Page 20 of Ghost Of You

Heather and I split up just a week before I reunited with Laelia. Despite her undeniable beauty—one that could easily turn heads—her personality is a different matter. She’s always been a cheat and, in many ways, a gold digger. If I wasn't splurging on the latest luxury she desired or taking her to the upscale restaurants she deemed worthy, her interest faded.

I’ve poured countless hours and money into our relationship, choosing places she approves of and attending concerts we both enjoy. But for all my efforts, she’s rarely present. When she is around, it often means she’s involved in some new fling, leaving me as just another name on her list of conquests. Her betrayal cuts deep—not only emotionally but practically. She once slashed both tires of my motorbike in a fit of rage, and to top it off, she’s taken my favourite hoodie, a memento of better times now lost to her whims.

“Hi Killian!” she squeals, throwing her arms around me like I’m some kind of human teddy bear.

I awkwardly wiggle out of her embrace and look down, trying to muster a half-decent smile. “Hi…Heather,” I mumble, my enthusiasm matching that of a damp sock.

Heather beams as if she’s just won the lottery. “I had a feeling I’d run into you here! I know this is one of your favourite bands,” she says, practically vibrating with excitement.

“Well, I would love to say the same, but honestly, I was kind of hoping I wouldn’t run into you. Ever again,” I reply, not even bothering to mask my disinterest.

Heather’s smile doesn’t waver. She reaches out and squeezes my arm, her eyes glinting mischievously. “Oh, come on, Killian. What we had was special. And let’s not forget the… chemistry.” She bites her lip, her fingers trailing up my arm like a cat sizing up a particularly interesting piece of yarn.

I grab her wrist and gently but firmly drop it, making it clear I’m not up for a trip down memory lane—or anywhere near her for that matter.

Heather opens her mouth to say something else, but then her gaze shifts to someone standing behind me. Her face contorts into a look of distaste. “And you’re eavesdropping on our conversation, why?” she demands, her tone dripping with condescension.

I follow her gaze and turn to see Laelia standing there, her presence instantly brightening my mood like a personal sunrise.

“I was just wondering what was taking you so long, and now I see why,” Laelia says, her eyes locked on Heather with a look that could freeze lava.

Heather, not missing a beat, thrusts out her hand. “I’m Heather,” she announces with the kind of self-importance that could only come from someone who spends way too much time in the mirror.

Laelia barely glances at Heather. “And I’m uninterested,” she shoots back, her tone sharp enough to cut glass.

Heather’s face morphs into a sneer as she assesses Laelia from head to toe. “Well, whoever you are, you’re clearly not wanted here,” she says, turning back to me with a sickly sweet smile. “Now, where were we?”

Laelia doesn’t miss a beat. “You were about to leave and stop bothering my boyfriend,” she says firmly.

Heather’s laughter bursts forth, a harsh, incredulous sound. “He picked you over me? Talk about a downgrade.”

“If I were you, I’d take my leave now before I’m forced to make a new hat out of your hair extensions and shove them where the sun doesn’t shine, Hazel,” Laelia retorts.

“It’s Heather,” Heather corrects her, though it’s clear she’s rattled.

“Hazel, Heather, Bitch—it’s all the same to me. Now skedaddle and find someone who actually wants your attention. Maybe try the local care home; I hear they’re looking for some new entertainment,” Laelia says, her voice dripping with disdain.

Heather glares at me with a pout. “Killian, you’re not just going to stand there and let this… this tramp talk to me like that, are you?”

“Oh, I am actually. But if you’ll excuse me, Hazel,” I say, deliberately misnaming her. Her eyes widen in shock. “I mean, Heather.” I chuckle. “I’m off to enjoy the rest of the concert with a beer and, hopefully, without your company. I’m sure there’s a wealthy guy with an inflated ego somewhere who would love your attention. Good luck with that.”

I grab Laelia’s hand and we make our way towards the bar, eager to get away from the confrontation.

“Who was that?” Laelia asks, as we join another line.

“My ex, Heather Grayson,” I answer.

“She’s a peach,” Laelia mumbles, her tone laced with sarcasm.

“She’s a real piece of work,” I clarify.

“And you figured that out when?” Laelia giggles.

“As soon as I realised she wasn’t anything like you,” I say, squeezing her hand affectionately. “Laelia, you’re one in a million. No one could ever compare to how amazing or beautiful you are. And I love you more than I ever thought possible.”

Laelia’s cheeks flush a soft pink, and she bites her lip, clearly touched.

“I love you, too, Killian,” she says, leaning in for a kiss. Before I can even fully respond, she pulls away with a mischievous glint in her eye. “How about instead of a beer, we sneak off into the disabled toilets before the band starts? I’m sure we can find some time for ourselves before the show.”

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