He nodded faintly but didn’t look at me. “It was the dream,” he admitted after a beat, his voice thick and shaky. “I—” He broke off, closing his eyes and breathing carefully through his nose.
“I know. Take your time,” I said, keeping my tone even.
For a few long moments, the only sound was his unsteady breathing. Then he whispered, “It was so real this time. I see it whenever I close my eyes, pretending it never happened is so hard, this time I couldn’t get out of it.”
I nodded, though I knew he wasn’t looking at me. “You’re out now,” I said gently. “You’re safe. It’s just your body catching up.”
He let out a shuddering breath, his hands loosening their grip on the sink just a fraction. “My sisters,” he mumbled suddenly, blinking as if coming out of a daze. “They’re supposed to come over—”
“They’re not here yet,” I interrupted, squeezing his shoulder lightly. “And when they get here, they’ll understand if you’re not up for company.”
“No,” he said quickly, his voice still strained. “I’ll be fine by then. I just—” He broke off again, turning around to face me with strained eyes, flushed cheeks, leaning tiredly against the sink.
I stood up and shifted so I was standing behind him, one hand steadying his shoulder while the other kept his hair away from his face. “Wynter, you don’t have to push yourself for anyone, okay? Not for me, not for them. They’d rather know you’re resting than see you like this.”
He hesitated, pinching the bridge of his nose as another wave of nausea hit him. “I don’t want them to see me like this,” he admitted finally, his voice barely above a whisper.
“I know,” I said, leaning closer so my cheek almost brushed his temple. “But right now, you need to take care of yourself. You’re allowed to have bad mornings, Wyn. You don’t have to do this alone.”
He closed his eyes, his head dropping forward. For a moment, he just breathed, slowly and deeply, as I held him steady. Then he whispered, “Thanks, Yesoh.”
I smiled faintly, though he couldn’t see it. “Always.”
When his breathing evened out a little more, I gave his shoulder a light squeeze. “Come on, let’s get you back to bed. I’ll bring you some water.”
He didn’t argue this time, letting me guide him out of the bathroom. I stayed close, my hand resting lightly on his back, ready to catch him if he stumbled.
As I settled him onto the bed, I saw the exhaustion in his face, the shadows of the nightmare still clinging to him. But he looked at me with something softer in his eyes—trust, maybe, or something close to it.
“Do you want to tell me what you saw?” I asked him, grabbing ahold of both his hands staring deeply into his weary eyes.
“It was that day.” He told me, “4th of December, winter 2017.”
“I see.” I looked down.
“We were on lake and…she was still here, and I tried to help, I tried—” he said, but I could see that it was only distressing him more.
“You don’t have to explain ,Wynnie, I know,” I reassured him, tears pooling in my eyes for him. I would feel what he couldn’t express, what was quite literally making him sick from the inside out. The kind of tragedy that clawed at you and demanded transparency. But not today, he couldn’t do words and explanations today and I knew what that was like all too well.
And that was enough.
The knock at the door was quick and impatient, followed by a familiar voice calling out, “Open up, Wyn, or we’re breaking in!”
Wynter glanced at me from where he sat on the couch, and for a moment, I thought he might ask me to stall. His pale face and the slump of his shoulders made it clear he wasn’t ready, but instead, he took a deep breath, straightened his posture, and stood.
“Got it,” he called, his voice stronger than I expected. He turned to me with a faint smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “They’ll just keep yelling if I don’t.”
I watched as he crossed the room, his steps steady but not entirely confident. I had to give him credit—he was trying, even if it was costing him.
When he opened the door, Beck and Bae burst in like a storm. Beck, her long hair bouncing wildly, pulled him into a tight hug, while Bae darted around her, snapping a picture on her phone.
“Look who’s alive!” Beck teased, pulling back and ruffling his already messy hair.
“Barely,” Wynter shot back, but his grin was quick and effortless. “You two never let me have a quiet day, do you?”
“Not when we’ve got plans,” Bae said, looping her arm through his and pulling him toward the couch. “Museum day! You’re not backing out, right?”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said smoothly, letting her drag him along.
