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Shehad no doubt it wasGabriel, and he was in pain.Shehad never heard anything like it before: primal and bleak.Asshe rushed past the kitchen island, she clocked the bottle of whiskey and the single empty glass sitting next to it.
Inhis bedroom, she found him thrashing in his sheets, his hands clenched in the duvet, his brow furrowed, and his eyes squeezed shut.Thebathroom light was on, casting a tungsten glow across the bottom of his bed.Hisprosthesis lay abandoned on the floor, as though he’d taken it off and tossed it down in disgust.
Jessbounced from foot to foot, unsure what to do.She’dread somewhere that she shouldn’t try to wake him.Orwas that sleep walking?Sheshook her hands in uncertainty.Maybeif she just held him and talked to him calmly, that might help.Heseemed tense, but not violent.
‘No!Nother,’ he shouted.
Curlingher fingers into fists and coming to a decision, she lifted the duvet and slid into the bed next to him.Shearrangedthe pillow so her head would be slightly above his.Delicately, she manoeuvred her body next to his, her hand gliding across his bare, sweaty chest.Shewiggled her other arm under his head, and he whimpered in his sleep.Shesmelled the sharp tang of whiskey and fear on him.
‘Shhh,’ she whispered close to his ear. ‘It’sokay.You’reokay.’
Gabrielcried out again, an expression of utter agony on his face.
Jesspulled him to her and stroked his head, repeating the same words over and over again.
Hisbody shook.Sheabsorbed it.
Shekept reassuring him and holding him gently, sailing on pure instinct.She’dnever been in this situation before.Sure, she had soothed friends over broken hearts, lost competitions, jobs they didn’t get…but this was something else entirely.Itwas brutal.Andreal.Andall-encompassing.Amental prison.Allshe had to help him was her body and her words, so that’s what she used.
Timeticked by and she had no idea how long passed before he began to settle.Itfelt like hours, but was probably closer to thirty minutes.Finally, his breathing evened out, and he stopped squirming, his chest rising and falling in a normal rhythm.
Jesswatched over him.AfterwhatElodiehad told her,Jesscould only imagine what happened to him inAfghanistan, what sort of nightmare he relived in his sleep.Fatima, he had called out.Elodiehad mentioned her, too.Jess’seyes immediately turned to the picture on the mantelpiece.HadGabrielbeen in love with her?Howdid she die?Didhe have to watch it happen?
Shesqueezed her eyes closed, trying not to let her imagination run away with the possibilities.Itput her break-up withKrishinto acute perspective.Sure, it had been upsetting and she missed him.Butnobody had died.They’dboth survive and go on living their lives.
Oh,Gabriel.Whathappened to you?Shekissed his temple.
Hugginghim to her,Jesscontinued her vigil over him, forcing herself to stay awake even when her own eyelids wanted to close.
Gabrielawoke with a start.
Wherewas he and why did he smell strawberries?
He’dhad the dream again.Guiltwashed through him, as it always did when he realised thatFatimawould never feel safe again and that he had failed to protect her.
Ithad been a while since he’d suffered through that particular nightmare in such excruciating detail—from the intense, wet hay stench of thenaswarto the tickle of the bugs’ tiny feet crawling over his legs to the searing pain when the bullet obliterated his right foot.
Butthere had been something different about this dream, too.Anunexpected presence.
Helooked down.Thefirst thing he saw was the manicured hand resting on his chest, the fingers tangled in the crinkly black and grey hairs.Asmooth leg intertwined with his own.Thesound of someone else’s soft breathing tickled his ear.Turninghis head, he was surprised to seeJess, her beautiful face relaxed, her lips gently parted, her curly mane spread across the pillow behind her.
Nowhe remembered.Shehad been in his dream, too, towards the end.Whenhe was screaming afterFatimadied and the youngTalibansoldier shot him, unexpectedlyJesshad appeared.Afghanistanhad faded to black.Inthe dark void, she took him in her arms and told him everything would be allright.Hercalming words sank into him, rescuing him from the precipice.Now, he understood she had been there in real life.
Jesscame for him.
Afeeling he hadn’t allowed himself to have in a long time burned in his heart.
Jess’seyelids fluttered open.
Gabrielfaced her, his head propped up on his hand, his brown eyes trained on her face. ‘Bonjour,’ he said, his face unreadable.
‘Um, morning,’ she said, and stretched, using it as an excuse to move away from him and give him some space.Shehad, after all, broken into his house and crawled into bed with him last night.
Asthough wanting to stop her from leaving, he reached out his large, warm hand and placed it on her waist, under her silky camisole.Herubbed his thumb back and forth.Goosepimples erupted all over her skin, just like they had the first time he touched her there. ‘Didyou know that, inFrance, we still use the guillotine for trespassers?’
‘Isthat so?’Shefelt a blush creep up her neck.
‘GoodthingI’mnot planning to press charges.’
