I hear the trill of the doorbell, but I sigh and stay put. I can’t bring myself to deal with visitors, not now, not when I’m in this state. But the doorbell rings again. And then a third time. I sigh again and stand up. It must be something important if whoever is at the door can’t just leave me the hell alone. I walk into the foyer, take a deep breath and unlock the door, trying to compose myself before I open it. Whoever it is, I can’t let them know that I’ve been crying. Finally, I slowly swing it open, and stare face to face with my old friend Mike.
	“Hi Steve.”
	“Hey Mike.”
	“I know it’s late and I’m sorry to bother you, but I wanted to check in on you.”
	“Thanks for your concern,” I lie. “But I’m doing fine. I was just about to go to bed.”
	“You’re not doing fine Steve, you look like shit. Can I come in? It’s damn cold out here.”
	“Sure, if you want. But I don’t think I’ll be very good company right now.”
	“That’s fine,” Mike says, stepping through the doorway and taking off his coat. “I can do most of the talking.”
	We walk into the living room and I sit down on the couch, but Mike stays standing, looking around the room.
	“Would you like coffee or tea or something?” I ask.
	“No, that’s alright,” Mike replies. “I’m really sorry about what happened, Steve. I can’t imagine what you’re feeling now that Hannah’s gone.”
	“Honestly Mike, I feel… hollow inside. I can’t bring myself to do anything.”
	“That’s why I’m here Steve, I’m worried about you. Hell, everyone’s worried about you. You’ve been locked up inside your house for a month now, no one’s seen you, you haven’t been to work, have you even gone outside?”
	“It’s like I said, I have no motivation,” I sigh. “It’s hard enough to get out of bed in the morning.”
	“Well, you’re not making it easy on yourself.” Mike says. “Hannah’s stuff is all over the place! Her photos are still on the wall, her books are still on the bookshelf, and I bet if I went into the bathroom I could find her toothbrush! Look, I don’t want to sound callous, we’ve been friends since third grade—”
	“Second grade,” I interject.
	“Whichever,” Mike says. “I know you’re mourning but letting go is part of the healing process. You might feel better if you get rid of Hannah’s stuff, I can help you with it if you like”
	My blood boils, and I look Mike dead in the eyes.
	“Get out, now” I say. “You on your high fucking horse, judging me, when you yourself said you have no idea what I’m going through right now—”
	“Alright, Alright,” Mike says rising from his chair. “I get it, you don’t need to shout. I’m sorry I brought it up.”
	Mike walks out of the room and I hear the front door open.
	“Call me if you need anything,” Mike exclaims.
	And then it slams shut.
	I sigh and get out of my chair. Mike could have been right, but it’s too early. I don’t know if I can ever let go. I yawn, suddenly exhausted. It’s late. I want to go to bed. I need to go to bed. If I’m asleep, then I’m not thinking about her.
***
	I jolt up in my bed to the sound of knocking on the front door. Is it Mike again? No, it’s three o’clock in the morning. I kick off the covers and stand up. Is it a burglar? What kind of prick knocks on someone’s door at three in the morning? I leave my bedroom and walk downstairs to the foyer, staring at the front door.
	“Is anyone there?” I say. “I’m not going to open the door to a stranger at 3 AM.”
	There’s no response.
	Probably just a bored teenager, I think to myself.
	And then I smell it. Vanilla scented perfume. Hannah’s perfume.
	A shiver runs up my spine, and I stand there, paralyzed. Is it a prank? Did she not die? Was it all a mistake? I think to myself.
	And then I hear it, just a whisper, almost imperceptible but unmistakably someone calling my name.
	“Steve… Steve… I’m home… where are you?”
	It’s Hannah’s voice. I’m sure of it.
	“Steve… I miss you. Come out from wherever you’re hiding.”
	My mind goes blank, and I trudge out of the bathroom and into the living room. And then I see it. It is Hannah. It must be, but something’s wrong about her. She’s wan, paler than I’ve ever seen her, like a washed-out photograph. And I can see through her, she’s translucent, transparent, crystalline. My knees begin to shake, and I open my mouth to say something, but all that comes out is a gasp.
	Hannah turns around, her face breaking into a broad smile as she sees me.
	“There you are Steve,” she says. “I had an awful day at work today, and it feels like the drive home took weeks. I missed you.”
	“Hannah… How is this possible?” I say.
	“What do you mean? Am I not allowed to live here anymore?” She giggles, then focuses on me. “What’s with you? You look sick.”
	“H-Hannah,” I stutter. “You’re not supposed to be here. You died, almost a month ago.”
	“That’s not funny Steve, what kind of joke is that?”
	“It’s not a joke, Hannah. I-It was a drunk driver, he hit you, on your drive home from work”
	“Seriously Steve, this is a really lame prank.”
	“Look at yourself Hannah,” I shriek “You’re transparent!”
	“What?” She says looking down at her hands. “No, no, I’m just a bit pale right now. Maybe I’m coming down with something.”
	“No Hannah, think back,” I plead. You have to remember. I don’t know how you came here but it isn’t right.”
	“I-I was driving. It was dark out and raining. I remember getting on the highway and then there were headlights and… Oh my god.”
	“You remember now, don’t you?”
	She pauses for a moment trying to say something, but just breaks down in tears.
	I rush to her side. I can’t stop myself. Even if she’s a ghost, she’s still my wife. I try to put my hand on her shoulder, but it just goes through her.
	 “You must have come back for a reason right, Hannah? Do you have some unfinished business you need to take care of or something?”
	Her sobs stop, and she looks at me, and suddenly laughs.
	“Me, unfinished business? What about you, you look like shit. Have you even left the house since I died?”
	“Um, no, it’s been… tough”
	“Hey, you don’t get to complain. I’m the one who died here,” she sighs. “But I think I know why I came back now, it was to say goodbye.”
	“You came a long way just to say goodbye, Hannah.”
	“Don’t be glib Steve, this is important. You’re killing yourself for my sake. And you don’t have to, I don’t want you to. You need to let me go.”
	“I don’t know if I can let you go. You’re the most important thing in the world to me.”
	“No Steve, I was the most important thing in the world to you. You have to start living for yourself now. She reaches out and touches my cheek. “Goodbye for now Steve, but I think I’ll see you again.”
	“Goodbye, Hannah,” I whisper, and before my eyes she disappears.
	***
	I wake up the next morning, feeling better than I have in weeks. I grab my cellphone from my bedside table and dial Mike’s number.
	“Hey Mike, it’s Steve. I’m sorry about what I said last night. You were right, I need to move on. Could you come over and help me move some stuff?”