“Anything, Daddy.”
“Run. The fastest you can.”
“No,” I sob. “I won’t leave you.”
“Run!”
“Daddy!”
“RUN!”
A bang comes from behind me and harsh hands pull me by my hair.
He’s not moving.
Daddy isn’t moving.
Open your eyes. Tell me you love me. Don’t go to Eli. I need you more.
“Daddy!”
* * *
My eyes shoot open, chest heaving. I’m lying on my side, sweat beading on my brows.
Dad.
Oh, God. Dad.
Didn’t he die from the fire? How come he was surrounded by blood?
Or was that just my imagination?
No. The grief gripping me by the throat can’t be imaginary.
Tears threaten to spill free, but I hold them back when I recognise the weight spooning me from behind.
Aiden’s leg is wrapped around mine and his arm is securely tightened around my stomach.
His free hand draws patterns over my back.
The same patterns he’s always been drawing whenever we’re in the bath or after sex.
I stare at the light coming from the window.
Shafts of the sun peek through.
Sun after the rain.
Beauty after the storm.
The more Aiden touches me, the harder I fall into his warmth.
His unspoken emotions.
His unconditional acceptance.
I don’t turn around for fear that the spell may be broken. I don’t turn around because I can’t face him after yesterday.