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“Was everything okay?” I have to ask.
“Yes.” Dee catches my meaning. “You were out cold for the night.”
My entire body eases with that knowledge.
“I don’t want you to be afraid of sharing a bed with me because of your nightmares.”
“Hard not to be.”
“Have you always had them?”
I hesitate. This isn’t what I want to talk about. But I promised not to shut down. I promised to try.
“When I was little, yeah.” I press up onto one elbow. “But they lessened over time. The violence was just routine. I’d come to expect it. I couldn’t control what he did to me physically, but at least I could escape from him through my stories.”
“That makes me so sad.” She gives me a hug and pulls back. “Did you ever talk to anyone about your nightmares?”
“Is that your subtle way of suggesting I need counseling?”
“No.” Her fingers trace the curve of my bicep. “Counseling isn’t the solution for everyone or everything. But I think it can do some good. It’s helped me. In fact, I’m seeing Dr. Roland this afternoon.”
“Is everything okay?”
“Yes. Better than okay.” She smiles. “I missed our appointment last week and I rebooked for today. That’s all.”
“I’m glad it helps you, Dee. I’m just not sure therapy is for me.”
“I don’t want us to sleep apart.”
“I don’t want that either. Until lately, I hadn’t had a nightmare since I was a kid.”
Dee watches me with keen perception. “When did they start up again?”
“The day I showed up at your office,” I confess; I don’t want to lie to her.
“I’m sorry.”
“Hey.” I run my knuckles down her cheek. “You’re not the cause. I know that’s what you’re thinking, but you’re not.”
“They came back when you saw me.”
“They came back, because as you pointed out, I hadn’t dealt with my guilt or with Malcolm. Now that I’m dealing with both, they may go away for good. But if not, I promise to consider counseling as an option. Okay?”
“Okay.” But I can see in her eyes that she’s still thinking she had some part in their return.
“I want you to know something,” I say, twining one of her curls around my finger. “The dream I had when I saw you after all those years wasn’t like the others.”
“How was it different?”
“It was more like a flashback to the day Malcolm caught me writing my entrance essay to NYU. He was enraged. I’d rarely seen him like that. He was usually controlled. But this time he lost it. Hit me in the face when he’d never done that before. It happened so fast.” The memory roars in my head. “I didn’t see it coming. That first hit knocked me to the floor. Then a blur of kicks to my ribs. I must have been losing consciousness because I remember thinking that I might actually die.
“That’s when I saw visions of my family—Victor, little Gabi, everyone. I heard my mom telling me it was too soon, but it was you…your voice, your face, your smile that was the light that drew me back.”
I wipe her fallen tears with the pad of my thumb. “You were the beauty amongst all the ugliness. You gave me that. You still do.”
“Mick,” she breathes.
“I love you, Deeana Rae. Then…” I let my lips journey across the angle of her jaw. “Now…” They trace her cheekbone. “Forever.”
