A Change of Heart by Sonali Dev

didn’t answer him.
    â€œYou don’t know?” How stupid did she think he was? She knew all this, but the one thing that only Jen would know, that was the one thing she didn’t know. “Do I have ‘I’m an ass’ tattooed across my forehead? Who sent you? Who do you work for?”
    â€œI told you, I don’t work for anyone. This is about Jen. She can’t move on until you do this, and she won’t leave me alone until you do.” For someone who was admitting to being haunted she was so damn calm.
    He pushed off the cold metal and stood. “So, you’re what, Mother Teresa?” He started down the stairs like he should have done before she started spewing her lies.
    â€œIf I could make her go away, don’t you think I would? Don’t you think I’ve tried? But I can’t. The only one who can end this is you, Nikhil. I need my life back. Please.”
    He spun around and faced her, still sitting on that top step, the red hair swirling around her face. “I don’t care. I don’t care what you need. I don’t give a rat’s ass about your life.”
    The rage that flashed in her eyes was so hot it matched his. He was about to turn away again, but she blinked and blanketed it so fast behind such dead calm he was mesmerized by it.
    â€œI’m not asking you to care about me,” she said. There was no more bleeding sympathy, just that unearthly calm. “But this is about your wife. You care about her, don’t you? Because she happened to believe you would pull out your limbs for her.” She waited for him to react, to answer. But if he had any damn answers he wouldn’t be here floating on an ocean, wanting nothing more than to be left alone.
    Actually, that wasn’t all he wanted. But what he did want fell under the category of Fucking Miracle.
    And she knew it. She had used it to shovel bullshit down his throat for long enough. He ran down the stairs. But there was no escape. The stairs creaked behind him. “How? How don’t you care? How can you listen to what I’m telling you and not want to do anything? How can you stand there and pretend to be broken about her, when—”
    He was on her in an instant, his hands on her shoulders. “Pretend? This look like pretense to you? Or can you feel only dead people, but live ones, they’re just here for you to mess with. Why don’t you go ask Jen how I pretended to love her? Do it now. Conjure her up. Do it,” he hissed into her face.
    She grabbed the railing with both hands and stuck out her jaw as if she was determined not to be scared. As if she was the victim here.
    The fragile bones in her shoulders poked into his palms and he let her go. But he didn’t step back. “What’s she doing right now? What’s she wearing? Let me guess. White robes? Is she transparent? Does she walk through walls and disappear into thin air?”
    â€œI told you it’s not like—”
    â€œWhat about her face? What about her eyes? What does she look like? Like her innards don’t fit anymore? Like there’s no space inside, because she’s a skeleton who can’t get any food down her gullet? No, don’t look at me like you understand. You don’t get to give me that look.”
    â€œNikhil . . .”
    â€œOh, I’m sorry, you said she floats into you. Becomes one with you. So, will I feel her if I touch you?” He grabbed her again, pulled her into him, her mouth so close he tasted the wetness of it. “If I put my tongue in your mouth will I forget my name? Will I fucking know what—Shit.”
    She was shaking, her eyes wild with terror. He let her go and she fell back, landing on her butt, and buried her face in her hands. But only for a second. When she looked up the terror she’d let slip was gone, blanketed with that calm again.
    But he’d recognized it. Seen it in another set of eyes that would