Page 9 of The Neighborhood Witch

“So, why do you still wear the ring? It gives off the wrong impression if you’re looking to meet someone.”

Hugo took another sip of water and placed the glass behind his plate, stalling to find the right words. He cupped his right hand around his left. He held the ring between his index finger and thumb, rotating the black onyx band.

“The ring has never left my hand since I put it on,” Hugo replied as he focused on the ring. “I… I can’t bring myself to take it off. We knew each other since we were kids. We went to college together. If I take it off, then that means it’s over.”

“I can’t even begin to imagine what you’re going through.”

Hugo glared at the empty table in the corner at the front of the restaurant. “No one does.”

“Do you have any kids?”

“Just a dog.”

“I don’t even want to think about what it would be like if you had kids involved,” Sarah said, trying to reassure Hugo.

Hugo’s eyes fixated on their usual table. The dim lighting attempted to obscure it, but his eyes found it. He fought against the vision. Each moment he fixated on the table drew out the ghosts of the second worstnight of his life.

“I was thinkingwe could try again, since it’s been six months since your last treatment.” Hugo smiled at Elizabeth. “Wouldn’t it be nice to finally have a little Max or Maxine running around the house?”

Elizabeth gave Hugo a half smile before concentrating on her plate. The hair from her auburn wig fell in front of her face to shield her from his gaze. She pushed the fist-sized meatball and spaghetti noodles around her plate. His smile slowly receded into terror. His face turned pale. He extended his arms across the table and placed his hands over hers.

“Is everything okay? Did I say something wrong?”

Elizabeth placed the fork down and brushed the frizzy hair back behind her ears. She slowly raised her head and locked eyes with Hugo. Her eyes watered. The white of her eyes turned a pinkish red color. A single tear escaped and left a trail down her face. “I wasn’t going to say anything until later.”

“Oh, God,” Hugo blurted out as he fell back in his chair. His heart skipped a beat. He forced himself to take a breath as his throat tightened.

“I wanted one more meal,” Elizabeth explained, “where it felt normal.”

“No. No. No,” Hugo pleaded.

“I wasn’t feeling well, so I called the doctor—”

Hugo shook his head in disbelief.

“They—” her voice trailed off as she failed to find the next words.

Hugo leapt from his chair. The chair rocked and fell over. She buried her head into his chest as Hugo wrapped his arms around her. Hugo squeezed her tightly, trying to let her know it would be okay. He loosened his hold to avoid hurting her. She squeezed his torso as hard as possible, but he didn’t care. He kissed her on the forehead, then rested his forehead against hers.

“It’ll be okay,” Hugo assured her. “It’ll be okay.”

“They want to start again as soon as possible.”

“It’ll be okay. We beat it once before. We can do it again. Together.”

“I love you, Hugo,” she mustered through the tears.

“I love you too, Elizabeth.”

“Two ordersof spaghetti and my world famous meatballs,” a man with a thick Italian accent said from behind Hugo as he placed the plates on the table. “They’re world famous because people in Italy know about ‘em.”

The room spun. Hugo’s head throbbed, and sweat rolled down his back. A hot wave pulsated through his body. His eyes watered, but he wiped them before any tears could flow. It took Hugo a moment to regain his bearings.

“Everything okay?” Sarah asked.

“Fine. I’m fine,” Hugo responded. “It’s just been a long day.”

Antonio was an older gentleman in his late 60s. Short, slightly overweight, and balding on top with longish black and gray hair on the sides and back. The smell of cheap cologne overpowered Hugo’s nose. Antonio always had a smile on his face and wore a nice suit.

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