AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Almost another hour passes before I begin to drift. My mind in that hazy place between consciousness and subconsciousness.
And then Idaline jerks in her sleep. Her arms jerk. Her leg kicks out, nearly kneeing me. Flopping onto her back, she mumbles incoherently and is deathly still. She falls silent and then clutches at her chest, gasping for breath. Is this what her nightmares consist of? Her mouth opens wide. My heart hurts when I hear a quiet whine. Like she’s trying to scream, but that’s all she can do.
Unable to take it anymore, I shake her awake. That’s almost as bad as watching her sleep. She startles awake, chest heaving, and terrified eyes wide.
“You were having a nightmare,” I explain what she must already know.
Her shoulders fall. “Is it crazy to say I was hoping I wouldn’t have one while I was here with you?”
I shake my head. “Of course not. Do you want to talk about it?”
“No. You go to sleep.” She grabs her phone off her nightstand. “I’m going to stay up for a bit.”
This doesn’t sound like a good idea. I do lay down for a bit, hoping she’ll fall asleep, but I fall asleep watching her reading, either something on the Internet or a book. Unfortunately, I wake up and find her in the exact same position.
“Are you talking to your therapist about your sleep and lack of it?”
She glances over at me. “I sleep.”
“That’s not what I asked, Idaline.” I push myself up and face her.
“He knows I have nightmares.”
“And that you stay up all night after you wake up from one?” I ask. Idaline sighs, which pisses me off. “You’re exhausted, Idaline. How do you think that helps you overall? You’ve always told me that you need things to work together for you to be well. That if one thing gets out of whack, it allows for everything to follow suit and make things worse. Your sleep isn’t what it should be and you’ve gotta be suffering because of that. It has to be affecting everything else.”
“I’m handling it, FC!” she shouts at me. “Leave it the fuck alone, okay?” There’s a harshness in her voice that’s never been there before.
I stare at her a second before nodding. Sawyer hollers from the other room and I stand to get him. A terrifying thought hits me. Are all women like Lila? To think Idaline is anything like Lila makes me want to cringe, but her snapping at me like that sent me back to a place when I was with Lila. Little incidents like that led to the abuse with Lila. Will the same thing happen with Idaline?
The floodgates open just like that. Every horrible memory with Lila covers my mind, but so does our beginning. How I loved her at first and how we were happy in the beginning. Fear embeds itself into every inch of my skin that I’m having a repeat of that type of relationship with Idaline. She couldn’t possibly be like her, could she?
I barely pay attention when Idaline emerges from my room with her bag, ready to leave. There’s no protest or plea for her to stay. She gets a kiss and a send off from Sawyer and me. We eat and then I take Sawyer to my parents’ house, claiming I need to run errands. All I need is some time to think. To convince myself that I’m crazy for thinking such a thing.
But the memories of my relationship with Lila are on repeat and so is the tone of Idaline’s voice. My scars seem to burn and itch and be overall uncomfortable. Then I find myself at the liquor store. I stare at the tequila bottle, suddenly so damn thirsty.
This is not where I should be.
You’re so damn worthless!
All I ask is that you be a man and you can’t do that much.
Leave it the fuck alone!
The bottle is in my grasp and paid for within two minutes. Does this mean I’ll have to break up with Idaline? I can’t go through another relationship like the one I had with Lila. I can’t do it. And I don’t want Sawyer around it. This can’t be.
Yet I’m drinking from the tequila bottle before I’ve taken two steps from my car.
I’ve never felt so conflicted in my life about everything.
A few hours after I left FC’s apartment, I get a phone call from him. There’s some relief because I feel guilty over how I left this morning. But exhaustion can cause some bad reactions in people. I’m absolutely horrified when I answer the phone, though.
“Idaline,” he slurs. “Tell me you won’t turn into Lila. No, no, no. Promise me.”
“Are you drunk?”
“I didn’t mean to; I’m so sorry. Please don’t beat me.”
What in the hell? “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m coming over, okay? You’re home, right?”
