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I miss him to the point that I want to go back in there and play out all the fantasies I’ve ever had about him. But knowing my dreams, he’ll probably be gone and the only thing I’ll find is darkness and loneliness.
I edge towards the open doorway, peeking around it to the bed as though I’m spying or something.
“You’re still there,” I murmur. I’m not sure who I’m talking to—him or me.
“Where would I have gone?” Casper has my sketchbook in his hands. He’s flicking through the pages when he comes to a stop. Dark eyes flit up to mine. “You drew him?”
“Yes.” It’s not like Ryan sat for me like he did; it was a distraction for my memory.
“Why?”
“I couldn’t draw you.”
To numb my thoughts of him, actually. I was trying to drown out the painful memories of him by focusing on Ryan—the closest thing to him.
“Don’t do it again,” he orders, placing the pad aside. There’s a fleeting look of sadness on his face that makes my chest tighten with a sharp ache that’s so deep I have no idea how I’m not screaming.
Who knew guilt was a thing in dreams?
I can’t imagine what I looked like throwing mysel
f at Ryan. His friend. Maybe he saw it wherever he is, and he’s here to hurt me like I tried to hurt him.
Shit.
“To be fair, you left me. Didn’t you?”
“I didn’t want to.”
“I suppose we all have to do things we don’t want. I don’t want to be stuck here…without you, but…”
I blink my tears free, taking a deep breath as I stand in front of him. Far enough away that even if I can’t resist the urge to touch him, I won’t reach. I don’t know how this works right now.
“You’re not stuck here, and you’re not without me, Trouble.” Leaning forward, he makes to touch me, but I pull away again.
Would I feel his touch? Or would it feel as transparent and thin as air?
It’s funny because I need air to live just as I need his touch to make me feel alive.
Casper makes my heart beat. It hasn’t thrummed this voraciously since we parted.
I step forward, shakily, taking in his overgrown scruff that’s about the same as his grandfather’s, only dark, like his hair that’s falling into his eyes.
“I miss you,” I tell him, my words choked by the silent sobs I’m trying to hold in.
Before I can pull away again, his hand wraps around the top of my thigh, pulling me to him.
Without warning all the sobs rip from my throat, leaving me incapable of breathing as he nuzzles into the top of my belly. His hands stroke up and down my legs over the nightgown.
“I missed you so fucking much,” he purrs in between the kisses he’s pressing to my bump. Our daughter wriggles to his touch as he breathes, “And you too, sweetheart.”
I feel sick at the thought that this will be over soon. That he’s going to leave me again and I’ll wake up to nothing as I have every single day. Except this time, it will be worse because this is everything I’ve thought about and wished for since the shot that stole him from me sounded.
Still, I can’t bring myself to forcefully wake up like I’ve done during my nightmares. I can’t leave him yet.
Climbing onto his lap, I tuck my face into his warm neck, and I breathe him in greedily until I’ve made myself faint with him pumping through my veins. Hard and fast. His scent burns into my lungs and cuts around my body as he holds me, rocking me while his hands stroke up and down my aching back.
“I love you, Casper Gladstone.” I utter the words before it’s too late and he’s gone again. “I wish I’d told you sooner…before…but I love you. I’m always going to love you, more than I think one person should love another. I think it might be a sin or something like that, but I don’t care.”
