You never cared, did you? he asked. Whether I survived or not. Keep on living or die on the spot, he told her.

That’s not true, she told him. I cared plenty. Watching you go through that was not easy. There were times when I had to step away.

You stepped away a lot. Went to the bar and kept on stepping, he laughed. You never came back.

I wanted to. Doesn’t that count for something?

The ghost shook his head. He reached in his pocket and pulled out a gold-chain watch. The face had big Roman numerals on it. It ticked every second.

See this? her husband asked. Peter gave me this when I walked up to  the pearly gates. The saint  said to keep this on me. Told me to keep track of time. Minutes, hours, spent walking this earth until it ends. The days will get shorter, Peter said. Time will run out. Before it does, make amends. Then you’ll have peace.

I see. You’ve come to say you’re sorry? she asked. What for?

There were times when I could have stayed with you as well. Times when I just left.

I appreciate that. I didn’t want to leave you there alone. With all the drugs I thought you wouldn’t notice.

No. I felt your presence and your absence.

I came back, and you were dead, she said. Came back, and you were gone. Wasn’t fair. I just needed a break.

Shhhh. It’s OK. I forgive you.

The watch kept on ticking.