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My sweet Thea shouldn’t have to feel this much pain.
As I perch on the edge of the mattress and pat her shoulder, I croon, “Sweetheart, wake up. It’s just a nightmare.”
She jerks under my hand and whimpers, “Please, no.”
“Thea, baby, you’re okay.” I keep my touch feather-light, my fingers barely brushing her bare shoulder. “You’re safe.”
A low moan starts in her throat. “I’m sorry,” she moans softly, “I’m so sorry.”
God.
“Thea. Sweetheart.” I shake her shoulder a little harder. “Wake up.”
Please. I can’t stand this, not being able to comfort her.
With a sharp cry she jolts awake, sitting up so quickly her head almost smashes me in the chin. Her eyes are huge in her pale face, wide and frightened. Clutching the sheet with trembling hands, she whispers, “Oh, Ben.”
I drag her into my arms and she shivers against me. “Sweetheart, it’s okay.” Her face is pressed into my neck, hot tears dampening my skin.
“Dad? Is everything okay?” Laila’s hovering in the doorway, her stuffed bunny under her arm. Her little face is worried. “Is Thea sick?”
Thea stiffens in my arms and starts to pull away, but I tighten my embrace, holding her still.
“Thea’s okay, sweetie. She just had a bad dream.”
“Oh.” Laila goes quiet for a second. “Are you going to help her fall back to sleep?”
“Yeah, I am. But everything’s fine, I promise. Just go back to sleep. Okay?”
After another long pause, Laila bobs her head at me. “Okay. But—”
While I talk to Laila, I can feel Thea trying to pull herself together—sucking in long, shuddering breaths and sniffling softly.
“What, Laila?”
“Does Thea want a hug?”
My heart squeezes. “Oh, sweetie. That’s so nice of you, but I’m not sure if she’s up to it yet—”
“That would be nice.” Thea lifts her head and turns to Laila. In a small voice, she says, “I’d really like that.”
Oh. My heart.
I’ve seen a lot of miraculous things in my life. People half-dead coming back to life. Lives saved in the most precarious of positions. But this…
My precious daughter wraps her small arms around Thea, patting her hair and whispering, “It’s okay. I used to have bad dreams, too. But Dad can make them go away.”
And the woman I love—yes, love, not falling; I’ve already fallen—hugs Laila back and answers quietly, “I feel better already.”
It’s a moment I’ll remember forever.
As Laila heads back to her bedroom, she stops in the doorway and tells me solemnly, “Dad. You should stay with Thea tonight. In case she has any more bad dreams.”
When I look back at Thea, her chin is wobbling, fresh tears leaking from her eyes. Once Laila is out of sight, she buries her face in my neck again.
She doesn’t talk, and I don’t push her.
I’m not sure how long we sit like this, my hand stroking up and down her back, my lips pressing against her hair. But finally, Thea takes a deep breath, sits back, and looks at me. “It was a different dream this time.”
