Page 62 of With All My Haunted Heart

“I’m having a dance party with our roommates!” He executes a spin, shimmying his hips, and points out each ghost in turn. “The Jennifers are fabulous dancers. Which. Duh. They’ve been crashing proms since the nineties.” Xan’s gait is wobbly as he leans close to whisper the next bit. “I think Colton has a crush on Laney, but Laney refuses to dance with us.”

Over Xander’s shoulder, words appear on the original spirit board I made, now affixed to the wall in the foyer. In teal script, the cause of Xander’s drinking and dancing becomes clear.

Alex Looked Up an Ex on Social Media.

He Has a New Boyfriend.

“Oh, Xander, please tell me you didn’t.” When all I get is a confused look and the saddest puppy dog eyes I’ve ever seen, I grab his phone from the side table and pause the music.

“Hey!”

“You looked up Barrett’s socials?”

“How do you—” Xander whirls around and glares at the spirit board, his attention tracking what I can only assume is Laney’s retreat. “Tattletale.”

Elle reaches with gentle fingers to pull the glasses away from Xander’s face. “What happened?”

He downs another swig of wine and sets the heavy bottle on the table. “It’s stupid.”

“That doesn’t mean it can’t hurt.” Elle puts the glasses with the rest of the pile and takes Xander’s hands in hers, rubbing her thumbs along his knuckles. A smile quirks up the corner of her lips. “Don’t make me tickle the answers out of you, Alexander Owens. I know all your weaknesses.”

The tenderness of her teasing tugs at my heart. Seeing them together like this is both beautiful and aching. I want to be part of this world with them, but for the moment, it’s like I’m not needed at all.

Xander tips his head to rest against Elle’s and sighs, all the tension falling out of his body. “His photos are public. I could see everything from the browser.”

“And he’s dating someone new?” Elle waits for him to nod. “Well, fuck him. He never deserved you, Alex.”

“I know,” he says, but his voice lacks conviction. “What about you? How was…um…” Xander pulls back and glances from Elle to me.

“Pippa knows. We bumped into each other at the hospital today.” Elle turns her soft smile on me, and it bridges some of the longing in my chest. Like she’s welcoming me into this moment. “She’s agreed to help.”

Elation and relief brighten Xander’s face. “I told you she would,” he says before turning back to Elle. “And Willa? How was the MRI?”

A frown pinches Elle’s expression, and she glances away. “It’s not good,” she says, but she doesn’t elaborate further.

The somber mood infuses the room, and I turn the music back on. “I think Xan had the right idea,” I yell over the beat. “We need to dance off this day.”

So we do. We dance and sing and make absolute fools of ourselves in the foyer. Xander complains that all the ghost goggles are out of magical juice. I use the amplification sigil on the three of us to expand our dance party to eight. Well, six. Laney watches from their spot on the stairs, and Harry leans against the banister, only willing to tap his foot to the beat.

The Jennifers bump and grind to the music, crimped nineties hair swinging behind them. Xander’s hands find my hips. I spin Elle and pull her close. Her cheeks flush an adorable shade of pink, and for a moment, I think she’ll kiss me, right here in front of Xander, but she pulls away. Leaves me to dance with Colton and Jenn T. Moves her hips freely to the music in a way that has me desperate and wanting. She smirks, like she knows what she’s doing, but she doesn’t beckon me close again. She keeps her swiveling hips for the ghosts and for Xander and for herself.

For a few songs, we forget the things that are hard.

We forget about Barrett and his new beau.

We forget about MRI results and the brain cancer that will ultimately take Willa’s life.

I let myself forget Jackie and Marisol and their already cherished Rykelan. Forget the feeling of unconditional love, forget that it was the first time I’d felt such bright-burning care in my entire life.

But eventually, the music ends. Elle and I shuffle Xander upstairs and make him down a glass of water before he collapses in bed.

“I changed my mind. You should keep working on the ghost room,” Xander says as I tuck blankets up to his chin. “Dance parties will be easier if we can see everyone. The glasses don’t work long enough.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” I promise, brushing the hair out of his eyes. Elle has already excused herself, slipping into their adjoined bathroom and presumably continuing on to her own room from there. “Get some sleep. And no more social media stalking. You’re moving forward. Not back.”

He murmurs an agreement, already half asleep in his bed. I bend to kiss his cheek before slipping out of his room. In the hall, I pause, unsure where to go. I know Elle doesn’t want Xander to know about us, and tonight is further proof that she’s right, but we haven’t had a private moment since she got the MRI update. She shouldn’t have to be alone tonight unless she truly wants to be.

I approach Elle’s door, my hand poised to knock, when I hear it. The soft snuffling. The bitten-back, keening whine of grief. “Elle?” I call her name and reach for the door, but the handle won’t turn. I knock and call her name again.