The Ghost on Death Row

My Ex-Boyfriend on Death Row. The following winter, I bumped into him at a local grocery store. "You're not dead?" He raised an eyebrow. "Wishing me into the grave already?" 1 When I first saw Liam by the shelves, I thought my mind was playing a cruel trick on me. "What, don't even recognize your own man anymore?" I ignored him. I bit my lip hard. Before I could even process what was happening, Liam naturally grabbed my right hand. He pulled me a couple of steps forward, his other hand hovering over the shelf as he turned to ask me, "Smooth or ribbed? Strawberry or mint?" His tone was so casual, it was as if we had never been apart. I pinched my thigh. Hard. It hurt. This wasn't a dream! Finally snapping out of my shock, I violently shook off his hand. "Why are you here?!" "Where else would I be? Who was the one whining about being too sore to walk last night, demanding a piggyback ride out of the apartment?" He tapped his lower back. "You completely wrecked my back, and you'll be the one crying about it later." I froze again. Liam was talking about five years ago. Back then, we had just started dating and were completely in the honeymoon phase. If he kept me up all night, I'd stubbornly make him carry me on his back the next day. But those sweet days were years behind us. Why was Liam suddenly standing here, saying these bizarre, time-warped things? I still don't know how I ended up letting him follow me home. Maybe it was because his transition back into my life felt so seamless. Everything he did felt so natural that it temporarily scrambled my own memories. It wasn't until we walked through my front door and the faint scent of baby formula hit my nose that reality crashed over me. By then, Liam had already wrapped his arms around my waist from behind. His hands wandered, and he squeezed slightly, sounding confused. "Did these get bigger? Did those massages actually work?" Smack! I slapped his hands away, my face burning crimson. Liam wasn’t mad. He just chuckled, swept me off my feet, and threw me over his shoulder, heading straight for the bedroom. I was completely panicked. My only thought was: He absolutely cannot go in that bedroom. "Liam!" I screamed, thrashing wildly. "Put me down!" Sensing my genuine panic, he set me down. He looked at me standing defensively in front of the closed bedroom door. "What, you hiding a dog in there?" I was sweating from the nerves. Liam’s face darkened. "Move." I let out a shaky breath. "Liam, we broke up." "Say that again. I dare you." I'd known him for eight years. I knew his temper inside and out. When his voice dropped to that dangerous, quiet timber, he was on the brink of exploding. I bit my lip and repeated it. "We broke up. Years ago. And based on the timeline... you should be dead right now." Liam finally realized something was horribly wrong. He looked around. This wasn't my cramped college apartment; the modern decor was entirely different. And looking at me, the youthful, naive glow of my early twenties was gone. His voice went hoarse. "What year is it?" "2022." He grabbed me, pulling me flush against his chest. "Are you messing with me?" I just stared back at him. Slowly, his expression twisted into something haunted. Finally, he whispered, "Impossible. No matter what year it is, I would never, ever break up with you." I lowered my eyes. "But I'm married." The room fell into a suffocating silence. Through his bloodshot eyes, I could see the storm of emotions raging inside him. He used every ounce of his willpower to hold himself back, gritting his teeth as he asked, "Chloe... did you just calculate that I wouldn't have the heart to hurt you?" "You're dead, Liam." "Fuck!" He kicked the wall, turned around, and stormed out. I waited until he was completely gone before I slowly slid down the bedroom door, curling into a tight ball on the floor. My mind was a chaotic mess. I never thought I'd see him again. And definitely not like this. The bedroom door opened from the inside. My nanny peeked out. "Chloe, was that..." I shook my head. She got the hint and didn't pry. "Well, at least little Maya didn't wake up." I looked at my daughter, sleeping peacefully in her crib, and my heart rate slowly returned to normal. Whether Liam faked his death, time-traveled, or came back as a ghost—I didn't care. I couldn't risk letting him near Maya. And I never wanted her to know that her father was a convicted felon. 2 Maybe my words really got to him, because for days, he didn't show up again. But he haunted my dreams. I dreamed of the high school bad boy in a leather jacket, slouching as he followed me home; I dreamed of the desperate Liam, eyes red after I rejected his first confession, yelling, "You don't have a damn heart!"; And I dreamed of the idiot Liam who sprinted to my dorm at 3 A.M. on graduation night just to make sure my "yes" to being his girlfriend wasn't a prank. All those beautiful memories, shattered by the echo of a firing squad. I'd wake up gasping, my pillow soaked in tears. On Monday, I was commuting to work in a daze when I encountered a creep on the subway. The train was packed, and I felt a hand grope my thigh. I whipped around to see a middle-aged guy giving me a greasy, unapologetic smirk, clearly betting I’d be too scared to make a scene. Just as I opened my mouth to scream at him, a heavy work boot shot out from nowhere and planted itself squarely into the guy's ribs. "Where the fuck do you think your hands are going? You think you can touch what's mine?" Then, I saw him. Liam's mouth was curled into an arrogant smirk, but his eyes were absolute ice. The vein at his temple was throbbing—the exact look he always had right before he destroyed someone. The kick was brutal. The creep crumpled to the floor. It took the guy a solid minute to scramble up. He looked like he wanted to argue, but one look at Liam's murderous aura had him muttering under his breath and bolting for the next car. Liam never had a good temper, especially when it came to me. Seeing him step forward to chase the guy, and noticing a passenger pulling out a phone to record, I panicked and grabbed his arm. "Don't. Let him go." He raised an eyebrow. "Scared? I'm right here." I was scared because he was here! If the cops got involved, how the hell was I supposed to explain this? “Sorry, Officer, he didn't do anything wrong, he's just a dead inmate who resurrected to fight subway gropers.” We'd be on the national news. The current Liam still didn't know how he supposedly died. And I had no intention of telling him. I just wanted a quiet life. And I wanted him to stay out of trouble. "You taught him a lesson, that's enough. Besides, you don't need to fight my battles anymore." "I don't? Fine. Let your 'husband' do it then." Liam leaned against the subway doors, crossing his arms. "Since you're so happily married, when do I get to meet the lucky guy?" Maybe it was my imagination, but he seemed almost amused. "He's out of town on business," I deflected. "He doesn't have time." "Perfect. I'll just keep playing the role until he gets back." He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Because on my timeline, sweetheart, we are very much still together." I thought he was just talking trash. But the next evening, I walked into my apartment complex and saw a man in a security uniform leaning against the front gate. It was Liam. He strolled over with that signature swagger. "Temperature check, ma'am." I didn't offer my wrist. "What are you doing?" "Working, obviously." Working, my ass! When I just glared at him, he smirked. "Miss, please cooperate with building security." I ground my teeth and reluctantly held out my hand. He actually pulled out a thermometer gun and beeped my wrist. "98.6. perfectly normal. Have a good evening." He was just going to let me go? I walked a few steps away, feeling completely unsettled. I couldn't help but look back. Liam’s gaze was burning into my back. When our eyes met, his smirk widened into a full-blown grin. I practically sprinted to my building, feeling like I'd touched a hot stove. My heart was pounding. I had a sinking feeling that my secrets weren't going to stay hidden for long. 3 The staff directory at the front gate had been updated. There was a new photo under the security guard section. Walking past it a few days later, I glanced at it. It was Liam—jaw clenched, looking annoyed at having his picture taken. But when I looked at the name underneath, I froze. "Ethan Miller." I thought I misread it. I stepped closer. No, it clearly said Ethan Miller. "Excuse me, is this name tag wrong?" I asked a property manager walking by, pointing at Liam's photo. She smiled. "Nope! That's Ethan, our new hire. Good-looking kid, right?" Something clicked in my brain, and a chill ran down my spine. If Liam really had "time-traveled" from five years ago, with no knowledge of the future, why would he be using a fake name? I couldn't shake the unease, but I tried to push it out of my mind. That night, just as I stepped out of the shower, the power went out. Maya, who had been playing in her crib, started screaming in the pitch black. The nanny had already gone home. Panicking, I called the front desk. "We'll send security up to check your breaker right away, ma'am." Liam worked the day shift. Surely it wouldn't be him. When the knock came, I bounced Maya on my hip and opened the door. "Hi, the power just—" I stopped dead. I was staring right at Liam. Well, technically, we were staring at each other. All three of us. Liam didn't say a word. His eyes were locked onto the baby in my arms. His voice was terrifyingly raspy when he finally pointed at her. "What is that?" "A b-baby," I stammered. Liam let out a hollow, bitter laugh. "Chloe, I've only been 'dead' for a year." The apartment was suffocatingly dark. Strangely enough, Maya stopped crying the second she saw him. With tears still clinging to her eyelashes, she stared at him with big, curious eyes. She even reached a chubby little hand out toward him, wanting to be held. The dark aura surrounding Liam softened just a fraction. "Whose is she?" he croaked. "I told you. I'm married." "Married my f—" He caught himself before swearing in front of the baby. He let out a harsh exhale. "I'll deal with you later." He pushed past me with his toolbox. "Where's the breaker box?" He was actually here to fix the electricity. Liam was incredibly handy; I knew that from college. Once, my roommate spilled water on my laptop. A repair shop quoted me $400 I didn't have. Liam had just clamped a cigarette between his teeth, taken the whole thing apart, and fixed it for free. I'd been so nervous watching him. "Are you sure you know what you're doing?" He had just side-eyed me. "If I break it, I'll buy you a new one." He fixed it perfectly. And my roommate stopped complaining about me dating a "dropout." My mind had drifted so far I didn't hear him calling my name. "What?" I blinked. "I said, step back. I'm covered in dust." Only then did I realize that Maya had leaned over and was actively smacking Liam's face, giggling uncontrollably. "Oh, sorry!" I quickly pulled her back. Liam clamped a flashlight between his teeth and went back to the wires, ignoring us. Maya, however, was furious at being pulled away. Her lower lip wobbled, and she started wailing. It was past her bedtime, and she was getting cranky. She rubbed her eyes and tugged at my shirt. I had no choice. I glanced at Liam—he was fully focused on the electrical panel. So, I sat on the edge of the couch in the dark, pulled down my top, and started nursing her. Maya happily kicked her little legs, finally settling down. A few minutes later, the lights blazed back to life. "It was a short circuit, tripped the main breaker. I just—" Liam turned around and stopped dead in his tracks. He stared at me, completely losing his train of thought. I hadn't expected him to fix it that fast. My face flushed hot as lava. "I... she..." I stammered, afraid to make any sudden movements to cover myself. His voice dropped a full octave. "I'm gonna go wash my hands." He bolted for the bathroom. I looked down at a blissfully fed Maya and sighed. Both of them were going to be the death of me. 4 Once Maya was asleep, it was just the two of us in the living room. Liam instinctively reached for his pockets for a cigarette, remembered where he was, and stopped. "I'm moving in tomorrow." The sheer audacity of his tone threw me off. "No, you aren't. And she's not your kid." "Do you think I don't know how a paternity test works?" My heart skipped a beat. I wanted to deny it, but I was terrified he'd actually force a test. My hesitation was all the confirmation he needed. A triumphant smile spread across his face. "Chloe, I'm already missing five years of memories. Don't play me." I didn't know who was playing who anymore. But letting him move in was impossible. I hadn't even figured out how to face him, let alone live with him. With Maya in the picture, I couldn't take risks. Desperate, I made a phone call. The next morning, Liam was waiting downstairs again. He was in regular clothes, looking as irritatingly handsome as ever. A couple of female residents were lingering nearby, clearly trying to flirt with him. Seeing me, he strode over. "I'll give you a ride." "No need," I said, avoiding his gaze. "My husband is back." Right on cue, a sleek black Mercedes pulled up to the curb. The door opened, and Oliver stepped out. He was dressed in an immaculate tailored suit. He walked right past Liam as if he were invisible and smiled at me. "Waiting long?" "No, I just got down." Before getting in the car, I took a deep breath and turned to Liam. "I told you. I'm married. Please... just leave me alone." I got in before he could react. Watching the rearview mirror, Liam's figure grew smaller and smaller until he disappeared. "Regrets?" Oliver handed me a tissue. I realized my cheeks were wet. "No. Thank you for doing this, Oliver." I told myself I was making the right choice. As we pulled up to my office building, Oliver stopped me before I got out. "Chloe, let's get married for real." I thought I misheard him. "Excuse me?" "Let's make it official. Even with Maya." Oliver wasn't just my boss; he was my savior. When Liam vanished and I found out I was pregnant, my conservative family disowned me for refusing an abortion. Oliver had hired me, mentored me, and protected me from the vicious office gossip. We had a mutually beneficial arrangement: I acted as his fake girlfriend to keep his wealthy family from forcing him into blind dates, and he gave me a safe harbor. But I never expected this. "That guy this morning is the father, right?" Oliver asked calmly. "Since you clearly don't want to get back together, and he won't let it go, marrying me is the smartest move. I can provide for both of you." I wasn't a naive twenty-year-old anymore. I didn't delude myself into thinking a billionaire CEO was swooning over a single mom. "Can I ask why?" "I've grown fond of you," Oliver said smoothly. "And I adore Maya. Plus... due to a medical condition, I can't have children of my own." That, I hadn't expected. "I'm sorry," I said softly. He smiled. "Not your fault. Don't give me an answer now. Just think about it." I actually did think about it. Oliver was stable, wealthy, and kind. If he truly couldn't have kids, he would treat Maya like his own. It was the logical, safe choice. When I got home that evening, Liam was at the gate again. He looked grim—probably having bought the "husband" lie. But that night, just after Maya fell asleep, my phone vibrated. An unknown number. I picked it up. No one spoke, just heavy breathing on the other end. I sat up in bed. I knew exactly who it was. Neither of us said a word. The silence stretched until he finally spoke. "Chloe... do you really not want me anymore?" "Are you drunk?" He ignored the question. "What do I do? I don't think I have a home anymore." That single sentence shattered all my defenses. Liam's parents had messy divorces and abandoned him. He lived alone since high school. Nobody craved a family more than he did. Then, I heard a sharp intake of breath over the receiver. My chest tightened. Was he crying? Liam never cried. My throat went dry. "Where are you?" "Downstairs." I looked out the window and saw him sitting on the curb under a streetlight. I knew I was weak. Because when he whispered, "I want to see you," I heard myself say: "Come up." 5 The moment I unlocked the door, it was like letting a starving wolf into the house. He pinned me against the wall and kissed me like a dying man gasping for air. Every instinct screamed at me to push him away, but Liam always knew exactly how to dismantle my logic. My mind went blank, leaving only muscle memory and desire. The living room was a mess. Lying in the moonlight, I could see the smug curve of his lips. "The husband thing was a lie, wasn't it?" Looking at his triumphant face, I saw absolutely zero evidence that he had been crying. I realized I'd been played. Embarrassed and furious, I shoved his shoulder. "Do we have to talk about this right now?!" He laughed softly. "Nope." Just before I drifted off to sleep, I felt him kiss my forehead. "I'm sorry, baby," he whispered. When I woke up, I was alone in bed. Panic seized me when I saw Maya's crib was empty. I bolted into the living room, only to stop dead in my tracks. Liam was sitting on the playmat, zooming a toy car through the air. Maya was reaching for it, shrieking with pure joy. The scene was so domestic, so overwhelmingly perfect, it knocked the breath out of me. Liam looked up and smiled. "Look, Maya, Mommy's awake." Maya babbled and crawled toward me as fast as her little limbs could carry her, demanding to be picked up. Once she was in my arms, Liam stood up and headed for the kitchen. "Her name is Maya?" "Yeah." He paused for a fraction of a second, then seamlessly opened the fridge. "I'll make us some breakfast." It proved that once you gave Liam an inch, he would conquer the entire continent. Like a cockroach surviving a nuclear blast, he had successfully infiltrated my life. First, I found men's underwear mixed in with my laundry. Then I found his socks in my drawers. Today, I found two of his jackets hanging in my closet. I threw the jackets at his chest. "I don't recall asking you to move in." He caught them with a grin. "Just leaving a few things for emergencies." "We don't have emergencies. Take them back." He had been teaching Maya how to walk, bent over with his arms out like a protective hen. He stood up straight. "Look, Chloe. I told you, we never broke up. If someone hurt you during those five years I was 'gone,' give me a name and I'll end them. But stop taking it out on a law-abiding citizen like me." Law-abiding citizen? Please. While we were bickering, Maya tripped over her own feet and landed hard on her diaper-padded butt. Because Liam had been spoiling her rotten, she immediately felt slighted. Her lower lip jutted out, and she let out a theatrical wail. Liam scooped her up, cooing sympathetically. "Is Mommy being mean? Trying to kick Daddy out?" He shot me a dirty look. "Stop trying to destroy this family in front of the kid. Look how traumatized she is." Me? Destroying the family?! That night, to punish me for trying to kick him out, he refused to let me sleep. "Chloe, we've only been together twice since I got back. For a man in his prime, this is basically starvation." I wanted to cover my face. "Do you have no shame?" "Only with you." He picked me up and carried me to the sofa. He didn't turn on the lights, but in the pale moonlight, as he leaned over me, I saw it. Right over his left chest. A perfectly round, jagged scar. It looked exactly like a bullet wound. 6 Liam was hiding something massive. I knew that now. He used a fake name. He had a bullet hole near his heart. Things were pointing toward the worst-case scenario. Honestly, I preferred the delusion that he had just time-traveled. At least that was safe. But the next day at work, Oliver called me into his office. "Have you thought about my proposal?" I had almost forgotten. "Oliver, I think..." He cut me off. "You're hesitating." I was. Oliver tapped his pen against the desk, his eyes calculating. "Actually, there's something I'm very curious about. Maybe you can enlighten me. How exactly does a dead man walk back out of a grave?" My blood ran ice cold. My mind went entirely blank. I forced a confused smile. "I have no idea what you're talking about." "Relax, I'm just curious," Oliver smiled smoothly. "But seriously, you should consider the marriage. Maya is young. If something... unfortunate were to happen, it would be a shame for you to face it alone." I walked out of his office with my heart hammering against my ribs. That was a threat. If he hadn't said that, I might not have suspected anything. But now, the pieces were clicking together in a terrifying way. Oliver was incredibly wealthy. He was handsome. Even if he couldn't have biological children, women would line up to marry him. Why fixate on me? Why stoop to threatening me? His interest in me wasn't about love. It was about Liam. That afternoon, I went to the bank and withdrew every cent of my savings. Before Liam had vanished years ago, he left me a massive sum of money. I never touched it because I didn't know where it came from. Combined with my own savings, it was enough for Maya and me to disappear to a quiet town out of state. When Liam got home, I looked at him. "Liam, I'm quitting my job. I'm taking Maya and moving to the Midwest. Will you come with us?" The moment I said it, I knew I was damning myself. But I didn't care. In the past, I had no choices. Today, I was willing to burn down my entire moral compass to keep him alive. Liam stared at me intently. He knew I knew. But he didn't ask questions. He just cupped my face. "Chloe, you don't have to give up anything for me." "I want to," I cried, the tears finally spilling over. "Let's just live a normal life." He pulled me in tight. So he remembered. He wasn't missing five years of memories. He remembered everything. But he would never know how much that single promise—to live a normal life—meant to me. That night, the nightmares returned. I dreamed of the day two years ago when he said he had to leave for a while. Then, the news report that he had been executed for international drug smuggling. I jolted awake. The bed was empty. I crept into the dark living room. The balcony door was slightly ajar. Liam was on his phone, his voice a low whisper. "The shipment is with Hayes. Don't worry. But Oliver knows something. Keep a tight tail on him." A pause. Then Liam chuckled darkly. "Don't worry about me. I'm harder to kill than that." I stepped back in horror, my foot slamming into the coffee table. Liam hung up instantly and rushed in. "What happened?" "Don't touch me!" I held my hands up. He froze. My voice was trembling with sobs. "Are you ever going to tell me the truth?" He clamped his jaw shut. "Tell me this, at least," I begged. "Are you... are you going to die again?" His eyes softened. "No." He closed the distance and wrapped his arms around me. "I'm staying right here. I promise."

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