Page 170 of It Should Have Been You

I rush to her side, grabbing her by the arms and giving her a firm shake.

“Fuck. Beth, wake up.”

Stilling, her body goes rigid, and I step away. The last thing she needs is a man standing over her in the dark.

Her eyes shoot open like repelling magnets, droplets of sweat forming on her hairline and streaking down her neck.

The fever broke, but she’s trapped in her head.

Disoriented, she looks around and immediately sits back on the bed, her knees curled up to her chest.

And fuck, if it doesn’t break my heart.

Where’s the woman giving me sass in my truck just hours ago?

Her eyes are lifeless. Light brown pools search the room until they land on me.

I hold out a hand. “It’s okay. It’s me, pretty girl.”

She seems to register the nickname, and a gut-wrenching sob comes from so deep in her chest, I feel it in my bones.

I want to reach out and hold her.

I want to tell her that nothing can touch her here.

But I don’t think that’s what she needs, and her body is so still it looks like it would be physically painful to unwind her.

Instead, I choose to take a tentative step forward, and when she doesn’t react, I take another. Her body curls farther in on itself, but her shoulders relax back into the bed until I’m sitting on the edge.

Her lashes are dark and wet when she looks over at me, scrubbing the flesh of her palms across her cheeks. “I’m sorry. I must have had a nightmare.”

No shit.

I thought people only had nightmares like that in the movies.

“Want to tell me about it?”

Hair stuck to a sweat clad forehead, she shakes her head and whispers, “No.”

We stay silent for what seems like forever, allowing her time to catch her breath. Her legs finally straighten, and her next breath is shaky.

“It’s stupid, isn’t it?” She laughs, but her face soon falls as she glances around the room, her eyes anywhere but on me.

“What?” I ask softly, keeping my distance, but not wanting to.

“After everything, it’s a nightmare that causes me to break down. I’ve been doing really good.”

Her calf brushes against my arm so I move an inch closer. I raise my hand to wipe a tear from her cheek with my thumb. Her head tilts, her eyes closing as she relaxes into my touch. My heart drops before beating bruising rhythms against my chest. She doesn’t pull away when her eyes open and meet mine.

“Logan,” she whimpers, swallowing back her emotions, but a tear slips past her defenses. “I’m so sorry.”

My fingers slide into her hair. “What? You think because you’re crying tonight, you’re weak? You think because a nightmare brings you back in time and you’re struggling with it more today than you were yesterday that you’re somehow weaker? That’s bullshit. You’re here. You’re fighting. You’ve got air in your lungs. You do whatever you have to do just to get through the day. If anything, the days you have to fight a little harder are the days you show just how resilient you are. Your strength is unbreakable today just like it was yesterday. You’re the fucking strongest person I’ve ever met. Don’t let me hear you say that about yourself again. Do you hear me?”

I feel her body tremble against mine.

“Beth,” I urge.

“Yes.” She nods before another sob ruptures from her chest.

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