Page 86 of We Can't Be Friends

“She’s not up yet. Chloe usually gets up by seven.” I have a few more hours before she’s awake. But it’s Monday, and she always leaves our place early on Monday mornings. “I don’t think I will.”

“Why not?”

Why am I not asking?

If Chloe wants to tell me, she will.

Maybe I’m slightly scared to know. There’s nothing she could say that would scare me from her. It’ll probably only make me want to be here with her more, even though I’m due to be back in London soon.

Or what if she tells me and I don’t know how to handle it? What if I let her down?

“She’ll tell me if she wants to.”

“She’s living with you.”

“And?” I drop my phone on the desk, tapping speaker phone. “Never mind that I asked you.”

“Callum. If she’s having nightmares that require you to wake her, that’s something you should talk to her about.”

“This is the first time.” At least that I’ve seen. Who knows how long she’s been having dreams like this. The shaking, sweating, and rapid heart rate reminded me of a panic attack.

Can people have those while sleeping?

“It’s probably not.” He pauses. Takes a drink of something. “After my mom died and the injury, I used to have bad dreams. My mind was stuck, replaying those moments. Some nights they were manipulated, replacing Mom or me with others I loved. I saw you, George. . .Emerson,instead.”

“You never told us.” Replaying back the year we lived together after school, all of our holidays, or here in Chicago, I feel guilty that I never knew he was going through this. Was I a bad friend? “We never heard them when we lived together.”

“What did you want me to do? Tell you to your face that I had a dream about you dying. I couldn’t and wouldn’t ever do that. I told my therapist and, eventually, Emerson. Talking about it helped.”

“How often were you having them?”

“It wasn’t every day if that’s what you are worried about with her. When something reminds me of my mom or the day I decided to quit, it triggers a reaction.”

“Was it only while you slept?”

“No.”

“Do you think something triggered her? Something I did?”

“I can’t answer that. I can only speak from my experience and hope it helps you understand.”

“Yeah.” I run a hand through my sandy hair. “I’m sorry that happened. Do they still happen?”

“I appreciate that, Cal. And no, they don’t. Talking helped,” he emphasizes the point. “If you decide to talk to Chloe, you can tell her about me. I’m here for her, too.”

“Yeah, okay.”

His tone shifts. “You care about her?”

“No. . . yes,” I change my answer because Idocare about her. “She’s Emerson’s friend.”

“It’s okay if you do for other reasons.”

“Thank you for your blessing. Didn’t realize I needed it.”

“You’re welcome,” he says with a hint of asshole. “But come on, do you like Chloe?”

“Have you reviewed the offer for the hotel in Monaco?” I swiftly change the subject.

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