Until Death Do Us Part: Haunted Romance Series Book 1

by Leigh, Cassie

  It seemed to Millie that Noah should be happy rather than nervous that Claire was coming. He bent over backward to please her and make their new home something she could love as much as he so obviously did. Had Millie been blessed to be his wife rather than Harold’s, she would have been overcome with gratitude to have such a considerate husband.

  Millie sighed wistfully at that little fantasy and settled in to immerse herself in modern living. She focused on the happy couple on the current TV program. Perhaps experience had tempered her view on what Claire should appreciate. Mille regretted the thought as soon as she had it.

  The cold came first; it was December in this memory. She relived it enough to know where and when she was, the second the stench of booze struck her. The glow of the low light made Harold look like the very devil, with his sunken eyes cast in shadow. He dragged his hand through greasy hair.

  “Gi’me a kiss girl.” His words slurred as he grabbed her ankle under the threadbare blanket and dragged her across the bed to him.

  Harold leaned over her, adding the smell of sweat to the whisky on his breath. She turned her face away, but he clasped her jaw tight as he pulled her in for that kiss. She felt the bile rise in the back of her throat as his tongue entered her mouth. He released her, pushing her back.

  “Where have you been all night, Harold,” Millie asked through gritted teeth.

  He fell rather than sat on the edge of the bed. The frame shook as if it was about to give under his weight. “Ain’t none o’ yer business.”

  “I waited for you all day,” She continued. “I needed your pay to go down to the grocers.”

  “Ain’t your money, Millie. I’m the one earn’n it.”

  She grabbed hold of his shirt collar, forcing him to look her in the eyes. “And I’m your wife. How am I supposed to feed us without the money?”

  Harold batted her hand away and stood up. “I didn’t ask for no damn wife.” He paced the length of their one-room cottage, with its sparse hand-me-down furnishings.

  Mille shifted, sitting up on her heels. She clutched the blanket in tight fists. Tears stung her eyes. She hated that she had ever cried for this man. He never deserved those tears.

  “I didn’t ask for a husband either, but you took me to bed. You made me all sorts of fine promises. This isn’t what you promised me, Harold.”

  The crack across her face came sudden. Even knowing it was coming as she did, she couldn’t brace for it. The force of it whipped her around and bounced her head off the wall. She collapsed on the bed and held the side of her face.

  “Go home to yer damned mama. Let her feed ya.” Harold stalked to the door. The heavy thud of his boots felt like it echoed in her head. “It’s my money. I’ll drink every penny ‘fore I let ya have it.”

  The door slammed behind him, and Millie was alone, sitting on Noah’s deep sofa. She blinked in the bright morning sunlight, not darkness. The pain from that memory still rang in her ears.

  why did you make the closet so small?”

  Balanced on the edge of the oversized tub, Millie watched the power struggle wage between the couple. The gleaming porcelain oval serving as her perch came just this afternoon and dominated the space that once held her bed.

  Millie was proud of the work Noah had managed thus far. She expected to hear praise from Claire, or she wouldn’t have dared to intrude. But now Millie watched with the fascination one might have for a train wreck. Her conscience told her to respect Noah’s privacy, but she couldn’t look away.

  “You wanted a soaker tub. Where did you think the space was coming from?” Noah threw up his hands from his position leaning against the exterior wall. “It’s a second closet. You don’t need more than this.”

  “I thought the space was coming out of your shower.” Claire’s eyes narrowed as if she was looking for the weak link to pick at and get her way. “How much space do you need?”

  When they came up here, Claire had circled the framed out spaces in chilled silence. Her aqua running shoes made no sound as she paraded around in her form-fitting yoga pants, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, stretching the ice blue tank top taut.

  Claire scrutinized every inch for the slightest error. How she would know when she came across one, Millie wasn’t certain, but she was sure that Claire viewed mistakes only as a tactical advantage to get her own way. Claire looked like a cat, ready to pounce and Noah was her unwitting mouse.

  Hope for Claire’s good opinion gave way to disappointment as soon as she opened her mouth. If Noah minded that Millie was present for this dressing down, he wasn’t showing it—not that he could in front of Claire.

  Millie suffered no such constraints. “You’re doing all the hard work. I still don’t see why she needs a second closet.”

  Noah’s eyes flickered in Millie’s direction and then settled back on Claire. She seemed oblivious to the storm brewing, darkening his placid blue eyes to blackened steel.

  “I was able to save the baseboards from the new closet.” Noah crossed his arms over his chest, mirroring the defensive posture of his fiancée. “I’ll reuse them in the master bath. That way everything matches and no waste.” Evidently, he had settled on the diplomatic approach of changing the subject to one Millie knew he felt great pride in.

  “The waste is to your time. You promised me new finishes.”

  Millie flinched at Claire’s sharp tone. His fiancée glanced up from her flippant inspection of her red-lacquered nails to the scowl developing in Noah’s face. Millie lowered herself down from the edge of the tub and drifted back towards the framed-out door until she stood on the other side of the partially finished wall. She continued observing them.

  Millie didn’t like that look on his face. Having seen it enough on Harold’s, it dredged up emotional wounds she would rather not examine. It almost made her miss that on Noah there was an element of control that her deceased husband lacked. Millie was quickly growing to dislike Claire. Despite those feelings, she was nervous for her. Claire had taken her criticism too far.

  “Claire just doesn’t understand, Noah. She doesn’t mean it.” Millie found herself feeling the unlikely pull to defend Claire. “You don’t have to give in. You’re doing right by the house. Just give her a chance to see. Half done, she can’t see the vision you have.”

  Noah kept silent and still as a stone wall. Millie couldn’t be sure he listened. Harold would have exploded by now, but Noah hadn’t, and that at least gave her some small measure of ease. Claire must also have sensed the miscalculation of her present attitude, or at the very least, that it wouldn’t get her what she wanted.

  Claire’s demeanor shifted from tight and shrewd, to soft and falsely pliant. No longer closing herself off to him, Claire’s arms dropped to her sides as she sauntered across the skeletal bathroom to him. She raised one manicured hand to trail down his chest and hook on the waistband of his denim pants.

  Her lips puckered into a sultry pout. “You are going to keep your promise, right?”

  Noah seemed to squirm in his skin but made no move to return Claire’s attempt at affection. Claire thought they were alone. Millie could see how Claire would think nothing of turning on her womanly charm to get what she wanted. Noah knew better. Again, his eyes darted in Millie’s direction.

  Claire, refusing to be dissuaded from her goal, reached up and snaked her arms around Noah’s neck. She went up on her toes, pulling him into a slow kiss that had Millie seeing red.

  A moment ago, Millie had felt sorry for Claire, but this manipulation was disgusting. That wasn’t the heart of Millie’s feelings, not if she was being honest with herself. If Claire had been kissing anyone else, yes, Millie would have been appalled by her methods, but she would have simply looked the other way. It wasn’t her relationship or her place to judge. The fact that Claire was plying her charms on Noah was the issue.

  Millie had no right to this swell of jealousy that she was surprised to find burning brightly inside of her. It fueled her, and she fel
t the energy building like a pressure valve about to blow. His kindness, the hours of conversation and their quiet companionship did not entitle her to anything. Rationally she knew that, but she didn’t feel that in this moment.

  Claire’s hands moved down between them while maintaining the kiss. With a soft moan, she popped the button on his trousers. When she grasped the zipper-pull Noah finally moved, shoving her hand away. Stepping sideways, he broke the kiss and her hold on him.

  Millie slumped in relief, but the well of energy her emotions raised did not dissipate. She would have to be careful in this state, or she might find herself inside another memory.

  Noah’s face was stoic when he opened his mouth to speak. “We need to come to some kind of compromise, but that’s not how we’re going to get there, Claire.”

  Claire’s face pinched up like a petulant child. Her arms crossed again, this time under her breasts to display the assets he had just turned down and her toe tapped out her impatience.

  “I am not giving up the shower for a bigger closet. It costs too much to have the plumber rough it in, and it adds value to the house.” Noah paced in front of the gleaming white tub. “I’m also not budging on the baseboards. I’m working hard on them, and it saves us money for the finishes you want.”

  Claire pounced, her words clipped and her tone harsh. “Fine. Then I want the closet to have custom built-ins. If you’re saving so much money on the baseboards, you can afford it.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Millie practically spat the words as she drifted out from her hiding place to stand in the doorway, hands fisted on her hips. “All of that fuss for a fancier closet? This is ridiculous, Noah. You’ve done enough.”

  A bare light bulb hanging down from the corner of the bathroom flickered under the strain of Millie’s outburst and then popped, raining down shards of glass. It did nothing to alleviate the pent-up well of energy.

  Claire shrieked as she did a little jump step to the side. “What the hell!”

  Noah closed his eyes and reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

  As if to steady himself, he took a series of deep breaths in through the nose and out through the mouth. “Fine, I will look into a customizable closet system for you. Satisfied?”

  A moment of strained silence passed between them. Claire shifted and then finally broke the stalemate. “For now.”

  Her words were a challenge, whether or not Noah saw it—Millie did. She wanted to scream out her frustration. This woman was getting a beautiful home that she didn’t have to work for. She just had to show up. Yet not only did she make demands, she expected him to sacrifice the things he liked about it and showed not an ounce of appreciation.

  Restless and brooding, Millie paced behind Noah, wishing there was some way she could shove Claire into a wayward memory. It could do Claire good to learn the humility Millie had to at Harold’s hands. She shook herself, regretting that she had such a hateful notion. No one deserved to live the tormented life that she had that last year.

  Millie fled the room and the manipulation she had just witnessed. She wanted to forget this whole episode had happened and return to the vibrant world in the television. She made it only as far as the bottom of the stairs before her will gave out and she collapsed.

  Energy still rolled within Millie, simmering on a slow boil, but it would not carry her non-corporeal form any further. Venting it at something, or more appropriately someone, held a strong appeal. She couldn’t have imagined that she would regret the promise she had freely offered. There would be no frightening Claire. The light bulb had not been intentional, and she was not about to allow jealousy to break her moral fortitude, no matter how sorely tempted she might be.

  The storming couple moved in Millie’s direction. Mired in her own thoughts, she chose to ignore the voices and their proximity. It wasn’t worth the effort to move out of their path despite the uncomfortable pressure she felt when she allowed Claire to walk right through her.

  Millie pressed her hands to her chest as if the experience had left a gaping hole to fill.

  Claire shivered and stumbled. She would have fallen down the last step had Noah not sidestepped Millie and caught Claire’s elbow.

  Noah gave Millie a sharp look and turned back to Claire. “Are you alright?”

  “I’m fine.” Claire jerked her elbow from his grasp. “I’m going home, alone.”

  Her gaze bounced from wall to wall in the entryway. Millie knew she was looking for an air vent. Some easy explanation for the cold spot she passed through.

  “I think you need to have the AC system checked or something.” Claire pulled the front door open. “I told you this place was a money pit.”

  The door closed with a heavy thud. Noah leaned his forehead into it and spoke without looking at Millie. “I thought you said you were going to leave her alone.”

  “I did.” Her answer was quiet, barely above a whisper. “I just sat here.”

  If he only understood how she felt, how much she had wanted to do. He might have applauded her restraint at only sitting on the stairs. But then he couldn’t know that she was still reeling in the throes of jealousy, something she knew she had no right to feel. It was a surprise even to herself.

  “And she doesn’t know you’re there. You could have moved.” Noah sighed heavily, as though he couldn’t muster the energy to be angry with her. “It’s late, and I’m not going to get any work done. What do you say you and I settle in for the night with some home improvement shows?”

  Noah watched her, his face pinched into a sad and defeated expression. If that was how Claire made him feel, Millie had to wonder why he would do so much for her, why he would marry her. Millie wanted nothing more than to bring back his smile. All she had to offer was companionship, and if that would be enough, she would not withhold it.

  “I think an evening with you sounds lovely.” After all, soon his bride would stand between them, as surely as she had over a closet.

  noah pushed the faded orange cart slowly through the tile department of the home improvement store, taking slow, deep breathes to remain calm. “Claire, I really need you to pick something in stock. We don’t have time to special order anything. The tile has to be laid this week if you want the master suite done before our wedding.”

  “But I want something special, not cookie cutter. I don’t want stock finishes. That’s why you talked me into a fixer-upper, remember?” Claire complained.

  Noah smiled weakly at an elderly couple giving them a sideways glance as they ambled past. They probably took one look at his blue jeans and well-loved Thor t-shirt and thought Claire was slumming it. Too bad, they didn’t know about his MBA. He wasn’t making six-figures yet, but he was further up the corporate ladder then she pretended to be.

  Claire looked out of place in this hardhat haven, wearing her designer label silk blouse and the pencil skirt that hugged her curves enough to remind him that he should consider himself a lucky man. Instead, the pale blue and charcoal grey that she thought made her look classy made him think of ice, which is what the blood in his veins felt like near her over the last several weeks.

  Each click of Claire’s red-soled heels echoed like the seconds ticking down on the time bomb of their wedding. He promised her he would get it done, but she wanted an upgrade to everything and took forever to make the smallest choice. So much so that on anything he thought he could get away with, he stopped asking her so that he could make up for lost time. He was not about to hear another I told you so from her.

  Pinching the bridge of his nose, he closed his eyes before he spoke. “Picking in-stock tile does not mean we have stock finishes. It’s the combination we put together that makes it special.”

  “I don’t know why you’re getting so pissy with me. It’s not easy planning a wedding and our new home,” she grumbled as she dug through her purse. “It’s a lot of pressure to do everything perfect. You just have to show up at our wedding and install what I pick out at the house.”

/>   “Yeah, so easy after an eight hour day at the office,” he shot back. “If I’m not working or sleeping, I’m building at the house.”

  “The house that you wanted. You wanted to do this. I wanted move-in ready.” Unearthing her inhaler, Claire shook it before bringing it to her red painted lips and drawing deeply from it.

  Noah turned and walked away, to the end of the aisle. It had been like this almost as soon as they had gotten engaged, meaningless argument after meaningless argument. Usually, he gave in, gave her whatever made her happy. It had to be the wedding planning that was stressing her out. At least he hoped so because he was beginning to feel as though he made the biggest mistake of his life.

  The first disagreement he had come out ahead on in quite some time was the house. But then that had effected their overall future and not just the wedding. Claire never seemed happy with anything he did; she always pushed for more. At this point, going home to Millie looked more and more appealing. Every night he literally tore her house—the place she was born and died in—down to the studs and turned it into something new. Millie never complained. In fact, she told him she was grateful that someone loved her house enough to do it.

  A compliment had yet to pass through Claire’s tarted up lips.

  Resigned to get through this, he walked back to his fiancée, stopping first to grab a 12x12 sheet of tile and a handful of white subway tile. “What do you think of this? We can do the white penny tile on the floor, and I can lay the subway tile in the shower in a herringbone pattern? With your black vanity and white vessel sink, it’ll look classic but with a modern twist.”

  His description sounded like the something a designer would say on one of those shows he watched with Millie. But if it sold the concept to Claire and they could get out of this store, he didn’t care.

  “I haven’t seen that in any of the houses we toured before, and I do like how it sparkled. You have my attention.” Claire crossed her arms in front of her and cocked her head at an angle, her lips pursed in consideration.