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“More lies,” I drawled.
He chuckled. “I’ve distracted you from your sleep for long enough. Close your eyes and get the rest that you need.”
I sighed, but closed my eyes. “I rarely manage to actually get any rest while I sleep.”
“Maybe tonight will be different.” His hand slid out of my hair and stroked my back slowly and softly. Just the sweetness of that physical contact was enough to make my body feel more relaxed and at ease than I’d thought I would ever feel again a few months earlier.
But that was a few months ago.
Now…
Now, everything was different.
As much as I wanted to feel worried about that, to be terrified of this new version of my future, I wasn’t afraid.
Honestly, I felt almost hopeful.
“What would you think if we had sex tomorrow and then found out I was pregnant a few days later?” I whispered.
Espen was quiet for a long enough moment that I wondered if he thought I might hate his response, whatever it was.
He finally admitted, his voice low and rough, “I’d wonder how a bastard like me got so fucking lucky. And I’d probably never let go of you again.”
I bit my lip, hard.
Dammit, why did he have to be such a good man? Why did he have to make things so easy? I’d planned on hating him, on killing him, on…
Well, honestly, I’d planned on dying with him.
And now, I wanted to live with him instead.
His hand continued to stroke my back, and my mind slowed after a few moments. It was strange, being so close to someone while in such complete silence. And not an uncomfortable silence, either. A peaceful one.
Even in my wildest daydreams, I hadn’t imagined I would ever have an experience like the one I was currently having, lying in Espen’s arms. The complete comfort was unreal.
It hadn’t been long, yet I trusted him. I trustedus.
And for the first time in two decades, I actuallywantedto see what my future was going to look like.
I fell asleep in Espen’s arms, my mind slowly opening to the possibility of a lifetime of not just survival, but actual, honest happiness.
When I wokeup the next morning, I felt strange.
Not in a bad way.
Just… different.
As I forced my eyes open slowly, it occurred to me why I felt so odd.
I hadn’t dreamed.
Not of torture, or cruelty, or pain.
Not of my brain’s twisted version of the horrors I’d already survived.
Not even of my chains, or my prison.
I hadn’t had a single dream at all.
