MARY_OMONOWA

Modern dating is already a minefield, but nothing could have prepared Ellie for falling into a twisted love triangle with a ghost. When her seemingly perfect boyfriend, Ben, starts mumbling secrets to thin air and even forgets their anniversary, Ellie knows something is horribly off. Her worst fears come crashing down when she discovers that Victoria—Ben’s dashing, dead ex—is back from the grave, haunting him with a toxic mix of unresolved passion and vengeful unfinished business.

Determined not to lose the man she loves, Ellie embarks on a wild, chaotic journey to outwit this lovesick specter. As she digs deeper into Victoria’s murky past, Ellie uncovers a shocking truth: the ghost’s jealousy is only part of the nightmare. Victoria isn’t just stalking Ben—she’s trapped in an eternal limbo, doomed to suffer unless someone frees her from her own bitter chains. And now, Ellie must face the impossible challenge of saving not just her relationship, but a tortured soul from beyond the grave.

In this surreal battle where romance collides with the supernatural and dark humor, Ellie is forced to ask the unthinkable: Can love really transcend death, or is she doomed to become nothing more than an awkward, unwitting third wheel in a paranormal romance that defies all natural laws?

The ghost who stole my man

Ellie's scream barely left her lips before Ben's grip on her waist tightened—too tight, like a vice locking her in place.

His eyes, usually warm and full of love, darkened into something hollow. Empty.

The voice slithered out of his mouth, but it wasn't his. It was hers. Victoria.

Ellie's breath came in short, ragged gasps. She pushed against his chest, but he didn't budge. His body felt wrong—stiff, unnatural, like something else was wearing him.

"Ben—" Her voice cracked. "Let me go."

A slow, sinister smile curled his lips. "Why would I?"

Ellie's stomach twisted. It wasn't him. It was her.

"You sick, jealous, dead bitch," she spat, thrashing harder. "Get out of him!"

Ben—or Victoria—laughed. The sound was chilling, full of mockery, like Ellie was nothing more than an inconvenience.

"You think you can just take him?" Victoria's voice dripped with venom. "Like I never existed? Like I never mattered?"

Ellie gritted her teeth. "You're dead. You don't get to matter anymore."

Ben's body jerked. A flicker of something—recognition? Pain?—crossed his face. Then, just as quickly, it was gone.

"He still dreams of me, you know." Victoria's whisper was a cruel caress against Ellie's ear. "He still remembers my touch. My lips. My body."

Ellie's heart clenched, rage and hurt twisting inside her like barbed wire. She hated her. She hated her for still having a grip on Ben, for haunting him, for trying to steal what wasn't hers anymore.

"You're nothing but a shadow," Ellie hissed. "A sad, desperate ghost clinging to something that's not yours. You don't scare me, and you sure as hell don't own him anymore."

Ben's body shook. His fingers twitched, his breath ragged. Ellie could see him fighting—trying to push her out.

With all her strength, she reached up and kissed him.

It wasn't gentle. It was desperate, fierce—a battle between love and the dead.

For a moment, Ben was unresponsive, his lips cold, foreign. Then, something snapped.

A shudder ran through him. His grip loosened. His hands, once unyielding, trembled against her waist. The air in the room shifted, the oppressive weight lifting slightly.

Ben lurched backward, sucking in a sharp breath as if he'd been drowning. His eyes were wide, frantic. "Ellie—"

She stumbled away, her chest heaving. "Are you—are you you?"

Ben clutched his head, his entire body shaking. "She's angry." His voice was hoarse, raw. "She doesn't want to let go."

Ellie wiped her lips, still tasting the bitter chill of Victoria's presence. "Well, guess what? Neither do I."

Then, before she could say another word—

Glass shattered, sparks rained down like dying stars, and a violent gust of wind howled through the room. Ellie barely had time to duck before a picture frame flew off the wall, crashing inches from her head.

Ben staggered forward, gripping her shoulders. "We need to leave—now!"

She turned to the empty, raging air.

"Listen to me, you selfish bitch," she snarled. "You can haunt us, you can throw tantrums, but you will not take him from me. You had your turn. You're done."

The wind screamed around them, furious.

Then, the temperature dropped so suddenly that Ellie's breath came out in a frozen mist.

And right before the room plunged into darkness, one final whisper crawled into her ear—soft, mocking, full of terrifying promise.

Chapter 5: Between Love and the Dead