Twisted Fate: Second Chance Heiress

Chapter 20: Haunted

~Robert’s POV~

A cold sweat slicked my skin as I thrashed against the silk sheets. I was running, but my legs felt like lead, each stride sinking me deeper into a viscous, crimson mire.

The air was thick with the scent of rain and burned rubber, a symphony of screeching metal and splintering glass echoing in my ears. Ahead, a figure emerged from the swirling blackness.....a ghost of a woman with a tear streaked face.

It was Melissa.

Standing barefoot on the rain slicked asphalt, her torn dress clinging to her blood soaked skin. Her face....God her face is shredded with cuts, glass embedded along her cheek like a grotesque crown. Her eyes glow faintly, fixed on me with a feral sharpness.

“You did this, Robert,” her voice was a chilling whisper, like the rustle of dead leaves. “You pushed me away. You’re the reason I died.”

I tried to scream her name, to explain, to apologize, but the words were a dry ache in my throat.

“I blame you, Robert! Why couldn’t you love me?” she cried, her form dissolving and reforming in the darkness. “You'll never have any peace.”

I lunged for her, desperate to touch her, to tell her how sorry I was, but my hands passed through her like smoke.

The ground beneath me gave way, and I plummeted into a dark abyss, the crimson mire now a swirling, suffocating pool of blood. I thrashed, fighting against the suffocating liquid, but it clung to me, pulling me down, like quick sand.

The last thing I saw before the darkness consumed me was Melissa’s face, a look of sorrowful condemnation etched in her eyes, her blood streaked smile almost mocking.

“Nooooo!”

I jolted awake, my scream a ragged gasp that ripped through the quiet of the opulent bedroom. My chest heaved as I sat bolt upright, my breath coming in shallow, frantic bursts. I felt trapped, the familiar dread of the nightmare clinging to me like a second skin.

I fumbled for the glass of water on my nightstand, knocking it once before finally clutching it. My hand trembled so violently that the ice clinked against the glass.

I brought it to my lips, gulping down the cool liquid.....greedily, to soothe my parched throat and quell the frantic pounding of my heart.

“Three years…” I whisper hoarsely into the darkness. For three f*****g years, the same damn nightmare had haunted me....a relentless loop of regret and torment.

I’d tried everything, pills to force me into a deep sleep, sessions with countless therapists who lectured me on guilt and grief, even hypnotism.

Nothing worked.

If anything, the dreams only grew more vivid, more aggressive, and more frequent. I ran a hand over my face, the clammy sweat a stark contrast to the chilled air conditioning.

I’d built a life that looked perfect from the outside.....a successful business, a beautiful home, a woman who adored me. But inside, I was a hollowed out man, haunted by a ghost I’d helped create.

I blamed myself. I couldn't shake the feeling that if I hadn't turned my back on Melissa, if I hadn't been so cruel that night, things would have been different. I hadn't had a single ounce of peace since her death, the nightmare a constant companion, pulling me down every single day.

A rustle of sheets beside me broke my reverie. Jodie stirred, with her hair now tousled, silk nightgown slipping dangerously off her shoulder. A soft groan escaping her lips, just before her eyes fluttered open. Her brows furrowed in annoyance as she took in my disheveled state.

“Again?” she asked, her voice heavy with sleep and a familiar weariness. The single word held a world of frustration.

“What do you think?” I retorted, my voice raspy. The response was a confirmation of the nightly ritual we had both grown to resent.

Jodie’s annoyance morphed into a full blown meltdown. She sat up, her eyes blazing with an anger I knew all too well. “I don't get it, Robert! You're still in love with her, aren't you?” she accused, her voice rising to a shrill pitch.

“With a ghost! I'm literally competing with a dead woman!”

I avert my head toward her, voice sharp. “Don’t start.”

“Oh, I will start!” she explodes, throwing her hands up in the air in a dramatic gesture.

“Every night, for three years, you cry out her name in your sleep. Melissa, Melissa, Melissa! Do you know how that makes me feel? I’m the one here, the one who loves you, the one who’s had to listen to you scream for her every single night. It’s a constant reminder that you’re not over her!”

My temper, already frayed from the nightmare, snapped. “What the hell do you want me to do, Jodie? What do you expect?” I shot back, my voice low and dangerous. “We’ve had this same damn argument for years! You’re jealous of someone who's already dead! I have no control over my nightmares!”

I ran a hand through my hair, my frustration mounting with every word. “I’m about to marry you! Don’t you think that proves something? I chose you! I'm here with you, not with her!”

I wanted her to understand, to see the torment I was living through, but she just continued to taunt me, her face twisted with a mix of fury and hurt. “I don't know what to think anymore, Robert! You’re a ghost yourself, trapped in the past with a dead woman! I deserve better than to live with a man who loves a memory more than he loves me!”

A searing migraine began to throb behind my eyes. I couldn't take it anymore. I swung my legs over the side of the bed, the mattress shifting with my movement. Without another word, I walked towards the door.

“Robert! Where are you going?” Jodie’s voice was a desperate cry behind me. “Come back here, Robert!”

But I don’t.

I slam the door behind me, leaning against it for a long moment. My chest rises and falls, the silence broken only by her muffled sobs on the other side. Guilt creeps in, insidious and sharp, but I shove it down.

I walk the dim hallway until I reach my home office. The smell of leather and cedar greets me, familiar and grounding. I head straight for the mini bar, pouring myself two fingers of bourbon, the amber liquid catching the faint glow of the desk lamp.

The burn steadies me, a welcome distraction from the turmoil in my mind.

Dropping into my chair, I press my palms against my eyes, massaging the migraine that claws at me. “Goddamn it…” I whisper into the emptiness.

I feel bad for Jodie, I do. She doesn’t understand. How could she? She sees me strong, composed, in control....the perfect Mondragon heir in public. But she doesn’t see how I’m unraveling in private. Slowly losing my mind, one nightmare at a time.

The silence stretches, heavy.

Finally, with a bitter sigh, I reach into the lower drawer of my desk. My hand trembles slightly as I pull out a small framed photo, hidden away from every eye but mine.

Melissa. In her wedding gown.

Her smile tentative but radiant, as though she still held hope that day. Me beside her, stiff but present. A man fulfilling duty, not desire.

I trace the outline of her face with my thumb.

“Why?” I whisper to the empty room. “Why you, Melissa? Why won’t you leave me in peace?”

The bourbon swirls in my glass. The photo blurs behind the wetness in my eyes I refuse to let fall.

A ghost I never loved, and yet....even in death, she holds me tighter than anyone alive ever could.

I didn't have the answer, and in the quiet of my office, with the weight of her ghost on my shoulders, I knew I never would.