Silky blonde hair flows over my arm, where her head is resting on my shoulder. Her heartbeat pulses in her chest against my fingertips, holding her in place. Her breaths have slowed as she drifts into peaceful sleep. I can’t take my eyes off of her, the sweet serenity emanating off her in waves. I wish my eyes could take a screenshot, so I could revisit this moment at any time. I lift my hand from her chest and run my fingers along her hairline, tucking the strands back and away from her face.
The memories continue to flash through my mind as I run my thumb over the etched love confession. But they soon turn painful as I recall the shift that I watched her go through after Brady. I curl my free hand into a fist, just thinking about him. The peaceful memory of her sleeping twists into the endless nightmares she used to have anytime she fell asleep.
I pull her closer into me as the movie comes to an end, and she snuggles into the crook of my neck. I wrap my arms around her and close my eyes. I take a deep breath, and my chest tightens at my love for this girl.
Suddenly, she shakes in my grasp like she’s falling. One quick movement, and my eyes fly open. She goes still once again. But her body starts shaking like she’s been outside in the mountains without proper clothing for ten minutes.
And then her arms fight to break free from the cage my arms have formed around her. I instantly sit back, pushing myself further into the cushions. But her arms don’t stop flailing, and with each second, she’s gaining strength. Her hands are curled into fists, and she rears back and strikes the couch near my head.
“What the hell?” I mumble under my breath.
“Stop. Stop it. Stop.” Her sharp words fall out of her soft, parted lips.
I catch her arm right before she strikes my face. “Becca, wake up. You’re having a bad dream. Becca.”
I grab her other hand and continue to nudge her again and again, but she doesn’t stop.
I sit up and throw myself on top of her, pinning her hands against her sides with the inside of my knees. “Becca!” I shout at her. “It’s okay. Wake up!”
Her eyes fly open, and that brief second appears. The brief second when you wake up, but you’re in limbo; your dream world is fading into black, already slipping from your consciousness, but reality has yet to set in.
Pure terror outlines every delicate feature of her face. Her eyes are wider than I’ve ever seen them; her mouth is open, gasping for air; and her face is pale.
“Callum?” The terror almost immediately fades, and I release the pressure that was holding her hands in place.
I gently grab her face and stroke my thumbs over her cheeks. “It’s okay, love. Everything’s okay. Just a bad dream.”
A look I can’t quite decipher flashes across her face. “Yeah, just a dream.”
“There you are.” My mom walks in behind me. “What in God’s name are you doing in the closet?”
I pull my hand down immediately, not wanting to show her the next thing she needs to “fix” in the house.
I back out of the closet. “Trying to find something in this room thathasn’tchanged. But no luck.”
Her eyes droop. “Watch your tone, Callum. And it’s none of your business what we do with this room. You don’t live here anymore.”
Mumbling under my breath, I say, “Thank God for that.”
“Callum Jones! You come to visit us, and you can’t even have the decency of respect! Next time you visit, don’t bother coming in here. Besides, I turned it into an exercise room.”
I stand a little taller. “What? Why? You don’t work out.”
Her eyes bounce off the ground and back to my eyes. “You are as rude as you have ever been. You obviously never learned anything from us.”
All the things I did learn from them float through my mind. I learned to not give a shit about anything materialistic. I learned to hate social media. I learned that family isn’t always blood.
She crosses her arms, and her eyes dart to the door. “And soon, Gran’s room will be your father’s new office.”
“What do you mean, Gran’s room? Where is she going?” I demand, my heart beginning to race.
She gasps, shocked that I couldn’t possibly know what she’s thinking. “Your grandmother’s hospital bills are adding up, and it costs a lot to keep the in-home nurse. We are moving her to a nursing home, where the state can pay for her. She will be fine,” my mom says and spins, starting to walk out of the room.
I rush forward and grab her shoulder, turning her to me. “What in the hell is going on?”
My mom has never been the fondest of my grandma. She’s my dad’s mom, and Gran has never been her biggest fan since she moved in with us. Well, she doesn’t like my father much either. It’s all because of the way my parents treated me, growing up.
My mom’s face sours. “She sucks all of our money away. Her savings is gone, and so is ours. Your father is doing his best, but we might have to put her in a home soon. We can’t afford it much longer.”
