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The sound of grass and long-stalked flowers swaying in a soft breeze tickled Heba’s ears to listen.
The air was cool, but not too chilly, and it was imbued with the heady aroma of wildflowers, honeysuckles and a subtle, sunshine scent:
The clean, musky scent of a man who haunted all of her dreams.
Except, this time, in this dream, she could breathe him in and hold him inside. Somehow, the sounds were clearer, the cool air fresher, and the smell of heaven wrapped around her like a physical embrace.
She breathed in and out in long, deep draws, greedy for more of him, desperate for something real.
All this time, across all these dreams, she’d been chasing ghosts. Echoes. Illusions.
But this wasreal.
She knew it with the accelerated beat of her once slumberous heart.
It must be real.
But she couldn’t open her eyes yet, for fear of yet another disappointment. Her dreams were always the same, or at least played out in a similar vein.
She would search tirelessly for her one true love, like Isis searched for Osiris’ body across heaven and earth. And when she reached the end of the world, there would be the shadow of Shai’s form wavering in the distance, taunting her.
She’d run toward him as fast as she could, but her legs felt like stone weights, dragging her down. She would crawl on hands and knees, clawing her way toward his ghost just as he turned toward her.
But always at the last second, when his image was growing in clarity, his features sharpening in the thick haze of her dream, just when she reached out to touch his hand, his hair, any part of him that she could reach—
He’d disappear.
In her dream, she’d open her eyes as if waking. Only to find that she was alone again. Crushed with disappointment, she’d cry herself back to sleep, and the dreams would start all over again.
A dream within a dream. Never ending. Ever repeating.
A limbo between life and death.
Now, her fingers twitched restlessly, aching to reach for him.
He was near; he must be. If his scent was so strong, and she could feel the heat of his body chasing away the chill, he must be within reach.
Hope warred with fear as she raised her arms in this vivid dream.
Still, she kept her eyes closed, not wanting to wake up if doing so would make him disappear again. Perhaps the gods finally took pity on her and let her have him for just a little bit. Just one night. To hold him as if he was truly with her before she lost him again.
When her fingertips touched warm, smooth skin, her breath froze in her chest.
Tentatively, she slowly caressed the familiar planes of Shai’s face with a feather-light touch, as if holding him too tightly would make him vanish like the mist.
Her sensitive fingertips that had not touched for so long grazed his forehead, temples and thick slashing brows. Then coasted over the blade of his nose and cheekbones, down the hollows beneath to a thick, soft beard.
The hair tickled her, making her gasp.
How could a dream feel so real? Could this possibly be real?
Her fingers drifted over his sensuous lips, equally full on both upper and lower, though his beard hid most of his mouth.
But Heba knew.
She’d kissed those lips whenever she had the chance. Not nearly enough during their short time together. If only she hadn’t wasted so many years when she had him. If only she realized how she felt, howhefelt, sooner.
If he was hers again, if they found each other in another life, she’d kiss him ten thousand times a day. And tell him how much she loved him with every look, every touch. Every word and every sigh. She’d never take him for granted again.
