Page 107 of In Somnis

The instant our palms meet, heat rushes up my arm, and my chest tightens so hard I gasp, breath stuttering as something locks deep inside me, clicking into place with a certainty that doesn’t feel like mine.

The flowers ripple violently, petals bending inward as if they’re bowing. The sky fractures, warping like glass under pressure, stars dragging long, white scars behind them.

“Ridge.” I grip his hand harder, but I feel the dream slipping, and my fear unravels faster than I can stop it.

“Sleep tight, sweetheart,” he murmurs, voice amused, like he’s already counting the nights I’ll spend regretting this.

The world tilts violently, and I’m still clutching his hand when the Milky Way collapses inward⁠—

I wake with a gasp, heart hammering, the echo of crystalized ginger and Ridge’s warmth still clinging to my skin.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Lennon

“Done!”

I lean back in the armchair, admiring the soft ballet pink now coating Tessa’s nails. The color looks perfect against her skin and is exactly what she would have chosen herself. I cap the nail polish bottle with a satisfying click and set it on the small table between us.

“What do you think?” I ask, even though I know she won’t answer. “I think it’s very you. Understated but pretty.”

Tessa stares out the window at the leaves swirling in the afternoon breeze, her hands resting limply on the arms of her reading chair. The fresh polish gleams on her nails, which looked so sad the last time I visited. Neglected. Wrong in a way that tugged at my heart harder than it should have. Tessa never let them get like that—French tips or solid colors, nothing wild like mine, but always pristine. Her nails mattered to her.

I know they still matter.

People think little rituals stop mattering when bigger tragedies move in. They don’t. Sometimes they matter more because they’re the last place a person still looks like themselves.

I’ve been here for hours now, way longer than I meant to stay, but last night was something. So when I woke late in the morning, heavy and disoriented, I needed my best friend.

If I couldn’t reach her in dreams, I’d be near her the only way left.

Even silent company counts when you’re lonely enough.

I grabbed my nail kit and stopped for coffee and croissants, one for Nora, one for me, and one for Tessa, fully aware that only two of us would be eating, then drove over, still half wrapped in exhaustion.

I shift in my chair, tucking one leg under me as I study her profile. “So, where were we? Right. Paul hitting me with his car, which, yeah, still insane, but get this.” I lean forward conspiratorially, even though she’s not looking at me. “He showed up at the inn last night with the tumbler I bought and had with me when he hit me. One of those insulated ones? Were they already a thing in our twenties? Anyway. He washed it and filled it with ice water, Tess. Ice water. Who does that?”

The wind picks up outside, rattling the window, but Tessa doesn’t react.

“I know what you’re thinking,” I continue, reaching for my nail polish bag and rummaging through it. “You’re thinking he’s only doing this because he feels guilty. That’s what I keep telling myself too. But Nevan thinks Paul’s actually interested. Which is ridiculous, obviously.”

I find my favorite yellow polish and pull it out, frowning when I see how low it is.

“Damn. Almost empty.”

Story of my life lately. Everything good is running low at once.

I dig back into the bag and pull out a peach shade instead. “But yeah, the dinner shift last night was fun. Nevan’s great to work with. He’s… I don’t know, he’s kind and funny when he’s not tripping over his own feet. He’s cute.”

I ignore the heat that fills my cheeks when I think about how I kissed the dream version of him last night and twist open the peach polish and carefully start painting my left hand.

“Oh, and he said he wants to be friends, which is… nice. Really nice, actually. I mean, obviously, nobody could ever replace you, Tess. You know that. But it’s good to have a friend again. And if you count his little brother, Jasper, that’s two, which is more than I’ve had in a long time. At least real friends. I think they’re not the kind to talk bad behind my back like Sienna and Aubrey.” I finish my left hand and blow on the nails. “But yeah, I’d rather have your advice. You were always better at telling me when I was being an idiot.

“I’d rather have a lot of things.” Your voice, your coffee orders. How you used to call me Dolly when you thought I was being particularly idiotic, which was often, and which I always pretended to hate.

“I used to call you every day, did you know that? After you… went under. I kept picking up my phone to call you. And I left you voice messages. Nora said she played them for you. I don’t know how many of them you heard, but it’s not like they were important. Just little things. Every day things.”

Damn. I miss talking with her.