Page 56 of Summer Ever After

For a long moment, she just sat there, her heart thundering, her lips tingling where his had briefly touched.

He was right. She was so exhausted she doubted she had the energy for both her nightly ritual of checking the window and door locks and removing her makeup and putting on her face cream.

With a sigh, she pulled herself up, changed into a soft cotton nightshirt, glanced at the windows, and flipped the lock on her door before slipping beneath the covers.

The day caught up with her quickly. Surrounded by the steady quiet of Aaron’s house, she drifted into sleep.

But her peace didn’t last.

Her dreams almost instantly turned dark. She was back in her old house, the house Ian had purchased right after their wedding, the place he still lived in today. The shadows were stretching too long across the floor as she stood in the entryway. Ian’s voice curled out of the darkness from somewhere in the house, his tone low and mocking. “Did you really think you’d escaped me?”

The sound of bars slamming shut over every window, every door, was deafening.

She turned, but no matter where she looked, he was there. In the corners, behind the doors, waiting. His hands closed over her wrists, twisting, burning like they had before. She tried to scream, but her voice stuck, smothered by an invisible hand.

In the nightmare, she wasn’t free. She was still his.

Beth jolted awake with a gasp, the sheets tangled around her legs, her body damp with sweat. For a moment, she couldn’t tell if she’d really escaped the dream.

Ian’s shadow still seemed to linger in the corners.

When she saw movement, she opened her mouth and screamed.

“Hey.” Aaron rushed to her side and held her. “It’s me,” he said several times until his words clicked in her brain.

She held onto him until the last of the fear from the bad dream disappeared.

“I’m sorry,” she said against his bare shoulder, realizing that she’d cried all over his skin. Embarrassment washed over her, and her cheeks heated.

“Don’t be.” He gently stroked her hair. “It was bound to happen after seeing him today.”

She took a deep breath and leaned away from him. “He wins again.” She wiped her face dry with her palms.

“No, no he doesn’t.” He sat next to her and pulled her into his arms again. “Dreams are just our mind’s way of making sense of past trauma.” He squeezed her softly before leaning back to look into her eyes. “You stood up to him yesterday. You won.”

“He’ll never stop.” She closed her eyes. “Never.”

Aaron’s thumb brushed her damp cheek, his voice steady but firm. “Then we don’t stop either. He doesn’t get to live in your head forever, Beth. Not while I’m here.”

Her throat tightened at his certainty. She wanted to believe him so badly, but the echo of Ian’s laughter from her dreams still clung to her bones.

“I don’t feel safe,” she whispered, the admission slipping out before she could swallow it back. “Anywhere. I know I should, but…”

Aaron didn’t hesitate. He tugged back the blanket and climbed onto the mattress beside her. The bed dipped under his weight, solid and grounding. He stretched out next to her, then wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, until her cheek rested against his chest.

“Then I’ll make sure this place is a fortress,” he promised her. “You don’t have to be strong right now,” he murmured into her hair. “Let me do it for both of us.”

The warmth of him pressed in around her, steady as a wall. His heartbeat thudded beneath her ear, slow and calm, lulling her own into a matching rhythm. She clutched at his shirt, afraid if she let go he’d disappear, like everything else good in her life had.

But he didn’t. He just held her.

“Sleep, Beth,” he whispered, lips brushing the crown of her head. “I’ve got you. Nothing’s getting past me tonight.”

Her eyes stung again, but this time it wasn’t from fear. Slowly, her body unwound against his, exhaustion tugging her back under.

The shadows in the corners of the room still lingered, but with Aaron’s arms locked around her, she knew they couldn’t touch her.

For the first time in years, Beth fell asleep not running from the dark but letting herself rest inside the safety of someone else’s light.