Chapter 764 Sleeping in the Embrace of a Ghost
Celia looked downcast. "Finnegan can't handle this. Losing a loved one twice? It's unbearable."
It was like rubbing salt in the wound.
"If he gets through this, we won't have to worry about him. But if he can't..." Susan's voice trailed off. Everyone knew what that meant.
At night, the cemetery was creepy, especially for the faint-hearted. The weather turned, and it started to drizzle.
Finnegan's mind was on Ophelia. He got out of the car and stumbled toward her tombstone.
There were only a few lights on in the cemetery, and one shone on Ophelia's grave. Finnegan found it right away.
"Ophelia, Ophelia!"
Overwhelmed with grief, he rushed to her tombstone. The rain made the ground slippery, and he fell. He clung to the tombstone, soaked and miserable, crying out, "Ophelia, I'm here."
A sharp pain gripped his chest, making it hard to breathe.
How deep could grief go?
Finnegan cried until his body convulsed, his fingertips cold. He felt the blood in his veins turn icy.
"Ophelia, come back. Please come back. I was wrong. It was all my fault. My arrogance caused your death, Ophelia," he moaned in grief.
He lost control, climbing onto the grave and digging with his bare hands, desperate to see her one last time, even if it was just her ashes.
The rain poured harder. Finnegan was drenched and filthy, his hands bleeding, but he kept digging, oblivious to the pain.
He hadn't seen Ophelia one last time and could only cry in sorrow at her grave.
When Tate and Caspian arrived, they saw Finnegan frantically digging and were shocked.
Caspian wanted to stop him, but Tate held him back. "Let him vent."
Finnegan had been bottling up his grief for over a year. If he didn't let it out, he'd break down.
Caspian watched, unable to bear it. He'd never seen Finnegan like this—like a madman, covered in mud and blood.
In the rain, in front of Ophelia's grave, Finnegan was frantic, helpless, desperate, and heartbroken.
Caspian whispered, "Ophelia, are you watching? Finnegan's here to see you."
He couldn't watch anymore and turned away, wiping his eyes.
This wasn't the proud, clean-obsessed Finnegan he knew.
Exhausted from digging, Finnegan lay on the grave, kissing the tombstone, crying in despair. He felt Ophelia's presence. Others might be scared, but not him. It was Ophelia, the woman he loved most.
"Ophelia, I'm here. I know you're afraid of the dark, but with me here, you don't have to be." He kept talking, but no one answered. Ophelia was gone; no one would respond.
The rain blurred his vision. He seemed to hear Ophelia's voice, see her lying beside him, smiling, touching his face, asking, "Honey, why are you crying?"
Finnegan hallucinated, seeing Ophelia. Overjoyed, he said, "Ophelia, I miss you. They said you were dead. You're not dead, right? Ophelia, I miss you so much."
He cried, holding her. She was still so gentle, smiling, saying, "How could I be dead? I'm here. You're talking nonsense. Your hand is bleeding. How could you be so careless?"
"Ophelia." Finnegan reached out to touch her face, his eyes full of tenderness.
But to Caspian and Tate, Finnegan was just lying on the grave, talking to himself, sometimes crying, sometimes laughing.
Caspian asked Tate, "Tate, do you believe in ghosts? Could Finnegan really be seeing Ophelia?"
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