I Loved Your Ghost Not You Chapter 2

It was high noon, and the California sun was relentless and bright.

I had thrown on a fresh outfit and was in remarkably good spirits as I walked into the diner to meet Cam.

The second I slid into the booth, Cam grabbed my shoulders, checking me over like I’d just survived a car wreck.

"Are you okay? Seriously, man, what's going on?"

I laughed, batting his hands away. "I'm fine. Never better."

Cam wasn't buying it. "Are you sure? When you called me last night, you were barely making sense. I kept asking what was wrong, and you just went dead silent and hung up. Then it went straight to voicemail. I was losing my mind, thinking you were in a ditch somewhere."

"Level with me. Did Viola do something to you again?"

I pulled him down into his seat, leaning back with effortless ease. "I'm genuinely fine. I just dropped my phone and shattered the screen last night. Nobody did anything to me. Viola is being Viola. She pays the bills, keeps the lights on."

I paused for a second, swirling the straw in my iced water before adding casually, "Though, her old flame did just move back from Europe. She hired him as her personal assistant. And yesterday, I just happened to walk in on them swapping spit in her office."

Cam just stared at me.

"Dude, you call that fine?!" He looked like he wanted to tear his hair out. "Are you not losing your goddamn mind? She's cheating on you!"

"I told you from day one that woman was toxic, but you treat her like she hangs the moon."

"It's whatever," I said, my tone feather-light. "I slept with her best friend anyway."

Dead silence.

Cam stared at me. He didn't even blink.

Then, he let out a whispered, earth-shattering, "Holy shit," so intense that the little girl at the next table jumped.

Realizing he was causing a scene, he slapped a hand over his mouth, looking around like we were plotting a heist, before sliding across the vinyl booth to get closer to me.

"...Who?"

"You don't know her."

"What the hell were you thinking? Was it a revenge lay?"

"Not really." I pushed my sparkling water toward him with a smile. "I just noticed Shirley has this crescent-moon scar on her shoulder. It looks exactly like Mona's birthmark. I had a few drinks in me, and for a second... my mind just played a trick on me."

Cam looked at me like I had grown a second head. "You are insane..."

"To be honest, it wasn't even a good time," I continued smoothly. "Lights off, she’s exactly the same as anyone else. Nothing special to touch. Faking my way through it felt like an acting exercise."

"Viola is slightly better, I guess. She knows what she’s doing, and she's got a decent face. When she smiles, there's maybe a twenty percent resemblance. But even that gets old."

"Whatever. If it's not Mona, they're all just placeholders."

"Just passing the time. Nobody needs to take it so seriously."

Cam sat there like a statue. He was so stunned he’d forgotten how to breathe.

Eventually, entirely out of shock, he slowly raised his hand and gave me a thumbs-up.

I clinked my glass against his.

"Just one question," Cam started, his voice a little hoarse. "Who exactly is Mona—"

His voice hitched.

I followed his frozen, terrified gaze over my shoulder, and found myself staring directly into Viola’s face. It was so dark and stormy you could almost hear the thunder.

A ragged, guttural sound tore its way out of her throat.

"Holden. Who the hell is Mona?"