Lisa lay awake that night, staring at her ceiling. The silence in the house felt different—almost alive. She could sense him just down the hall, the faint sound of his breaths and the occasional creak of the floorboards as he shifted in bed, adjusting to his borrowed life. Part of her was comforted by his presence, by the quiet certainty that he was close. But there was another part—a darker, unsettled part—that kept nagging her, whispering questions she wasn't ready to answer.
Did I make a mistake? Should I have just let him go?
She rolled onto her side, burying her face in her pillow, hoping the thoughts would dissolve. But they only intensified, creeping into her mind like shadows. She'd brought him back—yes, maybe out of love, but also out of a selfish, irrepressible curiosity. She'd wanted to test the boundaries of life and death, to push beyond what anyone else would dare. Now, with Liam lying just down the hall, she wondered if she'd pushed too far.
The next morning, she found him at the kitchen table, his face relaxed but blank, like he was trying to remember what it felt like to have thoughts. He looked up as she entered, his lips curving into the smile she'd taught him, though there was still something eerie about it, as if he were mimicking emotions rather than feeling them.
"Morning," he greeted, his voice soft and unsure.
"Morning," she replied, attempting a smile. She moved toward the coffee pot, feeling his gaze follow her. An awkward silence settled over them.
"Last night, I was… thinking," Liam began hesitantly. "About… everything. About what it means to be… here." He looked down at his hands, flexing his fingers as though he were still astonished by their movements. "It's strange, being back, but not… back."
Lisa's stomach tightened. His words were the echo of her own thoughts, the same unsettling realization she'd tried to push away. She forced a light tone. "Well, you're adjusting pretty fast, considering the circumstances."
He chuckled—a sound that sent a shiver down her spine. It wasn't Liam's laughter, not exactly. It was close, yet off, like a song played just slightly out of tune.
"You really believe that?" he asked, a hint of sorrow in his voice. His eyes, the same blue she remembered but dulled somehow, met hers. "Do you think I should be here?"
Her heart pounded. She hadn't expected him to ask so bluntly, so soon. But the intensity of his gaze held her, as if he needed an answer to ground himself, to justify his existence.
"I…" she began, struggling with the words. "I missed you, Liam. I… couldn't let you go."
He watched her, his expression unreadable, yet a flicker of something human—sadness, maybe—crossed his face. "I don't remember much… but I know it felt peaceful, Lisa. Like everything had finally… settled."
Her heart ached at his words, a pang of guilt weaving through the warmth she'd felt at his return. The Liam she knew would have said those words in a heartbeat, selfless even in death. The realization hit her, sharp and unyielding: she had taken that peace away from him.
"Do you regret it?" he asked, his voice almost a whisper.
The question sliced through her, leaving her exposed. She hesitated, feeling her throat tighten. "I don't… regret having you here," she said finally, her voice wavering. "But… I don't know if I was right to do it."
They sat in silence, each lost in their own tangled thoughts. But then, as if to break the spell, Liam reached across the table, his hand brushing hers. His touch was cold, a reminder of the distance between them, yet she found herself clinging to it, craving the connection they once shared.
"I'm here now," he murmured. "I don't know why or how, but… I am."
A weak smile formed on her lips. "Then maybe we should make the most of it," she replied, trying to sound braver than she felt.
They spent the day together, though the air was heavy with unspoken tension. She tried teaching him other habits, little things to help him blend in. He'd mastered holding a cup properly, even though he still tended to stare at his drink as though expecting it to do something magical. He was learning, bit by bit, how to exist in a world that no longer felt natural to him.
Yet each laugh, each small success, was tinged with a bittersweetness that Lisa couldn't ignore. Her mind kept wandering back to his question, to the guilt twisting in her stomach. Had she been right to pull him from peace just to satisfy her longing?
Later, as dusk settled over the town, they walked along the edge of the forest. Liam's fingers brushed against hers, a tentative gesture that stirred something deep within her, despite the icy touch. She squeezed his hand, feeling an odd mix of comfort and dread.
"I think…" she began, her voice barely above a whisper, "I think I brought you back because I didn't know how to let you go."
He looked at her, a shadow crossing his face. "And now?"
"I don't know," she admitted, her heart heavy. "Sometimes… I wonder if I should have."
They stopped, the silence between them charged, the weight of her confession lingering in the air. But instead of pulling away, Liam's hand tightened around hers.
"You've always been… curious, Lisa," he said with a small, sad smile. "It's what I loved about you. Maybe… maybe that's why I'm here. Because you needed to see it through."
She felt tears prick at her eyes, an overwhelming mix of regret, longing, and love swirling within her. His words were a comfort, but they didn't erase the doubt gnawing at her. She wanted to believe him, to believe that somehow, her actions could be justified. But the shadows clinging to him were reminders of the line she had crossed, of the life she'd disrupted.
As they stood beneath the darkening sky, she felt a chill run through her. There was something haunting about his presence, yet she couldn't bring herself to let go. The fear, the regret, the guilt—none of it could erase her attachment to him, the deep, unexplainable bond that tethered them together.
But as they made their way back to her house, she couldn't shake the feeling that something was watching, something lurking in the darkness beyond. It was as if her actions had disturbed not only Liam's peace but something else, something that didn't belong in the world of the living.
They reached her doorstep, and Liam hesitated, casting a last look over his shoulder toward the forest.
"Do you feel it too?" he asked, his voice barely audible.
Lisa swallowed, a shiver running through her. "Yes," she whispered.
They shared a look, both aware of the silent presence that seemed to follow them, a reminder of the cost of what they'd done.