“This is real, Zoe. And I’ve never hated you. I could never hate you,” he says, helping me out of my sweater.
“You’re not really here. You never have been. There is always a ticking timer in every person I meet.”
Dominik’s hand is around my hair as he fans it behind me, setting it free from my sweater, which is still stuck to me. “I’m never leaving. No matter what you say or do, I will always be here. Watching, waiting. No one else matters. It’s just you and me. You’re stuck with me.”
No one ever stays.
No one ever has and no one ever will. The thought burrows deep inside my chest, twisting and turning as the weight of it settles over me like a blanket.
I wish I didn’t yearn for everything I convince myself I hate. It’s a paradox—I crave the very things I feign disinterest in, creating a self-imposed restraint to protect myself from the ache of knowing I’ll never feel them. Touch them. Live the life I truly want. It’s a game of denial, isn’t it? We all construct these fronts to cover our vulnerabilities and to avoid pain. How am I any different from the rest?
“I’m here, Zoe. I’ve always been here, and I always will. You can’t get rid of me. No matter how much you say you hate me or how hard you try to push me away, it’s not going to work. I’ll wait forever if that’s what it takes. I will force it out of you if I have to. Burn the entire world down to prove to you that it’s real. That this has always been real.”
“Wow… You’re really poetic tonight,” I scoff.
“I mean every single word,” Dominik says.
“Nothing has changed,” I whisper, knowing my sense of reality and what exists are vastly different.
“Everything has changed.”
I feel Dominik’s warm palm press against my beating heart, and when I turn to look at him, he’s inches away, staring at me like he could lift us right out of this dream state. Like hecould turn this into a reality and give me everything I’ve always wanted.
“What happened?” He pulls open my fingers to reveal the fresh cuts from earlier today.
I may have gotten a little carried away earlier after everyone left the office.
I try to make a fist, but he doesn’t let me. “Nothing.”
“Did you do this on purpose?” he pushes.
“No. I’m fine. It was from all the roses earlier,” I lie.
“There were no thorns on the stems of the flowers.” His voice is darker somehow.
I don’t have a response. My head is all fuzzy, so I simply shrug.
“Why?”
“I don’t know,” I whisper.
“Yes, you do.”
I blink several times, trying to clear the fog from my brain and come up with some sort of clever lie. He’s staring down at my hand, the pads of his fingers gently tracing over the angry wounds.
“Why did you do it?” Dominik asks again.
“I don’t know. Sometimes I like the pain. It feels good, a reminder that I can feel something else.”
As our eyes meet, he lifts my hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss against my skin.
“I’m sorry, Zoe. For everything. I’m sorry.”
“Stop. I don’t want your apology.” I sigh. “You’re being such a bore. Stop bumming me out in my dream. This isn’t real, remember? Sex me up, mister.”
Dominik moves instantly, pressing into me as the back of his hand grips my hair, tilting my face up and forcing me to stare into his hazel and blue eyes.
Here we go. Finally, this dream is about to get good. I can’t help but smile, biting the edge of my lip and trying to hold back the excitement coursing through me.
