Chapter 2: He Came Home
1050 Words
I'm coming home
The words burned into my screen.
I stared at them.
Then at Derek.
Then at the dust that used to be James's engagement ring.
The ballroom erupted.
Chaos erupted, everyone frantically trying to hide, many pressed tightly to the wall, to prevent being seen I guess. Tables displaced, chairs turned.
People screamed.
Someone fainted.
Phones shot into the air as the brave guests recorded everything.
Nobody cared about etiquette anymore.
They cared about the dead man standing in the middle of the room. Like a Grim reaper.
"Security!" someone shouted with a shaky voice, barely audible for a normal occasion.
Three guards rushed forward.
Big mistake.
Derek didn't move.
Didn't flinch.
Didn't even look at them. Just deeply focused on me, like I was they only thing that mattered, only one present in the room.
The first guard grabbed his shoulder.
His hand passed straight through.
The man stumbled and nearly fell.
The second guard swung a fist.
It met nothing but air.
The third stopped dead. Shaking vigorously.
His face had gone completely white.
Because Derek was smiling.
"Desidre."
My name rolled off his tongue like a warning.
Not a greeting.
Not affection.
A warning.
James stepped in front of me.
"Stay away from her."
Derek finally looked at him.
The temperature dropped another ten degrees.
Frost crept across nearby tables.
Champagne glasses cracked.
Every instinct screamed at me to run.
Yet I couldn't move.
Because beneath the fear...
There was something else.
Relief.
And that terrified me more than anything.
Derek was dead.
I shouldn't have felt relieved to see him.
But a small, ugly part of me did.
His gaze softened when it landed on me again.
Only me.
As if the room no longer existed.
As if two hundred people weren't watching.
As if six months hadn't passed.
As if he hadn't died.
"Come here."
The command was quiet.
I hated that my body almost obeyed.
James grabbed my hand.
"Desidre, don't."
That snapped me out of it.
"No."
The word came out stronger than I expected.
Derek stilled.
For the first time since appearing, genuine emotion crossed his face.
Pain.
Gone in an instant.
Replaced by something colder.
"You're choosing him?"
I swallowed hard.
The question wasn't fair.
Nothing about this was fair.
"You died."
"You are dead." I said, in whisper. Barely audible.
Silence.
The entire ballroom listened.
"I buried you," I continued.
My voice shook.
"I cried for you for months." I slept by your grave every day.
Something flashed in his eyes.
Regret.
Then anger.
Then something much darker.
"And yet," he said quietly, "you're wearing another man's ring."
The broken diamond dust glittered on the floor between us.
A line in the sand.
James squeezed my hand.
"You're not Derek."
The billionaire ghost laughed.
A low sound almost like a growl.
Dangerous.
"Really?" he said, an eyebrows raised, chuckled sarcastically. Like someone who didn't care to give an explanation.
The chandeliers exploded.
Glass rained from the ceiling.
Guests screamed and dove for cover.
The lights died again.
This time the darkness lasted only seconds.
When they returned—
Derek was gone.
Just gone.
No smoke.
No dramatic exit.
Nothing.
The space where he'd stood was empty.
A collective silence settled over the room.
Nobody knew what to say. Cold chills running down everyone's spine. Bewildered.
Because nobody knew what they'd just witnessed.
My phone vibrated.
I already knew who it was.
I didn't want to look.
I looked anyway.
Derek.
Leave. Now.
A second message appeared.
He's lying to you.
My stomach dropped.
I glanced at James.
He was talking to security.
Trying to restore order.
Trying to be rational.
Normal.
Alive.
Then my phone vibrated again.
Ask him where he was the night I died.
My breath caught.
The night Derek died.
James had been working.
At least that's what he told me.
Hadn't he?
Suddenly I couldn't remember.
The realization made my skin crawl.
“Desidre?"
James was looking at me.
Concern filled his face.
“You look pale."
I quickly locked the screen.
“Just tired."
His eyes narrowed.
He didn't believe me.
He took my hands, holding them firmly. Worry lines growing on his forehead. " Your hands are freezing". He said.
Then I looked at my hands. He was right, my hands was plain white. Blood drained from both palm.
"Yeah." Pulling my hands away from his, avoiding his eyes.
Before he could ask another question, a woman pushed through the crowd.
Blonde.
Elegant.
Expensive.
Familiar.
My heart sank.
Vanessa Blackwood.
Derek's younger sister.
The woman who hated me almost as much as she loved her brother.
She stopped three feet away.
Her eyes were red.
As if she'd been crying.
Not tonight.
For months.
Then she slapped me.
The sound echoed across the ballroom.
Gasps erupted.
I touched my burning cheek.
Too shocked to react.
Vanessa was shaking.
With rage.
With grief.
Maybe both.
"This is your fault."
The accusation hit harder than the slap.
"What?"
"You heard me."
Tears filled her eyes.
"If you'd stayed away from him, he'd still be alive."
The room fell silent.
Every guest listening.
Every camera recording.
I stared at her.
Unable to speak.
Because guilt was my oldest companion.
I'd blamed myself every day since Derek died.
Vanessa stepped closer.
Her voice dropped.
Low enough that only I could hear.
Or so she thought.
"He's back because of you."
Ice flooded my veins.
"What are you talking about?"
Her face drained of color.
Realizing she'd said too much.
Before she could answer, every light in the ballroom flickered.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
The giant projection screen behind the stage suddenly turned on.
By itself.
Static filled the display.
Guests jumped.
A high-pitched screech echoed through the speakers.
Then the static cleared.
The room went silent.
Because the screen was showing security footage.
Dated six months ago.
The night Derek died.
I stopped breathing.
James stopped breathing.
Vanessa looked terrified.
The footage showed a hospital hallway.
Room 412.
Derek's room.
A timestamp glowed in the corner.
3:03 A.M.
Someone exited the room.
A man.
Tall.
Broad shoulders.
Dark suit.
The figure turned.
Just enough for everyone to see his face.
The ballroom erupted.
Because the man leaving Derek's hospital room moments before his death...
Was James.
- Writer
