Til Death Do Us Part

It was an odd feeling being detached from the world.

You always said I was a daydreamer, which was just a nice way of saying I never listened to you. When we fought, you'd get mad at how I'd remain so blank and emotionless. I should be used to feeling left out and simply away from everything else - I mean, that was what I've been doing my entire life, right?

I thought our lives were perfect. Yes, we had our fair share of fights and we hurt each other before, but isn't that what normal couples do, too? I was still waiting for when you open your arms and welcome me back.

You always said I was too patient for my own good.

So I died, and I found you again in my afterlife, and I followed you around until I finally read past the first few chapters to the plot twist. I thought you mourned for me, but you've always been a good actor.

Wasn't it odd that you'd never chosen a different wedding hall? All the decorations I picked out, you used. Wasn't that just the oddest kind of morbid?

I watched you marry the one person I claimed I hated because you never believed me when I said I didn't understand "hate." I wondered if you even realized what you were doing. This whole thing felt like a dream, but maybe you were the one who hasn't woken up yet.

You still looked gorgeous. I couldn't help it, I never learned how it felt to be away from you, so I walked with you all the way to your honeymoon suite. I watched as you undressed, slipped fingers under skin, uttered sounds I thought only I was allowed to hear.

You still couldn't see me, yet. It's okay, I'm used to it. Whenever you got mad, you'd treat me like I was invisible. But you always broke, in the end.

You froze. "Did you hear that?"

My heartbeat spiked. I took a step towards the bed, deliberately making as much noise as I could in the stifling quiet. You sat up, arms crossed over your chest. Your spouse wrapped a comforting arm around you, whispering in your ear. You remained rigid because both you and I knew I was the only one who could calm you down during your anxiety attacks. My lips curled up at the thought.

"Hi, sweetie," I whispered in the dark, moving even closer to your bed. I couldn't tell if your shivering was because of me. "Are you thinking of me? Do you miss me, while you wrapped yourself around somebody else?"

"No, no, no," You started crying, and I smiled. You always looked cute when you were scared.

"Honey, what's wrong?" Your spouse asked, but you didn't spare them a glance. You were looking straight at me, weren't you? You broke.

I was beside you now, barely sparing a glance at the arm snaked around you. "You only deserve to be touched by me. Haven't I already told you? Have you not learned your lesson?"

"Sam, get out right now," You managed out, pulling away from your lover.

"But-"

"Get out!"

I chuckled as Sam shakingly got off the bed and exited the room. How could you marry a person like that? You didn't deserve to be feared. That wasn't your position.

"You're not supposed to be here," You said, your voice hoarse and thick from crying. Your hands were balled into tight, little fists, and I reached out to wrap my hand around yours. I wanted to comfort you, but instead, you jerked away from my touch. You cast wide, terrified eyes in my direction. "How are you - you, you're supposed to be dead! I saw, with my own eyes, I - I killed you!"

"Oh, love, I would never leave you." You were backed against the wall, my favorite position to see you in, and I reached out a hand to place on your cheek. "Not even after death."

You were full-out sobbing by now. I smiled at the sight, letting my other hand trail up your arm, past the familiar, sweet bruises to your neck.

"I only want what's best for you," I leaned in, whispered against your lips as my hold tightened. I'd like to think of that sound you made as approval, not that I ever needed it. I always knew we were on the same page. "Won't you join me, love?"