A sizable walk-in closet housed my meager belongings that weren’t destroyed in the flood…and some unfamiliar clothes hanging from the rack. Fine winter apparel. New snow gear. Cashmere sweaters and designer jeans. I turned an incredulous look to Nolan, who shrugged.
“Cressida likes to shop. When I told her you’d be moving in because of the water damage, she insisted on replenishing your wardrobe.”
I balked at a pair of Gucci denim pants. “She really didn’t need to do that.”
“She wanted to. And some of these are things she never wears anyway. If they’re not your taste, maybe Frankie could make use of them.”
I rubbed a silk blouse between my fingers and wondered how much of this was Cressida’s idea and how much was at the instruction of the stoic man standing behind me. “Tell her…thank you. It’s very thoughtful.”
He studied my face for an infinite moment, then stepped back into the hall. “Bathroom is right next door if you want a shower. I’ll see you in the morning.”
After he left, I sagged against the door.
A shower. Yes, maybe that would clear out the butterflies that had taken up permanent residence in my stomach.
A while later, I peeked into the hallway, arms full of my toiletries and a new set of silken pajamas from Cressida’s horde. The house was quiet and at the end of the hall, a stripe of soft light emanated from under Nolan’s bedroom door. A shadow passed across it.He’s still awake.It was only nine, so I don’t know why I was surprised.
I tiptoed down the hall and slid open the wooden barn door to the bathroom. I needn’t have brought my own soaps—a basket on the counter held a myriad of body washes, shampoos and conditioners, lotions, body sprays in scents of honeysuckle, woodsy vanilla, warm brown sugar, and coconut.Cressida’s shopping bug strikes again.Because there was no way Nolan would have thought to do all this. Right?
After selecting the coconut shampoo and vanilla body wash, I stepped inside the shower and blasted the water as hot as it would go. As steam filled the room, thoughts of Nolan clouded my already muddled head. Cressida had caught us looking at each other. I was sure of it. But instead of being upset, she’d laughed? Almost like she…didn’t mind? But that couldn’t be right. That was insane. Wasn’t it?
I snuffed out the thoughts. Analyzing Nolan’s relationship status was not a good way to quell my anxiety. My pre-bedtime ritual was to shower, moisturize, and meditate. Keeping a strict routine helped me to turn off my fight-or-flight switch that my anxiety was constantly hammering.
Closing my eyes, I breathed in the steam, inhaling and exhaling to a count of five. I concentrated on every speck of water hitting my body, the feel of the tile under my feet, the scent of coconut and vanilla. Then I turned to feeling my heartbeat in various parts of my body. Slow breaths, in and out.
By the time I stepped out of the shower and slipped into my pajamas, I felt more centered. As I crawled into bed, exhaustion from the day’s events washed over me.
The bed was going to swallow me whole.
I’d never slept in anything but a twin bed my entire life. Piling the pillows around me, I made a protective barrier to take up some space and I felt better. Finally, I closed my eyes and envisioned the scene that always sent me to sleep without fail: a red Adirondack chair perched among the palm trees, facing a calm turquoise ocean. After a while, I drifted off to sleep.
The shriek of metal folding around me. Something punches me in the face with the force of a brick wall. Juanito’s distant cries—where is he? What’s happening? Red. Red everywhere. My hands. My clothes.
Everything is red.
“Val.Val,it’s okay. You’re okay.”
I surged awake in a tangle of blankets, chest heaving. A swatch of moonlight filtered through the window and illuminated the pillows littering the floor, the bed in disarray. Sweat slicked my body, my hair sticking to my neck as I swiveled in terror.
Nolan stepped into the moonlight, hair wild and a feral glint in his eyes. He approached me with his hands out, like he wanted to scoop me into his arms, but then he dropped them.
The nightmare. The nightmare I lived in fear of having had hit me again. I should have known a night in a new place would trigger it, no matter how many relaxation rituals I tried. I wrapped my arms around my shins to keep from shaking. “I’m fine,” I said, focusing on the crease in Nolan’s plain white tee shirt. The loose thread on his gray sweatpants. Grounding myself in the present.
“You were thrashing around and shouting in your sleep,” he said. Vicious, unhinged energy rolled off of him as he clenched his hands into fists. “Are you okay?”
The burgundy rose on the pillow. The cream lampshade. The light green sheets.“I’m fine,” I repeated. “I’m sorry I woke you.”
“I wasn’t asleep. I don’t sleep much.” Nolan looked around the room like he wished there was an intruder or something he could physically strangle.
“Really, Nolan. I’m fine.” I managed a weak smile. “Go back to sleep—or try.”
A muscle flickered in his cheek, but he turned to go and a bolt of terror shot through me.The screech of metal. Juanito’s screams. Hot, wet blood.
“Wait,” I said, mouth dry. Nolan paused at the door. “Would you—would you stay?” I asked, feeling like a silly child but unable to face that dark, unfamiliar room alone. “Until I fall asleep again?”
The corded muscles of his forearm flexed as he gripped the doorframe, his eyes roaming over me. The expression on his face…it was the look of a man who would bring down the heavens if I asked for only a single star.
No one had ever looked at me like that before.
