4|| THE GHOST BESIDE HIM.
1043 Words
“I have always come here for the past seven years to pay homage to the woman I loved.” Jackson replied looking at nothing in particular.
“And who was that?”
Her tightly frowned face loosened in concern.
“Janet Reed Patterson. We met just once but she took my heart with her.”
Jackson responded, his eyes glistening as he narrowed it.
He remembered her.
She hadn't expected that. Not after seven years.
Not after everything that happened.
He remembered her after just one night.
Jackson's voice was barely above a whisper as he finished. “Her entire family died in the fire. I… I still pray they made a mistake. That somehow she got out.”
Emma stood frozen.
Her heart thudded so hard it was deafening. Blood roared in her ears, as memories crashed in, ashes, screams, fire devouring everything she'd loved. And one unforgettable night, with a stranger who held her like she was worth saving.
Jackson.
Her boss.
Her one night salvation.
And now, the man unknowingly mourning her, believing she was long dead.
Emma struggled to breathe. Her chest felt tight, as if her past was a noose tightening with every heartbeat.
She swallowed hard, forcing her voice to steady. “She must have been… very special.”
“She was,” Jackson said, nodding slowly.
“She was the first woman who made me feel… seen. And then she vanished. Like a dream.”
Emma's hands trembled at her sides, so she clenched them into fists. She couldn't afford to break now. Not here. Not yet.
Not when the truth could ruin everything.
She had buried Janet Patterson seven years ago for a reason, to survive, to disappear, to exact justice in silence.
But now, the ghost of who she was stood face-to-face with the man who unknowingly held the key to her past and maybe… her future.
“Life is strange,” she said softly, blinking away the moisture that threatened to betray her. “We never really know who someone is until they are gone.”
Jackson looked down at her then, his gaze distant but warm. “Yeah… and sometimes we wish we'd asked more questions before it was too late.”
Emma gave a faint, brittle smile. If only you knew how close she still is.
FLASHBACK
It had been another long, soul wearying day. Jackson's board meetings had dragged, and the silence of his penthouse loomed in his mind like a prison
He needed air. Or whiskey. Or both.
He ended up at his usual upscale bar, dim lights, soft jazz, expensive liquor. But that night, something, someone, threw off the rhythm.
She sat at the far end of the counter. A nearly empty wine glass. Shoulders slumped. Eyes red.
Her sadness shined on her face like a light.
Jackson ordered his drink, but his gaze kept drifting back to her. Something about her felt… familiar, magnetic. Wounded.
She caught him looking. No flinch. No embarrassment.
Only pain and defiance.
Long day? He asked, tilting his glass toward her.
“You could say that.’ Her voice was brittle.
“Three years just flushed down the toilet. Turns out I moved cities for a job and a man who couldn't stay faithful.”
Jackson winced. “Ouch.”
“Janet,” she added after a sip, “Marketing executive. Emotionally wrecked. Nice to meet you.”
He gave a small chuckle. “ Jackson. CEO. Emotionally unavailable. Cheers.”
To his surprise, she laughed- a real laugh, throat-deep laugh. And just like that, the heaviness in the room shifted.
They talked. For hours.
She shared everything: her heartbreak, her dreams, her fear of starting over. Jackson listened, really listened. Her honesty stripped away his defenses.
She wasn't like anyone he knew.
Bold. Broken. Real.
Eventually she glanced at him sideways.
“What about you? What is your sob story?”
He smiled faintly. “ I built a business from the ground up. I have more money than time. And some days, I feel like a ghost in my life.”
She gave him a long, searching look.
“That's worse than getting dumped.”
They laughed again.
When the bar closed she whispered, “ Let's not end the night here.
His penthouse was quiet. The city stretched out below them like stars caught in motion.
Janet stood by the window, arms folded.
“This view… it almost makes the world look gentle.”
Jackson stepped beside her. “You deserve to feel something good again.”
She turned to face him. “This is crazy, isn't it?”
He nodded. “But sometimes… crazy is exactly what we need.”
Their kiss was soft. Then slow. Then searching.
Clothes slipped away. Walls, emotional and otherwise, crumbled.
They made love like two people trying to breathe for the first time. It wasn't just passion, it was presence. A connection so unexpected, it almost scared him.
She fell asleep curled into him, her hand resting on his chest.
And in that moment, Jackson thought, maybe this woman could heal something I never admitted was broken.
But by morning…
She was gone.
No note. No trace.
Just her ID card on the nightstand.
He searched.
Hospitals. Agencies. Social media.
Then he heard the news that her entire family had perished in the Patterson family.
She was listed among the dead.
And from that day on, Jackson came to the grave every year.
To mourn.
To remember.
To hope, quietly, desperately, that she might still be alive.
UNKNOWN
Click.
Another photo.
“She is at the Patterson ruins.” The watcher muttered into the earpiece.
A pause. “But she is not alone.”
“Who is she with?”
The speaker on the other end asked.
“She is with Jackson.”
The watcher replied, looking intently at the duo from a distance.
“Hump. Why is she there? Find out more. Watch them. And don’t lose sight of her again.”
Click.
The transmission ended. But the watcher didn’t move. Just watched.
And took one last picture.
Of Emma, her eyes on the grave, her body still, her soul clearly not.
Whoever she was… she had Jackson’s attention.
And that made her dangerous.
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