Page 39 of The World Undone

The only thing that even allowed me those brief respites was the feel of her body pressed against mine every night.

She was alive. She was here. She was safe.

By some miracle I still couldn’t grasp, we all were.

And when I could hold her, could feel the gentle dips and curves of her body, the warmth of the blood rushing beneath her skin, it became easier to push back against the narratives clouding my mind—her dead, all of them dead. I’d run my thumb down her neck, feel for myself that she was still alive.

It’s a lie. It’s a lie. It’s a lie.

But she wasn’t here right now, so arguing with myself was more difficult.

I jammed my head back into my pillow. “Stop it. Just stop. You’re being fucking ridiculous.”

My body was stiff with unfiltered anger. It was an infuriating thing—having my brain work against me, spinning lies and twisting truths. Even when I knew it was happening, I couldn’t stop the nightmares from filtering through.

I was here. In this dark, cramped room—a room I’d spent days in. But I was also there, trapped in the cyclic scenes the drude had crafted in my mind. He’d carved new pathways, new memories that felt more true, more visceral than the ones I knew were my lived reality.

My vision adjusted and I could see the dark hazy bedroom, the outline of the dark bed frame, the base propped up and bolstered with a few pieces of mismatched wood—the only lingering evidence of that blissful night with Max.

But layered on top of the bed, this setting, I watched clipped segments of scenes that I knew, logically, weren’t here.

I’d blink, and there was Declan, head sitting face-up several feet from the rest of her body—blink again, and there was Eli, fastened to the far wall with a sword through his ribs, head lolling lifeless on his chest, the blood flow so heavy that his white shirt looked solid red.

When I reached out, I could feel these phantoms, as solid as the blankets that covered my legs, could see his blood stain the tips of my fingers.

“It’s not real,” I repeated again. I closed my eyes, focused on the sounds surrounding me, separate from those gruesome scenes.

Max, was finishing up in the shower, the quiet hum of a song I didn’t recognize in harmony with the gentle drum of water.

Eli—in the kitchen, popping a tab off a fresh beer.

Declan’s gentle snoring in the other room.

I didn’t hear Wade or the fanghole, but I’d heard the front door open and close a few times over the last hour or so.

They were probably out getting fresh air, trying to dispel some of the tension from Max’s bond—something I’d been doing my best to ignore for the last fifty-two minutes and fourteen seconds.

Selfishly, I didn’t want to ignore it. For a few blissful moments tonight, the visuals drifted away. And as relieved as I was for the reprieve, I was disgusted with myself. They came at the expense of witnessing the connection between Max and Declan.

Those pulses of pleasure that sifted through from her to me were strong enough to sever my nightmare reality from this one. But they did nothing to hollow out the guilt that sat low in my gut from the uninvited voyeurism.

They’re alive. They’re here.

I sat up, watching my door, my body craving the soft light that would appear through the crack when she opened it, shadowing her figure as she came in, closed it behind her, and then tiptoed gracefully to my bed.

I needed to feel her, here and solid and more real than those phantoms could ever be.

I spent most of my nights watching her sleep, the curves of her body lifting and contracting with each soft breath, the quiet pressure of her warmth against me.

We never started the nights so close together.

I didn’t allow it.

I hadn’t touched her like that, let myself feel her like that since that moment. I’d allowed myself one night with her in that way—but only one.

Feeling that sort of belonging, that sort of pure ecstasy of being inside of her seemed undeserved after everything I’d done. All of the pain I’d caused. I didn’t want to taint her with the horror that lingered with me, the two worlds I occupied—I wanted her as far from those sights as I could get her.

But I was weak, my resolve only so strong.

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