Page 12 of In All My Dreams

Turning to leave, I catch a glimpse of something in the corner. Or is it someone? I quickly turn back toward the bed and turn on the night-light sitting on the nightstand. Stars of all colors appear on the ceiling above me, lighting the room up and chasing all the monsters away, the way it did when I was little. Scanning the room, there is nothing but my old dollhouse and various furniture waiting in the shadows. I brush Auden’s dark hair back from her face, giving her one more kiss before I meet Ian in the hallway.

I leave the door cracked slightly so I can hear her from the guest room across the hall. Ian leans against the doorframe, his hands hidden away in his pockets as he looks down at the floor. His head shoots up, and our eyes meet, that electric tether between us making my heart feel as though I’m being shocked by an exposed wire.

“You didn’t have to wait for me. I know how to find the guest room just fine.” My voice cracks at him like a whip that I instantly regret.

I’m still not sure how to talk to him. On one hand, I’m angry at him for our past; on the other, I’ve missed him more than I’ve ever missed anything in this world. He’s like a phantom limb that I didn’t realize was missing until I saw him again.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to sound so snappy. Thank you for helping me with Auden tonight.”

He steps away from the wall, straightening himself before he meets me in the middle of the narrow hall. Auden’s door is cracked open behind me, the night-light casting rays of color over Ian. My father’s room is at the end of the hall, the door closed firmly in place as I gaze over at it. The only other light in the room besides the flashes from the night-light comes from the electric sconces that are lit through the house. When I was a kid, they held candles, but my father must have updated them over the last few years. I don’t miss the way the candles used toflicker throughout the manor at night, casting their eerie glow as my eyes darted from corner to corner, just waiting for something to reach out and take me into the darkness forever.

“Actually,” Ian says, his voice low between us. “You’re not staying in the guest room. My mom made up that room for you.” He points at the door next to Auden’s.

“My mom’s office?” My voice cracks as I wrap my arms tight around me. “You guys want me to sleep in there?”

I take a step away from the door in question. Her office was the one place I was never allowed to go. She would shut herself in there for hours, days, even. Writing, reading, doing whatever it was that she did when she needed a break from being a wife and mother. It was the forbidden fruit of my childhood. Always within reach, just one door away, and yet I wasn’t allowed to go in there. The first time I did...her ghost appeared to scare me away and hasn’t stopped haunting me since. That was the first night I asked Ian to sleep in my room with me, the beginning of our sordid history.

“I can’t go back in there, Ian.” My heart starts pounding rapidly in my chest, the panic seizing my body, a phantom fist squeezing all the air out of my lungs as my eyes close involuntarily. I haven’t had an anxiety attack in years, nearly six years to be exact. The last one I had was when I stared down at that positive test weeks after Ian left.

“Shit, of course you can’t. I’m sorry, I didn’t even think of that.” He steps closer to me.

My eyes fly open when I feel his hand brush against my cheek. Our eyes lock on each other while my rapid breathing hangs heavily between us.

“Shh, deep breath.” Ian’s hands touch my shoulders gently. “Breathe, Georgie, breathe.”

His presence chips slowly away at the terror as I force my lungs to work again. Instead of pushing him away like my brainis urging me to, I wrap my arms around him, crushing myself into his chest. I inhale deeply, letting the familiarness of our embrace ground me.

I don’t know how long we stand there, minutes—hours, perhaps. Wrapped together like the last six years never happened.

The grandfather clock in the dining room beneath us strikes midnight, the chime echoing loudly through the house.

Ian pulls away first. The warmth of him dissipates quickly, and the chill of the manor creeps back into my bones. “Come on, you can take the guest room, and I’ll sleep in there.” He gestures toward my mother’s office. We both eye the forbidden door. I can’t tell if it’s that invisible string between us, or the mutual fear of her office, but neither of us make a move toward our rooms.

“I’ll just go sleep with Auden; you take your room,” I finally say.

“You and her are both going to fit on that twin-size bed?”

“The two of us used to manage just fine if I remember correctly,” I joke back without thinking.

Both of us shift awkwardly. I look up at him, and all sense leaves my body before my brain can catch back up. The meaning in his gaze is fighting against my own as we both remember how things used to be between us. How easy it was to be together, as friends, as two broken humans in love. As each other's safety net in this dark, evil world.

Ian blows out a deep breath before he finally tears his eyes away from the door. “Will you punch me in the face if I suggest a cease-fire?” he asks with a playful tone.

“I didn’t realize we were at war,” I say, cocking my eyebrow up at him. “But what would this cease-fire entail?”

His hand reaches out, hovering in the empty space between us. “Trust me?” he asks softly, hope shining brightly from his eyes.

I don’t think twice before placing my hand in his before he leads us both into the guest room, leaving the door cracked open behind us.

7

Georgia

Now

When I open my eyes the next morning, the first thing I notice is that the door to the guest room is shut. The second thing I notice is that the couch across from the bed is vacant. Ian slept there last night, insisting that I take the bed.

The bed that smelled like him, that sandalwood and citrus mix that’s always clung to his skin. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy wrapping myself in his blankets, wishing that they were his arms around me instead. But every time I woke in the middle of the night, he was there. Sleeping soundly on the couch. His hair wild and messy, splayed across his pillow, his lips parted slightly as he breathed silently.

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