Page 85 of Catching My Dreams

Noah assumed she’d been dreaming about Brett, that she’d been struggling in her sleep because she’d been struggling against him in her nightmare.

So what she said next surprised him.

“I saw…” She sat up and shook her head. “There was a man. He was screaming at his wife. Calling her horrible names.” She drew in a shaky inhale. “He was so angry.”

“You were dreamwalking,” Noah guessed, sitting up as well and letting his shoulder touch hers.

She nodded and pulled her knees to her chest. “I usually find clues so I can report what I see to the police, but this time, I woke up before I found anything.”

“Did he hurt her?”

“No,” she replied in a barely audible voice. “But I could see he wanted to.”

Noah didn’t know how she did it—how she could see the things she did and remain the kind person she was. All that darkness somehow hadn’t infected her. All that darkness hadn’t managed to take away her light.

It should have been impossible, but if the past few months had taught him anything, it was that Ella was the strongest, most resilient person he knew.

His lips parted, but he didn’t know what to say. Nothing he could tell her would make it better. Nothing he could say would help the woman she’d seen.

“I can’t do this,” she said before he could find the right words.

Her voice broke midway through, and Noah shifted and wrapped his arms around her. She let him hold her, her body almost falling into his as though she couldn’t keep herself upright any longer.

“I can’t keep seeing these things,” she said in a broken voice. “I can’t keep looking over my shoulder every minute of every day, wondering if Brett is there. I can’t keep living like this.”

Noah wrapped his arms tighter around her and kissed the top of her head. He felt so helpless. “I know, baby. I know.”

His throat felt tight, constricted. Ella couldn’t breathe under the weight of the cards she’d been dealt, and Noah was suffocating with her. Not because he was feeling what she was feeling but because he couldn’t stand seeing her in pain. He couldn’t begin to understand how strong she had to be to have dealt with all of this for so long without breaking. It was a miracle. She was a miracle.

“I was finally starting to feel safe again,” she admitted, her voice thick with tears.

Fuck. She was breaking his heart. And the worst part was that he had no idea how to help her. How to fix it.

“I’m so sorry.”

“He’ll never stop,” she said, her tone defeated. “He’ll never leave me alone.”

Noah wanted to be able to say that Brett couldn’t hurt her, that she was safe, but he couldn’t lie to her. “I won’t let him hurt you,” he said instead. But though it wasn’t a lie, it rang with falseness.

He wouldn’t always be with Ella. He might not be with her the next time Brett came after her. And if he wasn’t there, he couldn’t do anything to protect her.

“I know,” Ella replied, but he could tell from her tone that she had the same doubts he did.

“I’m in awe of you, you know,” he told her, his fingers running through her loose hair.

“Why?” she asked with a bitter laugh. “I’m a complete mess.”

“That might be how you feel, but it’s not what I see.”

She shifted so that they were facing one another, their cheeks both resting on his pillow and his arm still wrapped around her waist. “What do you see?”

“Someone who’s been living through hell but who can still laugh at my terrible jokes,” he replied. “Someone who still lights up every time Archie greets her at the front door. Someone who still makes an effort to spend time with her gran every weekend. Who forgave me even though she had no reason to.”

“I had a lot of reasons to forgive you,” she refuted with a small smile.

He gave her a skeptical look. “Name one.”

Her smile broadened, turning cheeky. “You’re a pretty good kisser, for one.”

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