Page 299 of The Professor's Wife

I drew another breath in, but when I blew it out, it was shaky and weak.

The dream dissipated within seconds, already escaping my reach. I slowly turned my head to the side and watched the rise and fall of Oliver’s chest as he slept peacefully in the bed beside me. I looked away from him quickly and very slowly slipped out of bed.

It was hardly five in the morning when I stepped out of the bedroom. Far too early to be making breakfast. Far too late to go back to sleep.

I didn’t want to sleep, either. Not after waking up feeling like this.

My legs were shaky as I trudged to the kitchen. The silence was interrupted by the intermittent clicks of the air conditioner and the constant low hum of the air purifier. I paused only briefly to peer into Rowe’s bedroom. My heart tugged as I gaped at the room, that strange feeling of loss intensifying. Frowning, I closed the door and continued down the long hallway.

Something was wrong.

I stepped into the spotless kitchen and stopped at the counter. My body knew what it should be doing. I could be preparing for Oliver’s breakfast. Two strips of bacon and a boiled egg. I removed the kitchen knife off the magnetic holder and opened the drawer. I pulled out the chopping board and set it on the counter.

It’s too early.

I knew that, but there was nothing else to do. My purpose was Oliver.

I looked at the oven clock, unable to shake the feeling that something was very wrong and it had to do with my nightmare.

I put the knife down and walked out of the kitchen. That heavy feeling grew in my stomach as I walked down the corridor. I nervously glimpsed over my shoulder. The back of my neck prickled. The way it did when someone gave chase to you. My heart quickened as I stopped and spun around, staring at the darkness like there was something there.

There was nothing.

I didn’t move for a few moments, waiting. When nothing happened, I began to turn back and stopped, my eyes catching on the blown-up photo of my wedding day. It was too dark to see all the details, but I knew it by heart.

I approached the picture and raised my hand, taking the moment to pay attention to the one figure I desperately missed.

I traced my sister’s soft face.

She was smiling back at me, but I knew her smile was hollow. She was hurting here, and I was too focused on my own fairytale to notice.

“I have to do something, Daisy…I just have to. It’s the only way to stop these nightmares.”

I always wondered what her nightmares consisted of.

I tore my gaze away from her face and stared at Rowe. My chest tightened. An enormous pain spread across my chest like wildfire. I almost doubled over at the grief, shocked by the suddenness of it. That prickly feeling returned, and my unease grew like cement in my stomach.

I backed away from the picture quickly, my skin now slick with sweat as I raced back up the steps, determined to go back to bed.

Stop.

The voice in my head wasn’t angry or panicked. The word came as a gentle, affectionate caress over my body. I halted immediately, and though my body urged me to go to bed, my mind prodded at me to relax.

Nothing’s wrong. You’re okay.

Daisy, you’re alright.

Then why was I so jumpy? Why did I feel like something very bad was about to happen?

I didn’t go to the bedroom. On trembling legs, I inched to the only space that was mine. I nearly collapsed into the chair of my nook. Exhaustion weighed me down, and I closed my eyes, determined to enter that dreamy place between sleep and wakefulness.

But it didn’t come.

All I saw when I closed my eyes was a dark place. The same place I jolted awake to escape from.

That’s not all you saw.

There was something else in my dream. An image I was trying to grasp. It sat on the fringes of my mind, just out of view.