“God! Those are nasty, Ava.” He shakes his head in disbelief. “What have I done?”

“Sit down, Jack.” I guide him to the couch so I can watch Quinton as we talk.

“Ava…” His face transforms into a mask of sheer horror.

My robe has slipped off my shoulder and arm, revealing faint shades of bruises from his grip.

“Ava, did I do that too?”

“Jack…”

“Did I do that?” His face cringes even more, shrinking like the peel of an orange.

“It’s nothing.”

“Oh, God. I’m so sorry.” He trembles, his hand covering his mouth.

“It wasn’t your fault. Maybe I spooked you when I tried to wake you up.”

“Don’t shift the blame to yourself, please,” he emphasizes, full of anguish. He rises from his seat and paces restlessly across the room, stopping only to watch Quinton. The baby gazes back at him with a radiant smile, tiny arms outstretched. Overwhelmed by the sight, Jack can’t resist the urge. He kneels, engaging in playful interaction with him.

As Quinton becomes absorbed in his rubber donut, Jack’s attention returns to me. Worry paints his face as he asks, “What are we gonna do? I scared Quinton too, didn’t I?”

Seeking to reassure the guilt-ridden man, I reply, “He was just startled.”

However, Jack resumes his agitated pacing, this time leaving the room entirely. Elmo follows him.

I stand in the hallway, caught between the living room and the distant recesses of our home. “Jack,” I call out, halting him in his tracks. “Please come back and sit down.”

He retraces his steps, sinking into the seat with a heavy sigh. His face cradled in his hands, he confesses, “I do want us to work, Ava, but you and Quinton can’t bear the brunt of my mess. Now you see how broken I am.”

“Look, I’m not going to sugarcoat it. You did scare me back there. You were not you, and yes, you scratched me and clutched my arm. But it doesn’t mean I’m going to give up on you or on us.”

“I hurt you, Ava. That’s unforgivable.”

“You didn’t mean to.”

“It doesn’t matter. I. Hurt. You.” He looks me in the eye. But, as if he couldn’t bear my stare, he slouches back with a twisted expression. Clearly, in his mind, he’s committed an irreversible mistake.

I scoot closer to him, intertwining my fingers with his. “Now that I know about your nightmares, we can work it out together.”

“How? Don’t tell me to seek professional help. Been there, done that.”

“But you didn’t have me then.”

He looks off into the distance, seemingly contemplating if my presence would’ve improved the effects of the therapy. Then, he hums as if indicating a negative response. “Maybe I should sleep in a different room.”

“Jack, no! That’s not a solution. You’re my partner. I want you beside me.”

He tilts his head to touch his forehead to mine. “Just when you thought you were safe from Willem, I ended up causing you harm.”

I withdraw, facing him straight on. “Don’t you compare yourself to that monster!”

“Am I not a monster?”

I embrace him, pouring my heart and soul into every touch, hoping to sway him. “No! You’re the man I love. And you love me. You’re not him!”

“It’s not going to get better. I’ve had this nightmare since I knew what a nightmare was. I was so drugged, and everything was a blur. I couldn’t distinguish between reality, visions, dreams, and nightmares. I’ve had other dark dreams, but they’d come and go. This one has persisted.