“I can’t sleep because of the dream I had,” I admitted. “It was horrible.”
“Was I in it?” he asked.
I nodded. “Yes.”
“Then tell me.” He shrugged. “Whatever it was, it was only a dream, babe.”
“It’s stupid to let something like that bother me.” I tried to brush it off. I believed the words. I was too logical and rational to fall victim to a nightmare.
“Doesn’t matter. It’s keeping you from getting sleep. And I’m up, so let’s hear it. What happened in the dream? Why did you scream like that?”
The chill seeped into my veins.
“I watched you die,” I whispered.
“Whoa.”
I didn’t think I could look at him. “It was only a dream. I know that.”
He sat on the floor, his back pressed against the wall under the windows. “Is this because of tomorrow? Because I’m going to be fine. I’ve been doing this a long time now. I’m very good at my job.”
I knew exactly how good he was.
“You don’t have anything to worry about.”
“How can you say that? How do you know that?” I spat the questions.
“I just do. This is Paris. We’re going to eat croissants and see the Eiffel Tower. I’ll take you to the art museums. The food is—”
“I don’t care about French food. I care about whether you live or die. Whether all that changes tomorrow.”
He sighed. “I don’t know any other way to tell you. You’ll get used to it, Em. Once we get in a routine and you see how normal it can be, you won’t be worried like this. You’ll sleep again. I promise.”
“I don’t know if I’ll ever sleep again.” I shoved myself from the chair and walked to the kitchenette to pour something to drink. I wanted water, but reached from the bottle of wine instead. We had opened it after dinner.
“What are you doing?”
“Having a drink.” The wine sloshed in the glass.
I didn’t know if he thought I was coming off the rails, but I did. I inhaled the wine, chugging until the glass was empty.
“Feel better?” He stood in front of me.
“Maybe.”
He took the bottle from my hand and placed it out of reach. “On the plane this morning you said you were excited. Did you mean it?”
“What?” My eyes flashed to his.
“Tell me. Are you excited about our life? Because if you’ve had second thoughts, I’ll send you back to DC. You don’t have to do this. I realize what I’ve asked of you. You could be in your own bed by tomorrow. You and Greer can catch up. Call your mom and tell her you’re sorry you missed Thanksgiving. They’ll forgive you. They’ll never know you left with me. Is that what you want?”
“You want to send me away?” I whispered.
“Fuck no.” He slammed his fist on the counter. “That’s the last thing I want. But I don’t know what to do. You’re scared. You can’t sleep. You have a few days before all hell breaks loose at the bureau. A few days left before they start to search for you and your identity is no longer your own.
“My job starts tomorrow. I can’t do it if you’re only half in this with me. This is your last chance to resume your life. Your old life as Emily Charles. Is that what you want? Do you want me to let you go?”
The wine tingled through my arms until my fingertips were warm. My mouth felt dry.