Grave Mistakes: Choosing the Enemy

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He promised to love me until his dying breath, but he looks pretty alive while hes undressing her.

They say you cant compete with a ghost. That the dead are invincible. Total bullshit.

Ive been haunting Tristan for three years. Ive watched him drag a parade of women into our homepoor girls who wore my face like a mask.

He used them. He broke them. He kicked them out before dawn because looking at them hurt too much.

But the girl tonight?

She looks nothing like me.

Shes sunshine and life, and shes erasing me from his memory one kiss at a time. He doesn't silence her. He lets her scream his name. He holds her like shes precious, not a disposable copy.

I float in the corner of the bedroom we built together, invisible and forgotten.

Hes finally found a permanent replacement.

And God, it hurts more than dying ever did.

Chapter 1

The door slams open.

Tristan staggers in, lips locked with a woman, devouring her.

He pins her against the wall, his hand slapping blindly at the switch until the lights flare on.

I stopped counting the women a long time ago.

I don't know what sin landed me in this purgatory. Bound to Tristan. Forced to watch.

One after another, he brings them here. He fucks them right in front of me.

I went from screaming in rage to shattering in grief. Then numbness set in. Now? I feel nothing.

Its been three years.

Every single girl he brought home had my face. My eyes. My jawline.

He never let the replacements make a sound.

Because if they spoke, the illusion would break.

He never let them stay the night. This was supposed to be our marital home. Even if we never got to be husband and wife.

The woman steps onto my rug in her stilettos.

I arch a brow. Tristan used to go nuclear if anyone stepped on that rug with shoes.

But he doesnt.

He kneels. He unbuckles her heels and slides them off. The faint scent of his colognecedar and raindrifts up to taunt me, a smell that used to mean safety.

Then he sweeps her into his arms and lays her on the bed like shes made of glass.

I finally see her face.

I freeze.

She looks nothing like me.

Shes bright. Sunny. Her smile is so sweet it almost hurts to look at.

She pouts, her voice light and teasing. "I haven't even showered yet"

Tristan swallows the rest of her sentence with his mouth.

Moments later, the room fills with the wet, heavy sound of their breathing.

I hover above the bed, watching him.

Hes different with her.

He lets her moan. He lets her scream. Afterward, he carries her to the bathroom, gentle and steady.

And then, the impossible happens.

He pulls her close and lets her sleep in his arms.

Morning light spills through the blinds. Tristan is propped up on one elbow, just watching her sleep. Hes smiling.

He leans down and kisses her cheek.

I haven't seen that look on his face in three years.

He loves her.

Ghosts shouldn't feel pain. We don't have bodies.

But a dull, heavy ache spreads through my chest. I try to clutch at my heart, but my hands pass right through.

I stare at my empty palms. Useless.

I couldn't hold him when he screamed my name in a drunken stupor. I couldn't stop him when he tried to follow me into the grave.

Three years. He mourned me for three years.

I saw how much he loved me. I should be happy hes moving on.

So why am I still here?

Why won't this world let me go?

Am I supposed to watch him marry her? Watch them have children?

But something has shifted.

After that night, the barrier is gone. I can leave the house.

For three years, an invisible wall kept me trapped inside. Now, Im floating behind Tristan as he walks out the door.

The world outside is loud and bright. I feel lost.

We picked this house together. We spent months arguing over neighborhoods. We chose this spot because of the future. The new mall, the schools, the hospital.

Everything we planned is here now. Its real.

But Im not the one standing next to him.

"Piper, how are you this cute?"

The girlPiperlooks up at him, blinking in confusion.

Tristan laughs. He wipes a smudge of ice cream from the tip of her nose and licks it off his finger.

Piper blushes, glancing around nervously. "Stop it! People are watching."

"Let them watch," Tristan grins, leaning in. "We've done a hell of a lot more than kiss."

He pinches her cheek, tilting her head back.

Then a fist connects with his jaw.

Piper screams.

Tristan stumbles back, blood already welling on his lip.

A man stands over him, chest heaving, eyes burning with fury.

Harrison.

"Tristan, you son of a bitch! How could you do this to Luna?"

Chapter 2

Piper dabs antiseptic on Tristans cut lip, her touch feather-light.

"Who was that psycho? Are you seriously not going to press charges?"

Tristan catches her wrist. He kisses her knuckles. "Forget it. Just a stray dog barking."

Piper pouts, tracing circles on his chest with her free hand. "That name he screamed Luna. Was that your"

Tristans face tightens. The silence stretches.

"Yeah."

"That is so unfair," she huffs. "Its been three years. Does he expect you to be a monk forever?"

I flinch.

He told her. He actually told her about me.

"Well sell the house," Tristan says abruptly. "Move somewhere fresh."

Piper squeals, throwing her arms around his neck. "Yes! Can we look at the East Side? The parks are gorgeous. Perfect for walking the baby someday"

Tristan laughs, tapping her nose. "Thinking about babies already? Guess I better start practicing."

Piper blushes, her fingers fumbling with the buttons of her blouse.

I try to turn away. I don't want to see this.

But I can't.

My pocket buzzes.

I pull out the phone.

I found it in my pocket the day I died. The only thing that crossed over with me.

A text from Tristan.

But not this Tristan.

The Tristan on the other end of the line is eighteen.

It took me a year to realize this phone is a direct line to the past. Twelve years ago, to be exact.

[I told Harrison Im going to marry you. Bastard punched me in the face. It hurts like hell.]

Once teenage Tristan realized he was talking to his future, he wouldn't leave me alone.

Who did you marry? Am I rich? What do I do for a living?

I never had the heart to tell him the truththat I was already dead.

I just told him he proposed. And I said yes.

I look away from the screen. Below me, the two bodies are tangling together.

Tristan holds Piper like shes the most fragile thing in the world.

Maybe I don't need to lie to eighteen-year-old Tristan anymore.

Even if the truth breaks his heart, hell be okay. He finds his happy ending eventually.

But the name in his text lingers in my mind.

Harrison.

A ripple of something strange moves through me.

Chapter 3

Tristan, Harrison, and I grew up together. We were inseparable since middle school.

Tristan was pure chaos. Loud, reckless, dead last in every class. He didn't give a damn about grades. The only thing he gave a damn about was if I was in the bleachers.

Harrison was the opposite. The golden boy. Top of the class, ice-cold, impossibly handsome. Unreachable.

I never understood why someone like himdestined for greatnesshung out with burnouts like us.

Tristan confessed his love to me a thousand times. I rejected him every time. I need to focus on my GPA, Id say.

He never minded. Hed just grin, shrug it off, and try again the next day.

On Harrisons birthday, I dragged Tristan to his house in the middle of the night for a surprise.

His room was on the second floor. It was late, and we were terrified of waking his parents, so we scaled the drainpipe.

I tumbled through the window first. Harrison was already awake. He sighed, pulled me up, then turned to haul Tristan over the sill.

It was my first time in his room. I looked around, curious.

Then I saw it.

Under the glass overlay on his desk. A photo of me.

It was a candid shot. My profile, laughing. Tristan must have been sitting across from me, but he had been carefully cropped out.

I looked up, stunned, and locked eyes with Harrison.

His gaze was dark. Steady.

Panic flared in my chest. Before Tristan could see, I grabbed a book and slammed it down over the photo.

When did he take this? Why?

Maybe he just liked the lighting. Maybe it was just a good picture.

It has to be that.

I was terrified. One wrong move and our trio would shatter. I shoved the feeling down, hard.

The cupcake Id smuggled in was smashed from the climb.

Harrison didn't seem to care. He just looked at it calmly.

I patted my pockets. No candle. I looked at Tristan. He glanced out the window. "Left it downstairs."

Tristan started to climb back out, but Harrison stopped him. "Use the stairs. My parents aren't home."

Tristan froze. "You asshole. You could have told us."

He left. And then it was just me and Harrison.

His parents were high-powered lawyers. Always gone. I couldn't believe they weren't even home for his birthday.

My mind went back to the photo. I reached for it.

Harrison saw right through me.

He stepped into my space. He loomed over me, leaning in.

I was trapped against the desk. I gripped the edge to keep from falling.

"Give it back."

"You took it without asking," I snapped. "Its not yours."

Harrison smiled softly. He nodded, like Id made a good point. "I have the negatives. I can print more."

"Harrison, what does this mean?"

He just smirked. He didn't answer.

My heart was racing, pounding against my ribs.

Tristan burst back in, breaking the tension. He jammed the candle into the ruined cupcake, lit it, and told Harrison to blow it out.

The flame flickered. Harrison didn't look at the cake. He looked straight at me.

My heart skipped a beat.

"Luna. My wish is you."

Silence. Heavy, suffocating silence.

I stared at the floor, praying for the ground to swallow me whole.

Tristan didn't explode. He didn't yell.

He just stared at Harrison, his face dangerously calm. "Harrison," he said slowly. "If you say the wish out loud, it won't come true."

---

Tristan rode his familys connections straight to the executive suite after graduation.

Ive never been to his office before today.

A voice cuts through the air. Sweet. Familiar.

I freeze mid-air.

Its Piper. Shes his assistant.

The fresh-faced intern and the hot, seasoned boss.

The sexual tension is thick. Its heavy enough to choke on. If they weren't sleeping together, it would be weird.

A secret office romance. Illicit. Thrilling.

And Tristan is an adrenaline junkie.

Thats exactly why he chose that place to propose

"Well, well. Harrison. Long time."

Tristan takes Harrisons business card with a practiced, tight smile. He barely glances at it before flicking it onto the desk like trash.

Harrisons expression is stone.

I piece it together from the fragments of conversation. Tristans company is in legal trouble. Harrison is the mediator.

Harrison froze him out. He acted like they were strangers.

But when his eyes land on Piper, his mask cracks. Just for a second.

If I hadn't seen the rage in his eyes the other day, I wouldn't believe it was the same man.

The business talk ends quickly. Harrison stands to leave.

"Not so fast," Tristan calls out. "Nothing to say about the sucker punch?"

Harrison stops. He turns, eyes half-lidded. "What do you want me to say?"

"An apology would be nice."

Harrison laughs.

Its a dry, humorless sound. Then his face goes cold. Lethal. "You know exactly who owes the apology here, Tristan."

Tristan reaches for his cigarettes, then remembers the building code and shoves the pack back into his pocket, jaw clenching.

"Harrison. Its been three years. Move on."

Tristan leans back, faking cool.

"If she were alive, Id love her forever. But shes dead. Shes gone. Dust. I like to think that if shes watching, shed want us to be happy. Don't you?"

Harrison doesn't take the bait. He opens the conference room door, his gaze lingering on Piper in the breakroom for a split second.

His voice drops, heavy with regret.

"Tristan, my biggest mistake in this life was letting Luna choose you."

---

I float behind Harrison as he walks out.

For the first time in three years, the invisible tether connecting me to Tristan snaps.

Im free.

Harrison gets into his car and just sits there. He stares up through the sunroof, brows furrowed, gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles turn white.

Long minutes pass before he finally starts the engine.

After that birthday night, our trio was never the same.

The air was always thick with tension. A cold war.

I was the peacekeeper. The buffer. I spent years trying to hold our crumbling friendship together.

Our youth ended in chaos.

Tristan and I went to the same local university. Harrison went Ivy League, far away from us.

The summer before he left, Harrison formally confessed his feelings to me.

I rejected him.

I had to.

Because the night before, at a party, Tristan got wasted. He grabbed me in front of everyone and kissed me. It was rough, possessive, and public.

He claimed me.

The whole room cheered. They clapped like it was a rom-com finale.

Harrison was there. He saw it all.

If I said yes to Harrison, it would have humiliated Tristan. It would have destroyed everything.

I couldn't let Tristan lose face. So I sacrificed myself.

Harrison stopped coming home after that. Holidays, breakshe was always traveling or studying. His social media showed him all over the world. Anywhere but here.

He didn't come back until Tristan and I started planning the wedding.

We pull up to his house.

It fits him. Minimalist. Sharp lines. Clean. No clutter.

I drift inside with him.

Its been a long time since Ive been alone with Harrison.

Chapter 4

The last time we were alone was right before Tristan proposed.

Tristan didn't believe in surprises. He planned the entire proposal right in front of my face.

"I need you to be ready," hed said. "Im not risking you showing up in sweatpants. It has to be perfect."

He invited everyone. Friends. Family. Even Harrison.

Are you actually happy?

Harrison had asked me that, quietly, while I was frantically reapplying lipstick in the mirror.

I just mumbled a yes, too busy checking my teeth for stains.

Two hours later, I was dead.

I died at the peak of my so-called happiness.

---

Harrison sits alone on his sofa, nursing a drink.

No TV. Just a massive painting hanging dead center on the wall.

I know it instantly.

Its an oil painting of that stolen photo. My laughing profile.

He stares at it, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. Silence stretches, heavy and thick. Finally, he stands and walks to the bathroom.

His fingers fumble with the buttons of his shirt.

I stiffen.

He can't see me, but Im floating right in front of him.

Close.

Too close. If I reached out, my palm would rest against his chest.

His shirt falls open.

I squint. Theres something on his skin. Over his heart.

A small, crescent moon.

My breath catches. My mouth falls open. I look up at his face, then back at the ink.

He looks down at it, too.

We both reach out at the same exact moment.

My fingertips graze his skin. His hand covers the tattoo.

Harrison gasps.

His body jerks like hes been electrocuted. His head snaps up, eyes wide, searching the empty air.

For a heartbeat, I think he sees me.

But his gaze passes right through me, unfocused.

I stare at my hand. I felt that. Warmth. Solid skin.

I reach out again

Yank.

A violent force grabs me from behind. The room blurs, colors smearing into gray.

---

When the world sharpens again, Im back.

Back with Tristan.

And hes erasing me.

Hes packing my life into cardboard boxes. My rug. The painting I loved. The vase I carried back from Italy.

Piper sits on the dining table, swinging her legs like a child. "Tristan, are you throwing that junk out?"

Tristan pauses, holding a set of coasters I bought for our first anniversary. "I'll put it in the garage for now."

Piper whines. "Seriously? Youre still hung up on her, aren't you?"

Tristan drops the coasters. His large hand slides up her thigh. "Am I not fucking you hard enough?"

She giggles, wrapping her legs around his waist, hooking her arms around his neck. "I just feel insecure Everyone says you never get over a dead first love."

Tristans face darkens. He crashes his mouth onto hers. Savage.

"She can't compete with you. She's nothing."

The words are a physical blow. A knife twisting in my gut.

I thought I was numb. I thought I couldn't hurt anymore.

I was wrong.

The universe is cruel. It forces me to watch him love her over and over again.

Tristan pulls back, panting. He runs a thumb over her swollen lip. "Next week. I'll meet your parents."

My pocket buzzes.

I pull out the phone, my fingers stiff.

Eighteen-year-old Tristan is impatient.

[Why aren't you replying? When do we get married? I can't wait. Harrison backed off, right? That jerk isn't bothering you anymore?]

I look up at thirty-year-old Tristan. His face is flushed with lust for another woman.

Suddenly, none of it matters. The secrets. The protection. Its all pointless.

I hover my thumbs over the screen. I type slowly.

[You get married at 30. But not to me. To a sweet little girl named Piper.]

Send.

A barrage of question marks floods the screen instantly.

I close my eyes. All I can see is that crescent moon over Harrisons heart.

[Tristan. Is Harrison with you?]

I don't know how this works. Parallel universe? Time travel?

It doesn't matter. Im here for a reason.

I have to try.

Maybe I can change it.

Not for me. For Harrison.

[Harrison needs to know. Luna didn't want to reject him.]

Chapter 5

The moment I tried to change the past, Tristans hold on me broke.

The invisible leash snapped. I was free.

For three years, I watched him cycle through my look-alikes. I convinced myself it was proof of his undying love. I thought my imprisonment in that house was a mercya chance to stay by his side.

I was an idiot.

Tristan had moved on ages ago. I was the only one stuck in purgatory.

Me and Harrison.

Ive been haunting him. Watching him.

His life is a loop. Wake up. Work. Eat without tasting. Drink until numb. Sleep. Repeat.

Hes a machine. Cold. Efficient. Dead inside.

Women flirt with him constantlypartners, clients, models. He doesn't even blink. Hes an iceberg they all crash against.

But today is different.

He spends time on his hair. He puts on a new suit. He sprays cologne on his wrists.

He skips the office. He drives straight to a florist and walks out with an armful of red roses.

Roses.

My stomach drops.

Is this a date?

Anxiety claws at my chest. Im jealous. Im terrified.

Harrison is my last tether to this world. The last person who remembers me.

If he moves on if he forgets

Then Im truly gone. That is the second death. The final one.

He drives out of the city. The roads get winding, desolate.

What kind of date is this?

Then the cemetery gates appear, and it hits me.

Oh.

Today is the anniversary of my death.

Hes here for me.

He places the roses gently against the cold stone. He stands there, silent, like a statue carved from grief.

My chest aches, swollen with a grief I can't contain.

I pull out my phone. I snap a picture. The tombstone is clear in the frame. My name. The dates.

I type the message, my fingers trembling.

[I died at 27. If you still love Luna, please save her.]

I attach the photo. Send.

The loading circle spins.

And spins.

And spins.

Sending Failed.

My eyes widen.

The phone disintegrates into ash in my hands.

"Finally. I found you."

The voice is cold. Ancient. It comes from everywhere and nowhere.

I spin around, searching the empty air.

"You're trying to tamper with the timeline. You're going to cause a paradox."

The realization hits me. The antique trinkets I collected they accidentally created a barrier. A spiritual safe house.

When I died, my soul got trapped in the net. The Grim Reaper's radar couldn't find me.

Until Tristan packed everything into boxes and shoved them in the garage. He broke the seal.

"I couldn't locate you on the roster," the voice grumbles. "To balance the books, I already crossed your name out. If you mess with the timeline now, my paperwork is going to be a nightmare."

A bureaucratic hack of a Reaper. Just my luck.

The voice starts to fade. Panic spikes in my chest.

"Wait! Are you just going to leave me here? Wandering forever?"

A heavy sigh echoes around the cemetery. The wind picks up, howling.

Rose petals explode into a red vortex, blinding me. A crack splits the airthe sound of stone shattering. My tombstone splits down the middle.

"Next time you die keep my name out of your mouth."

The voice vanishes into the gale.

The ground drops out from under me. Vertigo slams into my brain.

Thensilence.

Stillness.

The wind dies. The petals settle on the ruined grave.

Im standing on the grass.

Chapter 6