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But of course, it’s impossible.
When I finally fall asleep, it’s him that I dream of. I dream of myself standing in the doorway of his hotel room, in the red dress from the first night, a key in my hand. He’s sitting on the bed, head down, and when he raises his face to look at me, it’s as if I’m a stranger. It’s still the most handsome face I’ve ever seen, but the expression there cuts me to the core.
“Niall—” I breathe his name in the dream, stepping inside the room, but he’s on his feet instantly, striding towards me.
“Who are you?” he growls angrily, those sapphire blue eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Why do you have a key to my room?”
I feel my heart wrench in my chest, tears welling in my eyes. “You know me,” I whisper, reaching for him, but he pushes my hand away.
“I have no idea who you are,” Niall says flatly. “You shouldn’t be here.”
He swipes the key from my hand, pushing me backward, out of the room. “You need to leave before something worse happens.”
“Something—” I blink up at him, confused. “What are you talking about, Niall? You asked me to meet you here—”
“I don’t know you,” he repeats firmly. “Don’t come here again.”
The door closes an inch from my nose, and I hear the sound of it locking.
Around me, walls close in. I was in the hall, but now I’m in another room, an empty one, where I’m all alone. I can hear Niall’s voice, talking to another woman, telling her how much he loves her. Telling her he should never have left, that he was always loyal to her, and when I fling myself at the wall where I can hear his voice, I bang my hands on the wood, but no one hears me.
The walls are getting closer and closer. I’m banging on the wood until my fists are bloody, but I’m all alone, and any moment now, the room will crush me.
I wake up with a jolt. It’s still dark out, as if I’ve hardly slept at all, and the room is still cold, but I’m drenched with sweat. My heart is racing, and I press my hand to my chest as I remember Niall’s voice in the dream, and I start to cry all over again.
I have no idea who you are.
It’s true. He never really did—and it’s no one’s fault but mine.
