Chapter 5

“I don’t want you lonely,” he said,

licking his lips to wet them. I remember the feel of his hands in

mine, rubbing my fingers, warming them. “What if I don’t come

back?”

I shook my head. “Don’t say that,” I

whispered. “Why wouldn’t you? Don’t talk like that, Dylan—”

“I’m just saying things happen, baby.”

He kissed my fingertips, his lips soft and damp where his tongue

had licked between them.

I asked if there was someone else, but he

said no, only me. “Then why—”

“I want you happy,” he told me. Tears

faceted his eyes like jewels, and they sparkled like sapphires in

the low lighting of my room. In the dream he’s hurting, he doesn’t

want to do this, and I try to tell him that he doesn’t have to, we

don’t need to break up when things are going so well—but even after

all this time, I still can’t find the words to say that. I still

turn my face from his so he won’t see my own tears. His lips still

brush along my cheek in a thwarted kiss.