still. 

Was it really not her? 

It was a stupid thought, he knew that. 

He continued his way home. Pretty soon he would lose his mind if he kept going on like this. 

Gilly took the groceries home. The image of the woman in the flower shop however kept circling in his head. It was an impulse—he couldn't stop himself. He went outside and mounted his bike. 

The woman was gone. 

He wasn't surprised—after all, she was nothing but a ghost of the past.

He bought white roses and let them wrap up well so the wind wouldn't damage them while he headed to the cemetery. He found the two graves effortlessly. The past fifteen years he'd visited them regularly; two times a year, he laid flowers, knowing no one else would. 

It was a sad given that one night had destroyed four lives. Often he had wondered if he could have prevented the tragedy. Alesia had been his neighbor. Maybe, if he hadn't been listening to music with his earphones on, he might have heard something alarming. Then he could have called the cops. 

Bending his head, he looked at the white flowers.

No matter how many of them he would leave at their graves, he doubted that the feeling that he could have prevented all this would ever truly go away. 

As he looked up again, he saw someone else crouched down at the graves. 

It was the woman from the store, with the little girl. 

Gilly stood still. The flowers slipped out of his hand. 

In disbelief, he stared at the young woman. This could be no coincidence. It felt like her blood was whispering his name; as if he had unconsciously known that it was Alesia he saw in the shop and that she would go to her parent's graves. 

His hands were shaking. 

What should he do? 

She had ignored his existence for years. If she didn't want to speak to him all this time, she certainly wouldn't want to talk to him now, at the grave of her mom and dad. 

But before he could decide to leave, she cocked her head to the side. 

And he stood still like a deer in the headlights. 

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