Aggie was awaken by the jarring sound of her “mourning” alarm — set to wake her at the exact time, on the exact day of the worst of her days this far. The day Cam’s soul outlived his body and he journeyed to his next purpose. At least, that’s what she told herself.
”He’s out there,“ Aggie reassured herself. “He’s living his next and his best life.”
But there was something about him that lingered in a way that was… tangible. She swore some days that she saw Cam, from the corner of her eye, resting against a wall with his arms gently crossed and his head titled in admiration as he watched her.
So her insistence that his soul had traveled onward was purposeful both in comforting her grief, and dismissing the haunting feeling that he was not quite gone just yet.
The dismissal was dwindling in effectiveness as of late. And today, as she woke to her alarm at 5:45 AM, she was met with a sixth sense telling her, “you have yet to see”, and that she would soon be unable to ignore the shadows in the corners of her vision for better or worse.
As Aggie lay in bed adjusting to consciousness, she could already sense Cam’s warmth next to her. Sometimes, she nestled into it; shifting back towards his side of the bed they once shared in the house that once was their home. Sometimes, the shiver up her spine brought comfort rather than unnerving. Today, she met his warmth with a sharp inhale as it triggered the memory of her waking on the day of Cam’s passing on.
“Come back to me,” she begged the presence. “Come back to me fully or not at all.”
Her cheeks were overcome with wetness, which ran down her face and on to her pillow atop a familiar stain from sorrows past. She pictured Cam in her mind; his wild brown hair, his dappled cheeks, and his horrible morning breath. She envisioned his warm, rough hands on her shoulders and turning around to be met by forest eyes and furrowed brows.
”I mean it,” she argued into the nothingness. “You come back or you leave me alone. I can’t believe that you’ve done this to me. You can’t leave me in limbo this way. This is… this is the worst thing you’ve ever done to me.”
Aggie felt a persistent presence, and then a movement like a gentle ocean current suddenly pass over her. She quickly turned over in bed and realized that she was alone; no Cam, and no presence. She was almost annoyed. Slowly, she made her way from the bed to the ensuite and washed away last nights makeup, then towards the windows to air the room as she showered — Cam was meant to repair the shower fan — then lazily trodded down the hall towards the kitchen.
Aggie stopped dead in her tracks.
”I’ve made you a coffee,” a familiar frame in the doorway stated. “Come.”
Cam stood, arms crossed, leant against the wall of the doorway to the kitchen; a coffee in hand. This was not a peripheral vision. Aggie was stunned and stone-footed. It seemed like an eternity passed, while her husbands‘ figure smiled on and waited patiently.
”How?” She breathed. “How have you come back to me?”
”Darling,” Cam replied with a flat, but soothing, tone. “Are you certain you haven’t come to me?”
Before Aggie could lose herself in thought and memory, Cam suddenly approached her and asked, “besides… would it matter?”
”No,” Aggie replied. “No, I suppose it doesn’t.”
”Then let’s have coffee; today and every day until the end of our time.”