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I study her expression trying to understand further.
“When? How?” I finally ask.
“It’s not your time. You need to wait. You have so much left to learn here. So many people your path still needs to cross—some you’ve already met,” she says and I’m just left with even more bubbling questions.
“Like who?”
“Byzantine, for one,” she responds. Confused, my eyes narrow but she speaks before I have time to formulate a thought. “It’s time to remember where you’ve been, Sunny. He’s been waiting lifetimes for this moment.”
I blink, stunned into silence.
“What does that eve—”
“But this time you must choose differently. Please remember this, if nothing else.”
She then presses her hands to my face and all at once I’m left breathless, sucked out of the dream, and ripped away from River all over again.
My eyes snap open and I’m back in bed, Byzantine breathing softly beside me. It takes a moment for the dream to settle into my bones and when it finally does, I curl onto my side like I’ve been physically injured. The hole in my chest aches like a knife straight to my heart. The pain is so unbearable, I can barely breathe. It’s been years and I still can’t believe I’m left here to live a life without River.
Trying to be as silent as possible, I stifle back a sob, and slide off the covers. I wearily climb out of bed and down the stairs without waking Byzantine up. I notice his hoodie on the couch and I pull it over my head. It hangs down to my thighs covering my sleep shorts as I hug myself for warmth and slide the back door open, needing some fresh air.
It’s the early morning hours, the birds' chirps promising the upcoming rise of the sun but, for now, it’s still dark out. My attention immediately snags on the cliff in the distance and a chill travels down my spine, my subconscious tapping at my mind’s door but I’m still too scared to answer.
Chapter 45
Byzantine
Irolloverinbed, my hand seeking out Sunny’s warm body. When I find only rumpled sheets, a slow terror begins at the tip of my fingers and slithers up my arm and into my chest. I fly out of bed, my heart slamming into my ribcage.
Jumping to the worst conclusion, I picture her already at the cliff, yet again too far away to help. I’ve been here before. The worst case scenario has already happened and nightmares do come true. I trample down the stairs in only boxers, disheveled and panicked.
But then I catch a glimpse of her outside and shudder out an exhale, my heart pumping so fast it feels like I’ve been running for miles. I take a moment to collect myself before sliding the door open, trying my best to hide the absolute overreaction I just had from finding the bed empty.
Just from my nerves alone, bringing her here was a bad fucking idea. But it’s too late now. I can tell she hears me step onto the porch but doesn’t stir, her legs pulled under my hoodie she’s wearing, curved into a tight ball on the chair, her arms around her knees. It’s then I notice the tears staining her cheeks and my heart breaks at the sight.
“Sunny…” I say, my voice hoarse from having just woken up while I kneel in front of her but she evades my gaze.
“It’s nothing. I didn’t want to wake you,” she mutters, her lips trembling as she raises her hand to her face, the sleeve wrapped tightly around her fist, wiping away the wetness found there.
“Talk to me. What happened?”
Her eyes are locked on the cliff and cold dread drips down my throat like bitter medicine.
“Why does that cliff feel so…familiar?” she says, biting at the skin on her bottom lip, tears still flowing down her face. But the question isn’t aimed at me, like she just couldn’t help but to say it out loud. Finally her gaze finds mine, and for half a second I almost wish it didn’t because the grief I find swimming in the depths of her eyes nearly knocks me over.
“It was just a dream,” she croaks, her body coiling even tighter around herself. “But it felt so real…River felt so real.”
Realization dawns on me and I stand up and pull her into my arms. I’m surprised how easily she lets me. Taking her place, I pull her into me as she curls herself into a ball like before, except this time I can hold her close.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I whisper into her hair.
She stays silent for a moment, sniffling quietly as if lost in the memory of the dream but then says, “We were standing in the pool she drowned in…”
My heart lurches in my chest, but I say nothing, squeezing her tightly while she burrows into my chest.
“She kept telling me all these cryptic things…I barely remember now, I’ve tried but it’s all so vague already. It just left me feeling so sad and empty,” she mutters, a small sob spilling out of her lips. “I’m so tired of feeling like this,” she adds quietly.
I give her a soft kiss on the forehead. My knuckles trail her spine in a soothing manner, knowing that words don’t necessarily matter in this moment, my presence being comfort enough.
