This wasnotwhat I was expecting at all.
Of all the explanations my loud, messy brain had frantically drafted in the seconds I’d been standing here waiting for him to say something (and there werea lot, trust me), not one—not even the most unhinged ones—came close to this.
I hadn’t really bought the “I found you online” explanation like a sane person might’ve, but this?This?
My eyes were wide, my throat dry from having my mouth dropped open too long. I couldn’t form a single word. I didn’t want to stay frozen, but my brain was simply not braining.
“I’m sorry. What?” I finally managed. I wanted to laugh or scream, but all I could do was stand there, stunned. He looked nervous, as if he were genuinely afraid I was going to run— which I was considering. “Like Sleeping Beauty? A ‘Once Upon a Dream’ thing?” I went with the humorous comment. It was that or collapse. He appreciated and let out a laugh before his expression shifted back to a more serious one.
“Something like that,” he said, but there was more,because his eyes and shoulders looked a little more relaxed, but not all the way. Like he hadn’t let a full breath out. So I braced for whatever was coming next. “At first, I thought it was my mind messing with me, you know? Like some deep, unconscious thing about wanting to settle down and have kids. So I kept looking for someone who was like my dream… wife.”
Wife.
WIFE?
My inner monologue was losing its mind, my heart on the precipice of a worrying pace, but I strayed frozen, processing, trying not to freak thefuckout. I had kids I needed to raise, and Carol would never forgive me if I dropped dead in the middle of a date on a random Wednesday.
He stepped back and paced, rubbing the back of his neck. His steps were reluctant, his breaths low and deep but nowhere near steady. Oh. There was more. My brain begged for a pause button, but nope. We were in it now.
“If you follow any of the tabloids, you know… I didn’t find anyone,” he said, his voice quieter now, like it didn’t have the strength to share it out loud. “I was always comparing every woman I got involved with over the past, I want to say eleven, twelve years, to you. They were never enough, and eventually, they would all get tired of competing with a ghost.”
Myghost?
My brain was really struggling to make sense of it. Not because it was a foreign concept, because it wasn’t, I’d been dreaming about him too, but to make sense of the fact thatIhad been living onhishead.
“That’s… insane,” I said in the shakiest of voices. I wasn’t sure if I was saying it to him or to myself. My hand instinctively reached for the wall behind me, desperate for something solid to hold on to before my legs gave up on me.
Chris saw the panic written all over my face and didn’t hesitate. He got closer and took my hand gently. His touch was warm and so… familiar. Too familiar. He knew this was exactly what I needed at that moment, as if he’d done it a thousand times before.
“That’s what I thought, too,” he said while his eyes met mine. “But then… I found you. And you are her. You look the same, you sound the same, you… taste the same.”
Taste.
For a second, I was back in that kiss. In the warmth of his lips, a strange, familiar feeling like déjà vu on steroids. I didn’t even realize our fingers were intertwined now.
“It’s okay if you want to go.” He said, slowly letting go of my hand and taking a few steps back, giving me space. I could feel how hard it was for him to retreat, but he was trying to give me a choice.
My mind was a complete mess. Even messier than it usually was. What about Nova? Was he dreaming about her as well? Was this some elaborate prank? I bet there were hidden cameras around and a whole production crew waiting to laugh at my expense. That was theonlyplausible explanation.
I took two deep breaths, one after the other, pushing the panic down with each inhale. Chris’ eyes had already accepted defeat. He could barely look at me now, like he was bracing for the moment I’d turn, open the door, and leave. He had no idea of the why I was freaking out like this. He was probably expecting me to call him crazy, to suggest him find a therapist ASAP. He didn’t know his level of crazy matched mine exactly.
I had to say it. The truth I’d been too afraid to say outloud. And before I could even stop myself, the words slipped out.
“I’ve been dreaming about you, too.”
Chris’ expression shifted, moving from shock to something softer, like he was trying to process what I’d said without freaking me out. At least he wasn’t running for the hills, so… small win?
“What did you say?” He asked.
I took another shaky breath and closed the distance between us. It was out there now.Say everything you have to say already. My voice felt stronger this time, the words clearer and truer than I expected.
“I’ve been dreaming about you, too. Sometimes, even when I’m awake.”
He blinked. “What does that mean?”
“I found out it’s called Maladaptive Daydreaming,” I managed, my voice still shaky. “I daydreama lot, about this… other life. One where we’re together.”
His eyebrows shot up.
