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“No,” he muttered, trying to fight it. He fought so hard to wake up.
To escape.
“Don’t fight so hard,” she whispered. “Go with it. You’ll feel better.”
No, he wouldn’t.
She said this in every single dream, and after every one of them, he woke with a hole in his soul.
Nothing would fill it.
NOTHING.
“Please hold me,” she said, her eyes twinkling with that happiness that he now realized had been her faking it. For the whole time they were together, she was never at peace.
NEVER.
“Please let me go,” he whispered. “Please set me free from this dream. I can’t do this.”
“You have to do this, Gamble. You have to get strong to tell me goodbye. Do it for me. After all, you weren’t there to save us.”
That was a dagger to the heart.
It stole his breath as her words shattered what was left of him. The fight was gone, and he could feel the dream wrap around him, and he was helpless against it.
God.
Please let him die.
Please.
He’d served his country, and he’d been a good soldier, doing what was asked of him. There had to be a way out of this.
There had to be.
Death couldn’t be it.
She moved against him, and that feeling was so damn familiar.
He gave up, and let the memory run its course. The sooner it was over, the safer he would be.
“I love you, Gamble,” she whispered, as he gave up.
Gamble held her to him, and his mouth moved gently against hers. He kissed her with such tenderness that filled him. She was the mother of his child.
She was everything.
And she would be his end.
Stop fighting, she whispered into his brain, making him hate his whole existence.
Why?
Even now, he craved her battered and bruised soul, so it could join with his. Together, they would form one.
They could be whole.
Wasn’t that what he’d believed?
