The Ex-Wife (An Original Short Story)

It was two weeks ago when I saw my best friend for the first time in two years. She hasn’t changed even a bit. I wouldn’t have noticed her if not for her familiar scent – Lilies of the Valley – that had been her signature perfume since we were in middle school.

The scent was so strong that even when I hurriedly walked away from where she was, it is still in the air that I breathe. When I decided I've walked far enough, I finally stopped. She was still standing on the corner of the street, looking completely lost in oblivion. She wasn’t looking at me, and I don't think she even saw me at all. I eventually lost sight of her when a bunch of rowdy teenagers crossed the road in between us.

Since then, I see her almost everywhere I go – in the church, my favorite restaurant, in the park, even outside our house. I never mentioned this to my husband. She’s still his ex-wife after all, and I, of all people, should know what his reaction would be if he found out.

Not that I am bothered or what, but I thought it’s best for all of us if he didn’t know. I don’t want him to feel guilty or upset about what have happened to them before. He doesn’t deserve that.

We were having our dinner when I noticed that my husband is unusually silent. I wondered if he saw her too. It didn’t take long for me to confirm my suspicion.

As were finishing up our meal, he stared at me with confusion written all over his face, as he confessed that he saw her about a dozen times over the past two weeks.

"How did she find us?", he said in a resigned voice.

He saw her outside his office, in the parking lot, on the streets -- she seemed to be everywhere. I must admit that what he said had somehow triggered an alarm in my head.

Impossible.

The next day, I was lost in a trail of thoughts when I was interrupted by three loud knocks on the front door. I absent-mindedly opened it and froze completely when I found out who it was. I tried to scream but I couldn’t find my voice. I would have slammed the door shut if I could move.

She hasn’t changed even a bit. As I nervously inhaled her familiar scent – Lilies of the Valley – my best friend gave me her most horrifying grin.

After two weeks of avoiding her, there she stood, in exactly the same summer dress she was wearing
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…when we buried her alive.

~o~

Hello! It's been a while since I last posted a story. I hope you enjoy this one. Thanks!
Love. Love. Love.