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“I don’t think I’ll ever get bored with you,” I say.
With a new purpose for our day, we head to the store to find all the junk food we could ever eat. We get candy, snack cakes, and even those popcorn toppers that come in a bunch of flavors.
The entire time we’re picking things out, we’re laughing like kids. It’s the most fun we’ve had since the attack. It’s the exact thing we both needed to remind ourselves that we can make even the bad moments fun.
When we get home, I force Carter to lie on the couch while I get our pallet of blankets made. He dictates exactly what he wants, and before I know it, there’s a massive pile of cushions on the floor, held together by sheets and blankets. It’s more comfortable than I anticipated and will be perfect for our marathon.
I get our snacks together on a couple of trays. One is covered in candy and chocolate. The other has three bowls of popcorn and all the toppings we bought. I carry one at a time over to where Carter has already snuggled into our makeshift bed. He gets the movie cued up as I bring the second tray over.
When we settle in, we chow down on our snacks. I never splurge on shitty food, so I’m taking full advantage of the moment, even if I’ll feel like crap later.
Despite all the sugar, Carter falls asleep within the first twenty minutes. He’s snuggled up against my chest, and I couldn’t be more content.
That is until Carter starts to moan. At first, I mistake it for a sexy noise. Then he does it again, and I know it’s out of fear. His face pinches with pain, and I can’t take it.
“Carter. You’re dreaming. Wake up for me, baby.”
He makes another heartbreaking noise. Words aren’t getting me anywhere, so I attempt to wake him with a gentle shake to his shoulder. I don’t want to hurt him, but I’m about to get desperate.
Finally, he gasps awake, his eyes darting around the room for a threat. When his gaze lands on me, he melts back into my chest. I hold him to me. I have no idea how to comfort him right now. What are the right words to say when the person you love most is hurting?
“I keep having dreams.” His words are quiet, and I’m tempted to pause the movie to hear him better, but I think that would make him clam up again.
“Well, they’re more like nightmares. It’s the same thing over and over again. I get home, two guys grab me, and then all of a sudden, they’re beating the shit out of me. I can feel every single strike. It’s as if it’s happening to me over and over again.”
“Oh, baby. That’s awful.” I press a kiss to the top of his head.
“You know, I think it would be different if I could remember the words they say to me while they’re beating me. I can hear someone telling me something, but it’s as if I’m wearing headphones or something. Their voice is muffled, so all I hear is the sound. Figuring out the reason they’re hurting me would give a purpose to the dreams. As it is, I just keep suffering without knowing why.”
“I’m going to suggest something that you can absolutely veto if you want.”
“What? Go talk to a therapist? I’ve thought about it. Honestly, I was hoping the dreams would stop soon, but if they don’t, I think I will.”
“Well, that’s a great idea. One you should really consider, but that’s not what I was going to say. I was wondering if you should get Jeffery to do some extra digging that the police maybe wouldn’t try since they wouldn’t have probable cause.”
“Huh. I guess after he confirmed Chase wasn’t a part of this, I didn’t think about getting him involved.”
“It may not bring up anything more than the nothing we’ve got, but it can’t hurt to have someone looking in places no one else is.”
“Yeah, I’ll send him an email and ask him to meet with us.”
We settled back into watching the movie. I hate that he’s struggling, but his saying ‘us’ instead of ‘me’ helps to calm my fears.
We’re in this together.
Turns out, having a PI on retainer means you can get a meeting set up the next day. When Carter emailed Jeffery yesterday, he told us he was already in town and could meet today. We were both surprised by his willingness to schedule something on short notice.
“Are you sure this is a good idea? I don’t want to mess up the police’s investigation.”
I haven’t been able to pinpoint exactly where Carter’s anxiety is coming from about this meeting, but he’s asked me that question three times since Jeffery confirmed.
“I’m positive. Jeffery is a seasoned professional. He wouldn’t do anything to interfere with your case.”
“Yeah, you’re right. I don’t know why I’m so anxious about this.” Carter grabs a glass pitcher from the cabinet and fills it with water. He’s also put sparkling water on the table for the meeting. I doubt any of it will even be touched, but I know it makes him feel better to have a task.
“Do you think you’re worrying about this being unsuccessful or having to talk about the attack again?”
Carter sets the full pitcher on the table. “Probably both. I still don’t remember much. Not even the dreams have jogged anything, and now I have to tell another person that I don’t remember a single thing about the attack. It makes me feel worthless.”
