Page 37 of Love You Madly

The sun glints off the water, casting a soft glow over the lake as I sit on the dock, Barrett beside me, his small hands gripping his fishing pole like it holds the key to the universe. The wind is calm, the world silent except for the occasional chirp of birds. Barrett’s trying so hard not to wiggle, his little body practically vibrating with excitement. He thinks the stillness is what makes fishing serious—his child logic telling him that if we’re quiet, we’re doing it right.

A tug on his line snaps the silence, and Barrett’s eyes light up, his whole face breaking into pure joy. He starts reeling it in, his breath hitching with effort. "Daddy, look! I caught one!" His voice cracks with excitement, and the thrill in his eyes hits me right in the chest.

I help him reel in the small fish—a carp, nothing special, but to Barrett, it’s like he’s just won the biggest prize. "Take a picture and send it to Mama!" His grin is infectious, and for a moment,everything else fades into the background. Just me, Barrett, and this perfect moment.

But as I kneel to unhook the fish and release it back into the water, a shadow shifts in the corner of my vision. I look up, and there she is. Standing at the edge of the clearing. My chest tightens. Her.

Barrett notices her too. "Who’s that, Daddy?" His innocent curiosity laces with a hint of fear, picking up on my sudden tension.

I swallow hard, the hairs on the back of my neck rising. "I don’t know, buddy." My voice comes out tight, barely above a whisper. She’s never appeared when Barrett is with me.

I stand, my heart pounding as we move toward her. Each step feels heavy, a strange weight pulling me closer. Barrett’s small hand tugs at mine, and for a moment, I consider turning back. But the magnetic pull—the same one I’ve felt in every dream—drags me forward.

When we’re close enough to see her face, those familiar green eyes lock onto mine. They’re softer today, almost gentle. But I’ve seen the pain behind them before, the haunted sorrow that always lingers just below the surface. What’s different today?

"Hi," Barrett says, his small voice timid as he stares at her. He doesn’t seem afraid—just… drawn in, the same way I am.

She kneels, her face level with Barrett’s, and smiles. That smile—it tugs at something deep in my chest, something I can’t explain. It’s like coming home to a place I didn’t know I was missing. Barrett steps closer, his curiosity getting the best of him.

"What’s your name?" His question hangs in the air, but she doesn’t answer. Instead, she lifts her hand—slowly, deliberately—and touches his cheek. Barrett giggles, the sound ringing through the clearing, and I can feel the warmth of it wrap around me like a blanket.

I take a step forward, my pulse quickening. "Who are you?" The words spill out, rough and jagged. "What do you want?"

She rises, her eyes meeting mine again. That warmth shifts into something else—something heavier. There’s sadness there, deep and raw. She reaches out, and before I can stop her, her fingers brush my cheek. I freeze. The warmth of her touch sends a shockwave through me, familiar but electric, like I’ve been waiting for it all my life.

But why? Why does this feel like home?

Her touch lingers, and just as I’m about to speak, everything around us begins to blur. Her face, the dock, the lake—it all starts to dissolve, pulling away like sand slipping through my fingers. No. Don’t go.

And then… she’s gone.

I jolt awake, my heart slamming against my ribs. The early morning light filters through the curtains, the familiar surroundings of my apartment creeping back into focus. But the loss, the emptiness—that stays. I run my hands over my face, trying to shake the feeling that something—someone—is missing. Waking up from these dreams leaves me raw, vulnerable in a way that’s starting to scare me.

Why her? Why now? Why is Barrett in these dreams? It’s never been like this before. The thought of her with him—it unnerves me, the connection too deep, too real.

I get up, pacing the small apartment as the weight of the dream presses down on me. After a while, I make a cup of coffee, the strong, bitter taste doing nothing to ease the tightness in my chest. I need a distraction. Anything to pull me out of this.

Callie. I grab my phone and thumb through my contacts, pausing when I see her name. Maybe I should text her. Butsending a “good morning, beautiful” text after just one conversation feels like the exact thing she warned me about—being too much, too soon. Just as I’m about to set the phone down, it begins buzzing with a call from Luke.

“Morning, sunshine,” Luke’s voice bursts through, too cheerful for how I feel. “How’s it going?”

“Morning,” I grunt, trying to shake the dream from my head. “What’s up?”

“I’m calling to gloat. Heather texted me this morning, man. We’re going out tonight. Thanks for the hookup.” His voice drips with amusement, and I can picture the smirk on his face.

I force a laugh. “Glad I could help. Wasn’t really feeling it anyway.”

“Well, I was, so thanks for passing her along.” There’s a pause. “What’s got you all quiet? Rough night?”

I hesitate, my fingers drumming against the counter. “Yeah. Weird dream again.”

“Her?”

“Yeah. It was… different this time. Barrett was with me.”

Luke’s silence on the other end is heavy, like he’s trying to figure out how to respond. “That’s new. Maybe it means something?”

I shrug, even though he can’t see it. “Or maybe it’s just a dream, man. You know I don’t buy into that cosmic soulmate crap.”

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