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Tonight's Dinner Is From My Dead Wife Novel Cover

Tonight's Dinner Is From My Dead Wife

Returning from a day of work, a man finds his dining table laden with his favorite meals and perfectly warmed liquor. While the scene appears to be the work of a devoted and caring spouse, he feels no appreciation for the gesture. Instead, his attention is fixed on the wall directly behind the woman serving him. There, the somber image of her own memorial portrait hangs, revealing a terrifying reality that contradicts the domestic warmth before him.
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Chapter 2

I slept dreamlessly through the night and woke up to brilliant sunlight.

Perhaps being on the road for a month had taken its toll on me, for my exhaustion had outweighed my fear. Frankly, I was surprised I'd fallen asleep at all under such eerie circumstances.

Emboldened by sunlight, I cleared my throat and called out to Mabel as I had in the past, "Mabel?"

No one else was in the bedroom.

I got out of bed and checked the other rooms. The kitchen was a filthy mess, the utensils covered in dust. The trash in the corner had grown moldy, its odor disgustingly pungent.

The food that had been on the dining table last night was tossed in a corner of the wall, and cobwebs dangled from it.

The apartment looked exactly as I'd left it when I went on the road a month ago.

Had last night been a hallucination?

No! It couldn't be. I could clearly recall her cold hands; I'd never forget her icy touch! How could I have imagined all that?

I collapsed on the ground like a sack of potatoes that had just been dropped, then lifted my gaze to Mabel's memorial portrait.

She was smiling gently at me through the frame. But without realizing it, I thought I saw her smile grow more sinister and blood spill from her eyes, just as they had on the day she died.

A ghost! She'd come back to haunt me as a ghost!

A scream escaped me. I rubbed my eyes, gathering the last of my strength as I burst out of the room.

"Damn it! Are you trying to kill yourself?"

I'd taken off so fast that I ended up colliding with my downstairs neighbor, Hilda, who'd just returned from a grocery run. She rubbed her arm as she snapped at me, "Why the hell are you running so fast? Did you see a ghost in broad daylight?"

Yes, that was exactly what happened!

I grabbed Hilda as if she were my saving grace.

"Hilda!" I stared at her, my voice full of panic as I asked with my last shred of hope, "You live right under my apartment, so you'd know! D-Did any living person come by my place yesterday? My wife… Did my wife show up?"

Hilda retorted scornfully, "Living person? What, were you expecting a ghost? Besides, where'd a bachelor like you get a wife? Mrs. Lloyd and I were downstairs playing poker the whole day yesterday and didn't see any woman show up."

I went still. It was as if a bucket of icy water had been tipped over my head.

They didn't know I was married at one point. If anyone showed up, they would have noticed right away.

And yet, Hilda made it clear that she hadn't seen or heard anything or anyone.

The midday sun was blazing, yet the cold sweat that had broken out over my forehead ran down my face like rivulets.

I didn't believe in ghosts or the occult, but it was hard not to after everything I'd gone through. Could the apartment be haunted?

I stood in place for a long while before snapping out of my daze. After some thought, I decided to hit the supermarket for two packs of cigarettes.

I then headed over to the management office.

"Haunted?"

The man in the management office grinned as he took the cigarette I offered, only to go from happy to confused after hearing my story.

"Yes. Have you heard about any hauntings at Block A6-1, Apartment 302?" I asked in a measured voice, trying my best to get to the truth without sounding overly invested.

"Nope."

He took a drag of his cigarette, then fixed me with a long look.

"To think a 6-foot-tall man like you would believe in such nonsense!" He spat on the ground and eyed me with contempt. "Why would you be afraid of ghosts if you hadn't done something wrong? What are you getting up to?"

His admonishment rendered me speechless. I had no choice but to give him a sheepish, apologetic smile.

I had no idea if I'd live past tonight.

I dared not return home even as the day darkened, but hotels were too expensive, and I couldn't bring myself to pay the tab.

Just as I was debating my choices, my phone rang.

It was Tony. I never really knew his last name because he never told me.

"Hey, Caden. You busy? Care to come out for a drink?"

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