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While it was just a dream, it was based on real events. Her dad wasn’t okay. He was still gone.
That part was still real.
Everything about it was always awful, and last night was, too—but something had been different.
This time, she dreamed she lost Graham.
Usually she loved waking up next to him, rolling into his warm body. If he was already awake he’d tuck her into his chest, just lying with her for several minutes before one of them finally decided to get up (or make a move...these days it was anyone’s guess). If she roused first, she’d snuggle into his side, breathing in his scent, content to feel his skin slowly move against hers as he inhaled and exhaled.
This morning, though, she was relieved to find herself alone as several tears slipped down her cheeks.
Before now, the subject of her dream had never changed. No matter how many times she’d suffered through it, even if tiny details changed—like the color of her shirt or how old she was when she found him—it was always her dad.
It felt like a betrayal to her dad, but the way she’d felt just a few short hours ago in the all-too-real moments of her subconscious, wrenching open that airplane door to see Graham’s pale, lifeless face had been the worst yet.
It could have been because it was unexpected, or because she’d so recently seen Graham injured. Maybe it was because even though she missed her dad immensely, she’d learned to live without him.
Whatever it was, grief and heartbreak had crashed down so hard she’d nearly collapsed into the grass next to the burning plane. Someone had touched her face, speaking to her, but nothing—no one—could ever fix her now. Not after this.
Nothing would ever be okay.
The soothing voice had kept going, though, the gentle touch moving to her hair, her neck, her shoulder. And then she opened her eyes and found herself here, in this bed, in the darkness—Graham’s devastatingly handsome face watching her, brow marred with concern.
He said she’d had a bad dream and when she realized he was here and alive and touching her, she’d nearly blurted out,I love you.
She’d kissed him and made love to him instead, and now, in the light of the morning, she was thankful. Thankful she’d said it without words, because it was safer that way. For both of them.
She’d gotten in way too deep and let him do the same, and what happened last night was proof it would destroy her if she let it continue.
It would hurt like hell, but it was for the best. She had to put an end to whatever they were doing for both their sakes.
And she had to do it today.
Claire loved on Gertrude for a few minutes before getting out of bed. Just as she pulled on the tank top Graham had tossed onto the floor in the middle of the night, her phone dinged from the nightstand.
Mia: How was the weekend getaway?
Claire groaned and sat back down, sinking into the mattress.
Claire: I wouldn’t call it a getaway. Graham was supporting his family and I just helped him get there.
And he gave me a glimpse into his childhood, his life, and his deepest insecurities. I adore his mother and his dog is now my favorite. I realized I’ve fallen in love with him.
Thank God for texting. It was so much easier to lie by omission when she wasn’t looking her best friend in the eye.
Mia: Noah’s been camping in New Mexico with Graham and still has never met Graham’s parents.
Claire: Probably because it was a guys’ camping trip. And I’m sure Graham would have taken him if Noah had asked.
Maybe.
Mia: Doubtful.
Claire: I’m sure Graham found it more fun to bring along someone he’s sleeping with.
Another lie—a semiromantic companion was the last person Graham would have usually brought to his parent’s place. Especially now that she knew his mom’s penchant for matchmaking. And heart-stealing, for that matter. One weekend and Claire loved the woman.
Mia: So we’re just gonna pretend this wasn’t a big deal?
