Prologue

Run. Run faster, deeper, further into that delicate glow of white mist.

The Douglas-firs vanish underneath a blanket of white fog as Oregon's enchanting forest encapsulate and imprison all her senses; trapping her amidst the thick of the fog, amidst the damp morning mist.

She circles round and round, breathless, frantically searching for the silhouette of a white ghost. There is nothing here in this meadow except a white canvas of clear smoke.

A soft glow suddenly forms in front of her.

The mist unfurls, whirl, and recoil in slow, elegant motions of soft swirls. The aura of his glow illuminates the dense fog, creating a burst of bright energy. She shields her eyes but like so many times before; she's awestruck and mystified.

He is taking physical form - a supernatural, magical, unbelievable sight only she can behold.

He begins to take shape, take a physical human with tangible fingers and toes, hot breath, cold sweat, rough skin, deep wrinkles, wet tears, and a ghastly dried scab on his left temple; an eternal reminder of a fatal blow. He stands before her, a tall man with toned muscles and a set of brown eyes rests underneath the ridge of his brow. His chocolate chin length hair sweeps across his beautiful face.

He is the epitome of perfection.

Clutching her hands to her chest, she sinks to her knees in the wet soil. She opens her mouth to speak, but no words escape. Her gaze shifts up as he walks toward her, and like so many times before, her hesitations, reservations, and doubts vanish.

He kneels down in front of her and wipes her tears, tears she hadn't even noticed. He cups her face with his cold hands, and she presses her cheek against his palm. My God, he feels so alive, so real, so solid.

"I know why you came here." His voice is deep and husky to match his mystery. "My answer is still no."

- End Prologue

Chapter 1

"Ma'am, is your entire party here?"

"yes, a table for two please."

The blonde-haired woman nodded, and Jocelyn followed her to a table beside an expansive window that overlooked a spacious pavilion with bystanders all bundled in rain boots and rain coats. They skittered underneath canopies of umbrellas. Jocelyn frowned in distaste. She didn't need another reminder of the terrible, rain-drenched weather. She pointed to the table in the far corner. "Can I take that table instead?" It was nowhere near a window.

The hostess narrowed her blue eyes. "Are you sure? You've got the ambiance over here!" She spoke like she was singing to an upbeat tune. "Bright lights, crystal glass chandelier, right in front of the grand piano and---"

"No, the corner will do. Thank you." Jocelyn didn't sing along.

The hostess shrugged and led her to the table in the dark corner – an island furthest from all the 'ambiance.' She sets two menus on the table and graciously pulled out a chair for Josslyn.

"Thank you," Jocelyn replies as she removed her luxurious Italian Loro Piana raincoat and sat down. She brushed her hands against the camel hair fabric of the coat and the guilt she harbored for overspending subsided. It felt so delicately smooth and so worth the grand she had spent. It's the most expensive item she owned and well worth the investment given the amount of rainfall she's had to endure recently. The hostess clasped her hands excitedly, jolting Jocelyn back from her reverie.

"Can I start you off with wine?" She asked. "We have the finest wine selection in all of Eugene –"

"Water is fine," Josslyn quickly interrupted, and she sensed the hostess's immediate dislike of her unintended rude demeanor. It was purely absent-mindedness, Jocelyn insisted silently. Besides, she had wanted this dinner over before it could even begin.

"Order now or when the entire party arrives?" the irritated Hostess asked curtly, all enthusiasm washed away.

"Now please."

"I'll send for your server." She turned quickly and walked away without looking back.

Jocelyn sighed. It's been a rough week, but she was aware she shouldn't be raining on other people's parade much like this weather is; this dirty, ugly weather that just somehow accentuates her seldom witnessed bitch factor.

She heard Edwin clear his throat from across the table and she knew it was his passive way of reminding her that he was waiting on her. She stood, walked toward the other chair, and pulled it out from under the table so he could sit down.

"Thank you," Edwin whispered.

Jocelyn acknowledged his voice, and even without his physical body, she sensed an air of melancholy around him. Although she could have cared less, she couldn't have just left him standing there all evening. Jocelyn heaved a heavy sigh. In all honesty, she didn't want to be here, dining in this lavish, extravagant restaurant, pretending everything is okay. But here she was, pretending everything is okay.

The server came by and set down a glass of ice-cold water. He took off without taking her order or even muttering a disingenuous hello. And she knew that she probably deserved it. What goes around usually comes back around; more often than not it bites you in the derrière as it sashays right on by.

"I love you," said Edwin.

His tone was so sincere that it nearly brought Jocelyn to tears, but she deliberately chose not to reply. There were nearly over thirty patrons in this restaurant, and she had been labeled 'cuckoo' too many times for talking to herself. Besides, she had left her earpiece at home so she'd prefer to remain silent rather than carry a one person conversation in such a public place. Albeit, being new to this town meant that she could start a fresh, create a new image for herself, one that seemed less...crazy. So Jocelyn sipped on her water and pretended Edwin didn't exist.

Edwin always hated when Jocelyn chose to ignore him, but he knew why and for the most part, he's accepted it. He stared at his wife from across the table and heaved a heavy sigh. He expected her to be angry about the move, but not this angry. She'd even taken off her wedding band. One week of her silent treatment had become so deafening that he could almost hear his heart breaking.

"Please say something." He leaned against the table and superimposed his hand over hers, knowing all too well she couldn't feel him. "Just one word will spare my life."

"No." There. She just spared his life. Now all Josslyn wanted was for him to watch her eat her dinner alone so she can pay the bill and walk out of this restaurant like her date was a no-show. She heard him sigh again in despair, but she was angry, frustrated, and stretched too thin to try and make amends. She didn't want to leave Minnesota. The Winona bluffs were beautiful, she loved the seasons, and had made a few friends. It wasn't easy to make friends when one was always attending to an invisible man.

Ten minutes later, and she's fed up with the poor service. Grabbing her purse, she stood to leave when a man who could've passed for Luke Evans approached her. She gasped at the radiance of his blue eyes.

He tucked both hands into his black trench coat. "Hi."

"Hi." She stuttered and glanced at Edwin, or where she assumed he was.

The man bit his lip with uncertainty, as though he was carefully weighing his words. "I saw you were sitting here for a while and---I mean, I wasn't staring like a creep or anything---" he laughed nervously. "I justed wanted to know if you'd let me keep you company until your...party arrives. My name's Wyatt, by the way."

Jocelyn narrowed her eyes with suspicion. After all, this brazen man was either very brave or foolish to approach a random woman and ask such a request. He could be both.

"Oh no, no." Wyatt waved both hands in defense. "I'm not like that. I don't randomly ask women this sort of thing. I'm not---" He sheepishly grips the navel of his neck. "Brave enough---"

Okay, then he is foolish.

"Or foolish enough."

Jocelyn's jaw dropped.

"I mean for all I know; your boyfriend or husband could justifiably break my neck right?" She's keen enough to know he was passively asking whether she was available.

"Try husband," said Edwin, his tone was far from friendly.

"I'm currently...here with someone," Jocelyn replied.

Wyatt seemed taken back. "Really?" He glanced at the empty seat in front of her in puzzlement.

"I mean, he's on his way," Jocelyn corrected.

Wyatt nodded. "Okay. I didn't see anyone walk in and in my defense---and I know it's none of my business---but I wanted to know if you were alright. You just seemed so...sad."

Jocelyn gasped softly. Is it that obvious? It's either that this man is highly intuitive or that she's lost the ability to hide her insecurities in public. She downcasted and pressed her teal dress down to avoid his gaze. But the caring expression on his face, not to mention his very impressive jawline, unnerved her.

Whoosh!

Jocelyn's cup of water violently flew off the table and crashed against Wyatt's chest. Startled, Wyatt leaped back, eyes widened by the inexplicable action. It was as if someone had deliberately hurled a cup of water at him. He glanced at the beautiful redhead to his right. Her hands clamped over her mouth, "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry."

Jocelyn rushed past him and without glancing back, hurried out of the restaurant. Wyatt stood beside the table, still baffled as to what had just happened and for what reasons in the world would make this woman feel sorry.

Turning left bound, Jocelyn kept her head down as she briskly walked home. She cursed when she realized her nice raincoat was still inside that restaurant. But she would rather face this dreary weather than to have to explain to Wyatt why she was sorry. Clenching her fist in frustration, she wondered why she had let Edwin talk her into this idea. She knew she wasn't ready to be out in public, but she had allowed Edwin to convince her otherwise.

Nearly halfway down the block and already her body was drenched cold. Common sense told her to find immediate shelter, but she embraced the downpour, hoping that it would wash away twenty-six years worth of loneliness and hardship, twenty-six years worth of lies and fakery she's had to puppeteer to maintain a normal life. She didn't take notice of the bustling streets filled with people scampering about, taking care of their own business and tending to their lives.

But she noticed him.

"I'm sorry I had to do that." Edwin's voice emerged beside her.

Jocelyn quickened her pace. "No! You didn't have to. You didn't need to do that, Edwin!" She felt tears threatening to break through. People around her tilted their heads in confusion, wondering who she was speaking with. They searched for the individual who was under this woman's wrath.

"If you don't like what I did then you should have told him you were married." Edwin insisted.

"He just said Hi---"

"He asked to keep you company!"

"Because you were keeping me company, right?" Jocelyn turned toward Edwin. He grew quiet, and she knew she had hurt him. Edwin could never keep her company. Not in public, not like that. It's not his fault, not something he could control. He's invisible. If he had it his way, he'd give her everything---mind, soul, and body. Their relationship was confined to the mist, and that's how it'll be until this lifetime is over.

"I'm sorry, Edwin." Jocelyn softened her voice. Perhaps it was the wearisome weather or the relentless downpour, but Jocelyn finally worked up the words she had feared to utter all her life. "I think it's best if we give each other some space."

She knew this was uncharted territory. She'd never asked him this before, and a part of her was horrified that she could even fathom the thought of being without Edwin. "I just---I can't do this anymore, baby. I'm sorry." She picked up her pace and headed home only to be pulled by an unseen force, straight into an embrace by an invisible man. Like the surface of smooth glass, she felt the subtle touch of his cool invisible arms enfolding her against his chest. There wasn't any warmth; there wasn't any human-like aspect to his being, no touch of skin, no pulse with a beat. His existence was incomprehensible, a mystery that had baffled Jocelyn for twenty-six years. As was her existence, her special ability to co-exist with an invisible man. But in rare moments like this, she doesn't feel alone because he is here---invisible to the eye, but still here. Jocelyn caressed Edwin in earnest. Her arms enfolded around a semblance of a body. She had missed his physical touch so much.

People swung their heads to inspect her odd behavior, and she always hated drawing this kind of attention, but she couldn't bear to part from this rarity; this moment when she could feel his body albeit it barely. Edwin's gentle voice emerged beside her ear, "I can't go away, Jo. I have nowhere else to go. I have nothing else to live for."

As soon as his presence came, it immediately vanished. Jocelyn looked up at where his face could be, she wanted him to see her brimming tears while she pleaded him to stay. But like that of air that can't be seen or grasped, his presence dissipated away.

He was in front of her, but nowhere to be seen or felt.

Jocelyn stood still as a crowd began to amass around her, watching her whimper in tears. She fell to her knees and cried without a care in the world. She couldn't pretend anymore, couldn't look everyone in the eyes and smile like everything was okay. Because it wasn't. The challenges of loving an invisible man were immeasurable. He couldn't physically touch her; couldn't wrap her in his arms, couldn't wipe her tears. He couldn't even pat her on the back. She'd built up the grit to handle herself in all aspect of her life, but the thought of spending forever like this was utterly dreadful. Yet she remained in this marriage because she loved Edwin. She loved him for everything he was and everything he could be. He loved her too; loved her so much. She could never abandon him.

"Stand back!"

Jocelyn lifted her head at the familiar voice. It's the man from the restaurant. He broke through the crowd and overlaid a rain coat over Jocelyn's wet, shaking body. Kneeling beside her, he wrapped his arms around her while gently patting her on the back.

"Come on everyone, this isn't a show." Wyatt shooed away the gawkers.

Jocelyn glanced at him, and her heart missed a near beat – much to her discomfort.

"It's okay to cry." He comforted her. "Sometimes that's all we've got." She liked him a little bit more. They rose to their feet, and she noticed her raincoat draped across her shoulders.

"Thank you," she sniffed and pulled her arms through each sleeve. "For this and---" she gestured at the parting crowd, but she doesn't dare glance at those mesmerizing eyes.

He smiled, "it's no problem. Besides, being an officer means I can use my authoritative voice." He chuckled, and she took a quick liking to his lighthearted demeanor.

"You're an officer?" asked Jocelyn as the downpour lightened.

"Mm-huh." He nodded. "Officer Wyatt Johnson. I'm one of the good guys working for the county." Wyatt reached out for a handshake.

Jocelyn stared at it. She knew that Edwin wouldn't be happy if she shook this man's hand. She looked up at Wyatt's 'please don't stand me up in public' expression and offered him a hesitant, flimsy handshake---enough to be polite, but not enough to welcome pursuit.

"Here." Wyatt handed her his business card. "Please call me if you ever need anything, even if you just need to talk. I don't have any ulterior intentions. I'm just...trying to be a friend." She could tell he wanted to say something else, but was uncertain about it. And she wanted to say that she was married, but it was not as if he was asking her on a date. 

She reluctantly accepted the glossy business card that gleamed underneath the overhanging lamp post. Tilting it away from the glare, she read his name, "Officer Johnson." She eyed him up and down. He's not in uniform.

"Off-duty." He half-smiled. She quickly averted her eyes before receiving the pleasure of his full smile.

"Thank you for this," she said as she placed the card inside her pocket and decided to come clean, "I'll let my husb---"

A faint glow suddenly caught the corner of her eyes. She turned toward the light and gasped. Oh God, thought Jocelyn. Is it possible? People around her began to dart their eyes in the direction of the light. Wyatt took a step toward the glowing aura that had just emerged out of thin air.

The crowd grew silent.

There, in the middle of the public eye, without fog or mist to bond him, Edwin is attempting to take physical form. The aura would have been faint during midday, but here, amongst the mere minutes before sunset, it pulsated in radiant oscillating wonder, emanating an awesome and bewildering experience to the naked eye. The aura seemed to beat rapidly, increasing faster with each passing second. The air suddenly felt hot and heavy, like an angry sun---expanding, relentless, like an imminent explosive bomb. It quickly grew in size and stature; its white light began to blind. Then as suddenly as it appeared, it vanished.

The crowd erupted in hysteria.

Don't forget to vote :)

Please note that none of the other chapters have been edited.