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Fucking hell. I grab Lauren and push her out of the door, slamming it, and I close my eyes, resting my back against the wood. And even though I know it won’t redeem me, won’t relieve me of my guilt or sins, I apologize.
I apologize over and over again.
One huge inhale.
My chest squeezes, my stomach stings, my head pounds. I open my eyes. I’m sitting up. Rocking back and forth. It takes me a few too many tense moments to realize I’m dreaming. “Jesus.” I scrub my palm down my face, wiping away a sheen of sweat. Why? Why are these dreams haunting me? They aren’t supposed to happen when I’m with Ava. Is it a sign of the fates not letting me move forward? Trapping me in my misery and self-loathing?
I lie down and reach for Ava, to cuddle her, but I find an empty space next to me. I don’t like the cold, hollow sensation that creeps across my skin. “Ava?” I sit back up and scan the bedroom, listening, glancing at the clock. It’s three in the morning. “Ava?” I yell, moving to the edge of the bed and going to the door. “Ava, where are you?” I search every bedroom, my heart slowing more with each one I find empty. “Ava!” I run down the stairs. The terrace. The kitchen. The gym. The study.
No Ava.
Racing back upstairs, I go to the bathroom, yelling her name repeatedly. None of her cosmetics are here. I go to the dressing room. None of her clothes. I inhale, shaking, reversing my steps back into the bedroom, looking up at the clock on the wall. The minute hand hasn’t moved even a fraction. Stuck in time. And I remember, Ava didn’t have a clock put in the penthouse. I swallow, looking at the wall where the photo of the shabby old boats hangs.
There’s no picture. The wall is bare. There is no trace of her in this penthouse.
As if she never existed.
As if I dreamt her up.
I shoot up in bed, grappling at the sheets, gasping for breath. Sweat pours from my body.
Ava.
My strung body relaxes when I find her curled up. My exhale is long. My relief unspeakable. But my body still trembles and sweats. I feel like I’m surviving on borrowed time.
I edge to the side of the bed and let my feet meet the carpet, checking the time. It’s just past four thirty. I look over my shoulder. She looks so peaceful. So cozy. I’d love nothing more than to cuddle up to her, but I don’t want to wake her. I don’t want her to see me like this. It’ll only spike more questions I can’t answer.
I get up and quietly go to the dressing room, pulling on my running kit and trainers, stopping at the door when I leave, watching her for a moment. She’s safe in our bed. Safe in our penthouse. Safe from the world.
But the moment she leaves?
I take the stairs and close the door quietly behind me, getting in the elevator and walking circles until it frees me. I break out in a run immediately. It’s not dark but not light either, the streets quiet, only the odd delivery van around. It’s London at its finest. Quietest. I need my mind to quieten too. The thuds of my strides boom in my ears, and the fresh morning air against my clammy, hot skin, stings. The sky is beginning to glow with the impending sunrise.
I shake my head, my vision distorting, and all I see is me. Me running around Lusso in a crazed state searching for a woman who’s not there. Who was never there. I fight to picture Ava, pulling the visions of her closer to me, storing every detail of her features to memory.
Lauren.
My pace increases. “No, not Lauren,” I pant. “Ava.” I blink, squint, hitting the side of my temple to physically bang away the nightmare memory. But I can’t see Ava. I can only see a blade, and it comes at me fast, sinking into my side.
I choke on thin air and stop abruptly just inside the entrance of Green Park, going to the nearest tree and holding the trunk, breathing through the panic. I’m not asleep. I’m wide awake. My nightmares that eased off when I met Ava are back with a vengeance. Why? And why are they haunting me when I’m awake too? Stronger. More vivid. More real.Why?
I bunch my fist and hit the tree trunk, cursing when pain shoots up my arm. I’m at a loss. How do I navigate this mess and come out the other side with Ava still loving me?
Marry her.
I laugh at the obscenity, which is a good indication of what Ava would think if I were to ask. There’s no way she’d agree. Agreeing to living arrangements was a big enough drama.
I stare at the bark on the tree, my mind circling. And it returns to the same thing over and over.
The natural progression. The right order to do things.
When I get back to Lusso, Ava hasn’t moved. I shower and get ready for my early morning meeting, watching her the whole time, wishing I could leave for work and return and find her still here. Instead, I have to let her go out into a world that’s hell-bent on taking her from me. I button my black shirt and tuck it into my trousers, zipping myself up as I wander to the bed and lower to the edge beside her, spending some precious time stroking her cheek. How very different this morning is from yesterday. I dip and kiss her forehead, her nose, her cheek, feeling her beginning to stir. “I love you,” I whisper, going to her mouth and devoting some time there. “Wake up, my beautiful girl.”
Her eyes blink open and she spreads her body out, stretching. “What time is it?” she asks, her voice grainy.
“You’re fine, it’s only six thirty.” She smells so good, like the best mix of her and me all tangled up in the sheets. “I’ve got a few early supplier meetings at The Manor. I needed to see you before I go.”
Hooking her arms over my shoulders, she hauls me down, hugging me, settling, sighing. “My eyes don’t have to be open foryouto seeme.”
