Okay, there’s more than a little pride swelling inside me right now. “She’s never done anything like that before?”
“No, Sir. I’ve always wanted to try it, though. She won’t do it for me.”
Booyah!
Suck onthat, Ms. Blaine. “Why won’t shedo it with you?”
“She’s too worried about the risk.”
I snort, even though I didn’t mean to.
“What?” he asks.
I sigh. “I guess everything looks a lot less risky in contrast to what I survived.”
* * * *
Over the next week, Declan’s schedule, and mine, and Casey’s, are packed. I’m actually so exhausted from the weekend, and from making love to him Sunday night after we return to my house, thatI still manage to sleep halfway decently, by my new standards, on Monday and Tuesday nights. But somewhere between Monday and Tuesday, I start faintly hearing the wind again, and the screams. Not like before, but the noise is definitely returning.
I know Declan and Casey won’t have any time together this week, because of meeting schedules and work. They’re supposed to spend Friday night together,then I get him Saturday night after the fundraiser, and on Sunday.
I’m sure there’s a divorce and visitation joke in there somewhere, but I really don’t want to make it, because then I’d be forced to confront all the ethical issues with this entire situation.
Meanwhile, Declan texts with me, and we talk on the phone at night before I go to bed, so it’s not like we have zero personal contactwith each other.
It feels like we’re actually dating, in a way. It’s not just the sexy time.
We’re becoming closer than ever before, even as we can’t spend any time together.
I don’t sleep as well on Wednesday as I did Monday and Tuesday, but there aren’t any nightmares.
That’s okay. Because Thursday night makes up for it, to the point I awaken from a nightmare so vivid and terrifying I immediatelycall Case at two a.m., in hysterics, to assure myself she’s not dead. She races over and climbs into bed with me, sitting there and holding me, rocking me as I sob with relief that she’s safe, while she assures me the kids and Declan are fine, too.
I don’t even give a shit I’m naked—neither does she, apparently—and she’s dressed in Winnie the Pooh PJs.
In the nightmare, we wereallon the plane—notjust me and Ellen, but the kids, my brothers, Casey.
Susa, Carter, and Owen.
And Declan.
Despite how desperately I tried, I couldn’t save any of them from the plane. And then I couldn’t drown myself. No matter what I did, Icouldn’tdie.
I washed up on that fucking island, and all their bodies appeared there, too.
Somehow, I fall asleep again.
When the alarm on her phone goes off at fivea.m., she’s sitting up against the headboard, dozing but not asleep. I’m curled almost into a ball, my head in her lap and my arms wrapped around her the way I’ve held Declan before.
She ruffles my hair. “Tell me about the nightmare.” I don’t want to, but I do anyway. When I finish, she sadly sighs and plays with my hair again. “Do you want me to clear your calendar today and say you’re sick?”
I sit up shaking my head. “No. I’m sorry.”
She studies me. “I’ll send Declan over later tonight, all right? He’s got a five p.m. meeting that’ll probably run until at least seven or eight, though.”
Guilt washes through me. “I thought he was spending tonight with you?”
“I’mnot the one panicking at two a.m. over a nightmare, honey. When you called, I thought you were going to tell me somethinghorrible happened to Aussie or the boys. You scared thecrapout of me.”
