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River didn’t hesitate to capture her mouth in a deep kiss, his arms lifting her so her legs circled his waist. And she didn’t even care if the bed would be covered in fake blood as she made love to him.
He brought Sadie to the mattress, then hiked up her dress and freed himself from his boxers before hovering over her and caging her in. A lock of dark hair fell over a gray eye as he smiled wickedly at her. “It looks as if the bed is covered in real blood now.”
A piercing pain shot through Sadie, ripping across her flesh. She trembled, peering down at herself, the fake blood turning real as it seeped out from every inch of her body.
“It should’ve been you hanging yourself instead of me,” River cooed, his eyes bloodshot, his lips a pale blue.
He cut off her scream by pressing his cold, dead lips to hers.
Sadie jolted from sleep, her chest heaving as she checked her body for any sign of blood. Sweat trickled down her forehead, and her hair was soaked, matted to her cheeks and neck. She searched around the cluttered room, praying to find River. Nightmare or not, she wanted him there. But she hadn’t seen him alive in three months, not since he’d hung himself. Every passing day she asked herself why he’d done it.
“Are you all right?” Charlie called, bursting into the room, her brown hair pulled back into a ponytail, never a strand out of place.
“I’m fine,” Sadie rushed the words out, leaning against the headboard, her breathing becoming even. “Just another nightmare.” But it had felt so real, and she wished desperately that it was, no matter how different her husband had seemed in her nightmare. Not once had he ever been cruel to her or anyone else.
Charlie sighed and sat on the edge of the bed, resting a warm hand on Sadie’s. Her sister’s nurse scrubs didn’t have a single wrinkle on them, always ironed and neatly pressed for work. “You might want to talk to someone about the nightmares you’ve been having since they’re becoming more frequent.”
Sadie frowned, her lips turning into a tight line. “It’s not as if a counselor can magically make nightmares disappear. I did that already and nothing changed. Besides, I talk to you about them.”
“I mean … some meds.” Charlie’s hazel eyes held hers. “It might be time for that.”
Sadie tugged her hand from her sister’s grasp. “No. It’s only been three months. Ask me again in a year.” Truthfully, she was worried that if she took the meds, they would strip River away from her, pull him from her dreams—the only place where she could still see and meet with him.
Her sister blew out a long breath, then forced a smile as she asked, “White or brown chocolate?”
Sadie relaxed and cocked her head, pretending to mull it over. “That’s quite the conundrum.”
“Happy Birthday, little sister.” Charlie ruffled Sadie’s hair as she always used to do when they were younger.
“Right… That. The big twenty-four now.” Sadie bit the inside of her cheek. Charlie was only a year older than her, but the gap in age between them always seemed like more. Maybe because she’d always taken care of Sadie in a sense, had stood up for her during their school days when everyone would ask why her younger sister didn’t talk much, why she looked sullen all the time when it was just Sadie’s natural expression. “How about both, as usual.”
“I knew that would be your answer.” Charlie smiled. “Just wanted to see if you might choose differently this time, though. Meet me in the kitchen when you’re ready.” She patted Sadie’s shoulder, then stood from the bed, leaving her alone in her room. It wasn’t really her room, but one Sadie was staying in until she found a place, even though she hadn’t started looking yet. After River’s death, she’d sold their house and moved in with her sister—she just hadn’t been ready to live alone.
For the past three months, Sadie had become more of a recluse, only venturing out of her sister’s house when she deemed it necessary. Usually by going to the store for groceries or the post office to pick up her mail. Even then, it was always a quick in and out, never meeting the eyes of anyone.
Sadie stared at her laptop and notebook on the desk in the corner of the room—she hadn’t touched either of them to work on her screenplay, only to write pointless articles for online magazines or short stories for collections that had been due. However, those had been forced, lacking passion, the words coming out robotic.
It wasn’t just three months give or take a day—it was three months to the day that River had hung himself. His limp body wouldn’t vanish from her mind, her nightmares. That was the vision of River she wished she could forget. He’d still been warm to the touch when she’d taken him down from the beam, pressed her mouth to his to try and revive him, get him to breathe at all. What haunted her the most was that if she’d come home sooner, if she hadn’t stayed so long at the cemetery, then maybe she could’ve saved him. Maybe he would’ve made a different choice.
But she hadn’t been there. Not in his final moments.
She had so many unanswered questions. They’d been so happy, or at least, she thought they’d been. He would get into moods with himself when he was working on his art sometimes, as if he was putting himself in the place of the things he was creating. But never had there been an instance where she would even think to worry about him taking his own life. As silly as it was, since they hadn’t been using protection, she wished she would’ve been pregnant. Because then she would’ve had a piece of him still. But she wasn’t.
Tears pricked Sadie’s eyes, and she wiped them away as she pushed up from the bed. Unopened boxes of her and some of River’s things were stacked around the room. All her framed insects and skulls remained in boxes too, smothering inside, just as she seemed to be, even while being out in the open. She used to be more organized like her sister, but she didn’t care anymore.
Sadie didn’t bother to get dressed before heading into the kitchen, where blue and purple balloons were scattered across the tile floor. Polka dot streamers hung across the edge of the granite counter with a colorful Happy Birthday sign in the center. Above the decorations, the steaming mugs of hot chocolates rested beside a pristine circular birthday cake with white frosting.
“I woke up early and baked it for you,” Charlie said, sliding the two hot chocolates toward Sadie.
“It’s perfect.” Sadie sank down on a bar stool, taking the two warm mugs and sipping from them both, relishing their flavors. If Charlie had known the underlying reason why Sadie drank two each day, she wouldn’t have made them. It was a ritual, a most likely unhealthy obsession that Sadie continued to take part in, because each morning with River, she had made the different flavors and they would take turns drinking the opposite one, day after day. But now, it was only her … drinking them both.
“I need to head to work.” Charlie clipped her name badge to the front of her uniform. “I’m going to be late.”
Sadie rolled her eyes. “You’re going to arrive twenty minutes early instead of thirty.”
“Exactly.” Her sister smiled, grabbing her sack lunch and purse. “At least brush your hair today. Please.”
“Fine.” Sadie ran a hand through her tangled strands and watched as her sister closed the front door to the apartment.
