Page 58 of Before Eve
The lashes come.
And come.
And come…
“Eve, you’ve got to wake up.”
My arms flail as I let out a guttural cry, floating between the nightmare and the present time.
“Wake up.”
I kick my legs, trying to get away, trying to wake up. “Nooo,” I moan.
Someone catches my shoulders and pins them down, and I ram my knee into the person’s side, trying to get away. Numbly, I register a groan of pain.
“WAKE! UP!”
With a gasp, I zoom straight out of the nightmare and stare unblinking, panting for a breath I can’t quite catch.
“It’s okay,” West says. “You’re all right. You’re safe now.”
I inhale another gasp, throwing my arms around his neck. “West,” I breathe.
“Shh,” he whispers, holding me tight. “You’re okay now. It was a horrible nightmare. That’s all.”
Time ticks by as I cling to him, my heartbeat steadily regaining normality, my breathing slowing to normal, and I reconnect with my surroundings. I’m in Vianca’s room. We celebrated her birthday. We had nachos. West and I went to the beach.
“Everything okay now?” Gramma quietly asks from the doorway.
I pull out of West’s arms. Dressed in their pajamas, his entire family hovers, watching. Maria’s who I focus on, though, with her understanding expression, yes, but also sadness. I told her that the bad dreams would go away. She thinks I lied to her. Maybe I did.
“All good.” West waves them off.
“I-I’m sorry,” I mumble, humiliated and embarrassed I woke the whole house.
Gramma smiles. “It’s okay, sweetheart.”
West’s family all shuffles back to their rooms, leaving us in the bedroom illuminated only by Vianca’s nightlight. West soothes my sweaty hair as I take in his features, memorizing the details, reassuring myself I’m here in Florida with him and not anywhere else.
Gently, he touches the pads of his fingers to my black circles. “It’s no wonder you have so many sleepless nights.”
Silent tears roll free as I take in his dark brows, the strong line of his cheekbones, and the curve of his lips.
“Hey.” He strokes the wetness away. “What’s this?”
I wipe my hand across my cheek, inhaling a trembling breath as more tears fall. “Sorry,” I mumble.
“I’d say you deserve to cry after a dream like that.” West kisses my wet lips and gathers me into his arms. “Cry as much as you need to.”
His soft words make the tears stream so fast I don’t bother wiping them. The whole time West strokes my back, whispering soothing things, but now that my weeping is here, I can’t make it stop.
I cry.
And I cry.
What feels like years of sobs come from me, and I give freely into them and the moment. I don’t hold anything back. It’s a long time coming.
Gradually, the pain lessens, and I pull back. “Thank you,” I whisper, wiping my fingers across my nose.
