Page 90 of Ex Somnis

“Because you look like this.”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re trying very hard not to feel something.”

Well.

That’s irritatingly accurate.

His thumb strokes lightly against my hair. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine.”

He looks me over with careful thoroughness, almost as if he’s conducting a damage assessment and trying not to alarm the patient. “You’re not fine.”

He comes up to sit next to me on the edge of the bed.

“I’m sorry we left you alone. I don’t know how long it’s been for you, but it’s only been a few hours for us.”

“It’s been a little more on my end, I think.” I shrug. “I don’t really know.”

“I’m sorry.” His hand strokes up and down my back.

“It’s fine.”

The way his whole face opened when he saw her.

It’s fine.

I dig my nails into my palm.

Something feels wrong.

Not Paul or Tessa. Me.

Like my skin is too tight.

The feeling has been building since I got here. The constant tug-of-war inside my chest. The part of me that pulls toward Ridge because of the deal. The part of me that pulls toward Tessa because she’s my tether. The part of me that wants waking life and the people there, while at the same time wants to stay exactly where I am, because at least then I don’t have to choose.

Everything rubs against everything else.

It feels like being trapped between sneezing and not sneezing, between laughing and crying, running and standing still. And now my brain has decided to latch onto this.

Six years.

Six years of sitting beside her and talking to her.

Six years of showing up.

Of course, he looked at her like that.

Why wouldn’t he?

Tessa is beautiful. Tessa is easy to love. Tessa has always been easy to love.

I shift farther away from Paul, only an inch, but he notices immediately.

Of course, he does.