Now that a dialogue had been established between them, Ella found herself more quizzical than ever. She wanted to know more. Who had he been in life? Did he perish in this house? What did he die of? When did he pass? But while she had a ton of questions, the specter remained fairly quiet. He seemed more pleased with just observing in silence.
Ella was disappointed that Cole wouldn't communicate more with her. But as she was feeling rather discouraged during her waking hours, except of course during the few minutes of seeing Officer Hawkins, her dream life was much more satisfying. The stranger in her dreams had still yet to speak, but now instead of simply sitting nearby and watching her sleep, he often caressed her face and once even lay on the bed beside her. She found herself so mesmerized by the mysterious guy who came to her in her sleep every night. Although he never conveyed it with his lips, the looks he gave her spoke volumes. He was captivated by her too; she could feel it in her bones. She longed so much to know who he was.
Due to her lusty nights, Ella usually arrived at work with a grin that she quickly learned her boss thought was because of him. "You look really beautiful when you smile like that," her boss, Truman, told her one morning in the breakroom.
"What? Oh... Thank you," she responded, caught off guard.
"I've noticed you coming in smiling like that for the past week," he added with a big grin of his own.
Truman was at least in his fifties, if not older. He had a burly, tousled mustache with ends that stretched down to his chin on both sides of his mouth. His normal attire consisted of a plaid shirt, unbuttoned at the top to expose his abnormally hairy chest and baggy jeans that exposed his butt crack when he bent over. He definitely wasn't God's gift to women by any definition, and she wasn't the least bit interested in him. But he was her boss. She couldn't be rude, so she grinned slightly in return to his wide, beaming, near toothless smile.
"I'm single, you know," he offered before exiting the room.
Ella immediately decided that if the subject came up again, she would tell him she wasn't ready to get involved with anyone just yet. Hopefully he wouldn't be too upset by the rejection. She definitely didn't want to lose her job over something so meaningless. She also silently vowed to try harder to contain her happiness.
It was just that it had been so long since she had been able to smile. In her old life, she had lived in a constant state of dread. She hadn't felt those types of emotions since first stepping foot on the property of her home, and she hoped they were gone for good.
Ella had accomplished a lot in the month since she had left her nightmarish existence and moved into her new home. She had taken a job in a community where everyone was a stranger; she had repainted and decorated the interior of her new home. She had even invested in a lawn mower. She enjoyed tending to the upkeep of her yard. She looked forward to making some barrels out of repurposed wood and planting flowers in them in the spring. She was content, finally, but that contentment was tested one Friday afternoon when she arrived home from work to find an envelope with a familiar handwriting in the mailbox.
Her name was scrawled on the front in her husband's handwriting, but her address had been written in someone else's. The return address was her old one in Surfside Beach. As she stared at the envelope, the keys and other mail in her hand dropped to the floor with a thud. Tears filled her eyes and began running down her cheeks. She became dizzy and fell back against the door before sliding down to the floor in a clump. "No!" she screamed.
Instantly, the temperature in the room dropped dramatically, and a figure appeared before her. She wiped her eyes and looked up in amazement. "It's you!" she blurted.
The good-looking visitor from her dreams now stood before her. He had a look of concern on his face as he knelt in front of her. "I'm Cole," he said at last.
A moment later, she fainted.