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I was unaccountably glad that she wasn’t kicking me out, and not just because that tiny bed in the guest room wasn’t particularly comfortable. The truth was, I wanted nothing more than to spend the night with Liz in my arms.
“I’d like that.”
She patted the bed next to her and I took a flying leap, landing next to her with a bounce. She laughed, then reached down to pull the blankets up over us. I held out my arm and she cuddled into my side, head resting on my shoulder.
“That was really good, especially for a first time,” she said happily.
I flushed with pleasure and the tiniest bit of relief that she’d enjoyed what we’d done as much as I had.
“Yeah, it was perfect.” I pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Thanks for today. I had fun. And not just in the bedroom.”
She laughed.
“Just so you know, I’ve got plans to make you watch ‘Love, Actually’ tomorrow,” she warned. “It’s a travesty that you haven’t seen my favorite Christmas movie.”
“It’s a date.”
The last thought I had before I fell asleep was that I never wanted to leave her bed.
Liz
“No!”
I was startled out of a deep sleep by Nathan’s shout of terror.
“Leave her alone!”
He was thrashing from side to side on the bed, his face etched with pain, his breath coming in ragged pants.
“Nathan,” I whispered, tapping his shoulder. “Nathan, wake up. Everything’s okay. You’re safe.”
It was the same thing I’d say to my kids when they would wake up with nightmares. He jackknifed to sitting, instantly awake, eyes darting from side to side.
“Where—-?”
He paused when he saw me.
“Liz?” He sounded confused.
I rubbed his shoulder. “You’re okay Nathan, you just had a nightmare.”
He shivered, and I wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling him close. He angled his body, wrapping me in his arms, his face in my hair. He struggled for a few minutes as he tried to get control of his breath.
“Try inhaling through your nose, hold your breath for a second, then exhale through your mouth.”
Maybe that yoga breathing I’d learned on the video would help him more than it had helped me. I held him until his breath calmed, then he pulled away, an embarrassed look on his face.
“Sorry about that.”
“Don’t be sorry,” I said, rubbing his arm. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“Not really.”
“Okay.”
He laid back down and I cuddled into his side, my hand making soothing circles on his chest. I was almost asleep again before he spoke.
“My dad used to hit my mother. He wasn’t the most pleasant guy to start with, but after the factory in our town closed down, he started drinking. He pretty much drank all day every day. He and his buddies. The drunker he was, the meaner he got.”