As he sat before this deeply aggrieved ghost, Jasper’s mind raced back to the many moments concerning his time with Queenie.

The moments he met her, pursued her, began that intimate fling with her, and all the times he rocked up at her apartment to rip her apart on her bed. As they replayed in his mind, he knew the driving force behind it all.

Unbridled lust. Nothing else but that.

He had found himself enraptured by her luscious curves, and despite her initial resistance, gotten her to fall for his charms. What followed was a wild affair that, in all truth, served to satisfy his hunger alone. He could tell from the onset that Queenie was a needy young woman with a need for some affection and companionship, and would easily interpret his desire for sex as love. And he took full advantage of that.

Even after her heartfelt moment of vulnerability and the plea to stick by her, he wasn’t moved, too caught up in the thrill of their sweet trysts. All that mattered was going over to her place, taking off her clothes, and screwing her mind out. Everything else was secondary.

He thought of the moment she told him she was pregnant, and how he dumped her straight away, blocking her number and acting like they never met.

Yeah, he had been extremely heartless toward her with his reaction. His passions had grown so wild, that he threw caution to the wind and went unprotected with her. That announcement jolted him back to reality, and in seeking to absolve himself, decided to cut her off. He refused to think about how she’d react and what she would do; the only thing that mattered was ensuring Marjorie would never find out, as it would destroy their family.

He thought of the moments after he heard of her death, how he had callously dismissed her pain and her struggles as mere youthful folly.

Once again, cowardice reigned, as he had no idea how to process this tragic news. Sure, she took that overdose herself, but without hurting her, the thought of doing so would never have crossed her mind. He elected to rather suppress his guilt and hurt, and replaced them with an exterior apathy, all in a bid to distance himself as much as possible from his deceased lover and leave no trace of what they once shared.

Now, in the spectral presence of Queenie, he saw the truth of his actions laid bare.

Lies and betrayal that had not only ended her life but had desecrated her memory.

She was not just a ghost; she was the embodiment of the truth he had denied, the responsibility he had shirked, and every ounce of respect he had failed to show to her memory.

He deserved this. It was all his fault, and he couldn’t even begin to deny it.

His knees hit the cold floor with a thud, his trembling hands clasped together as tears streamed down his face. His voice cracked as he spoke, raw with unadulterated guilt.

“Queenie, please… I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry for everything I did to you. For lying, for taking advantage of you, abandoning you… for—” He choked on his words, his body wracked with sobs. “I was a coward, Queenie. A bastard, a heartless son of a bitch and a coward. I didn’t deserve you. I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but please…”

Queenie stood before him, her face void of expression, her eyes unreadable. She was like an unmoving pillar of judgment. Not a word, not a smile, not a frown. Just silence.

“I was such a selfish prick,” Jasper continued, his voice breaking. “You were right; all you wanted was to have someone who actually cared about you. I didn’t; I simply saw you as a means to fulfill my sexual fantasies. I took advantage of your desire for love and took your innocence away. I lied to you. Used you in the most heartless way. I hurt you in ways I can never undo. I’m sorry, I truly am. And for our child…” He let out a strangled cry. “I didn’t even give that little one a chance. I robbed them of a life, of a father. I—”

A low, guttural growl cut him off.

A familiar growl that sent chills racing down his spine. He knew what source that blood-curdling sound came from. His head jerked up, and there she was.

The little girl had reappeared, her eyes glowing with malevolence, her small frame twisted into that monstrous disposition that nearly tore him apart the previous night. Her face was contorted into a mask of rage and her teeth bared as she crouched low, ready to strike.

“No…” Jasper whispered, his voice trembling. “No, please… please don’t do this… wait…”

It hit him like a bolt of lightning.

Just as he spoke of their child, she appeared.

It was a no-brainer.

She’s mine. She’s my daughter. Our daughter.

The realization tore through him. Now her frenzied attack made sense.

Of course, she had every reason to want to hurt him. He had denied her existence, denied her a chance at life. In this realm, she knew he didn’t want her, and had pushed her and her mother away. And now, here she was, a spectral embodiment of his sins, seeking retribution.

He really thought Queenie’s death was a get-out-of-jail-free card for his foolishness. How wrong he had been! His transgressions had caught up with him in the creepiest way possible.

He fell flat on his face, pressing his forehead to the floor, his voice barely above a whisper. “Forgive me,” he sobbed. “Please, forgive me. I’m sorry, Queenie. I’m sorry, my unborn daughter. I was wrong. I was so wrong. I hurt you both, and I know I can never take it back. I’ll carry this guilt forever, but please… please don’t hurt me. I’m sorry, I regret everything I did, I was a fool, I’m such a bloody fool, I beg you, please… please forgive me…”

The room was heavy with silence, broken only by the sound of his ragged breathing and muffled weeping. Not a word or a growl or a sigh. Just a broken Jasper on the floor, weeping before the ghosts of his ex-lover and their unborn child, seeking mercy.

Then, after what felt like an eternity, Queenie spoke, her voice soft, but cold and devoid of anger.

“Let’s go.”

Jasper lifted his head slightly, his tear-streaked face filled with confusion. The little girl’s monstrous form flickered, her glowing eyes dimming as her features softened back into those of a sweet, innocent child.

She looked at him one last time, her expression unreadable, before slipping her small hand into Queenie’s. Together, they turned and walked away, their figures fading into the shadows.

Jasper lay on the floor, his chest heaving with silent sobs. The oppressive silence of the house reigned once more.

He wiped his eyes and sniffed as he stared at the spot where they had disappeared, his mind racing with questions.

Had they accepted his apology? Had he pacified them enough with his genuine remorse? Or was this just the beginning of something far worse?

The uncertainty gnawed at him as he remained there, broken and alone, haunted by the ghosts of his past and the lingering question of whether they would ever return.

Well, his apology seems genuine, even if it’s far too late. Have they forgiven him or not? Maybe the end will give us an idea…