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Just when I thought we could talk about our differences and have a real conversation, Jonathan has to ruin it.
No reply comes through.
It should be around eight in the morning in China right now, but he could be too busy to reply.
I’m about to try to go back to sleep when my phone vibrates in my hand, making me shudder.
Aiden: I’m always here for you, sweetheart.
My heart does that flip-flopping thing like it’s having a crush on Aiden all over again.
Aren’t we over that phase already, heart?
Before I can reply, my screen lights up with another text.
Aiden: Did you have another nightmare?
God. He knows me so well. Under normal circumstances, I would be fast asleep at this time.
Elsa: Half-nightmare. Half-dream.
Aiden: Do tell.
Elsa: It was about you.
Aiden: I told you, one day you’ll dream about me like I dream about you. Was it kinky?
Elsa: No.
Aiden: Half-kinky?
Elsa: What does half-kinky even mean?
Aiden: It means I tied you to the bedpost and fucked you for an entire day.
I bite the inside of my cheek, my temperature rising.
Elsa: No. It wasn’t like that.
Aiden: It wasn’t, huh? Funny because that’s what I dreamt about. We need to synchronise our dreams.
I suppress a smile. What type of magic does Aiden possess to make me feel better even through texts?
Elsa: If I ask you to tell me about the past, will you?
I expect him to think about it, to tell me I’m not ready, but the reply is immediate.
Aiden: Whenever you wish.
A stuttering breath heaves out of me. The type of breath which lifts some weight off my chest. Not all the weight, but the relief is there, as tiny as it is.
Elsa: Thank you.
Aiden: Don’t thank me until you know all the facts.
My hand turns clammy around the phone. In the back of my mind, there’s a giant box titled The Truth Isn’t Easy, but his words magnify that box, it’s becoming wider and bigger than what my head can contain.
Dad and I talked about my missing memories, alone and with Dr Khan. My shrink recommended that I remember it on my own without hearing retellings, and Dad complied.
