GOOSE: IM OUTSIDE WATCHING THE BUILDING PLEASE REST EASY
Oh my god.
Not just oh my god.
But…
OH. MY. GOD.
Goose.
GOOSE: TRENT
Trent.
GOOSE: Yeah
I honestly don’t know how to respond to his words. I want to thank him, but at the same time, I don’t know how. Do I thankhim for watching over me, or do I ask him to leave? But I don’t want him to leave. I want him to come up here and hold me.
To stay with me… forever.
Thank you.
GOOSE: SLEEP WELL BABY ILL BE HERE WATCHING OVER YOU
The assault on my eyes causes me to smile. His non-punctuation really makes me smile. Tucking my hand beneath my chin, I lie on my side, resting my cheek against the pillow. My eyelids grow heavier with each blink, and by the third one, I’m lulled into sleep.
Though, it’s not a peaceful one.
I have one nightmare after another, then again, before I wake up with a gasp. Sitting up, I place my hand against the center of my chest, my breathing coming out in heavy pants. Pressing my lips together, I roll them a few times as I attempt to gather myself.
The sun is spilling into the room through the window. It’s daylight. Glancing at my phone, I realize that I slept for five hours, if not peacefully.
It was as perfect as I could have hoped.
Maybe tonight, I can get a whole six hours.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CIDNEY
Lainey walksout of her bedroom, her sleepy eyes searching the living room. They don’t find me there. I’m in the kitchen. After about an hour more of sleep evading me, I decided to at least try to do something nice for Lainey. I started a pot of coffee, cut up some fruit, scrambled some eggs, and started a grocery order because I can’t stay here and invade her space, plus eat all her food.
“What’s all this?” she asks as she shuffles toward the kitchen, yawning.
“I couldn’t sleep, so I started some breakfast.”
“Wow,” she exhales. “That’s really nice. I appreciate it.”
“When do you go to the bakery?”
I’m asking because when she leaves, I’ll be alone, and inwardly, I’m freaking the fuck out about that. Or maybe it’s not so inwardly, because I watch as she frowns, then slides her tongue along her bottom lip as if she’s trying to think of what to say.
She can’t invite me to hang out with her, and she’s trying to think of a nice way to let me down about that. I haven’t looked at my reflection yet, but I assume I appear pretty rough, and it wouldn’t be a good idea for me to sit around a bakery looking like I just survived a brutal attack… which I did.
“I’m supposed to leave in about an hour,” she murmurs.
“I know I can’t go with you. Please don’t think I’m asking. I’m too sore to even try, even if I wanted to.”
