Chapter Ninety One

CHAPTER NINETY ONE

I can’t reconcile the voice I heard with Damion.

How is that possible?

I swing my legs over the side of the bed and take a few deep breaths.

It was a dream.

Just a dream.

And dreams don’t mean anything.

Except for the fact that I’ve been dreaming consistently of my James for the past few weeks, and it doesn’t seem like a dream then.

I get to my feet and go wash my face. Looking into the mirror, I let out a shaking breath, “It couldn’t be Damion. That’s not possible. It’s just my head creating strange narratives.”

But even I can’t keep ignoring my dreams.

There are times when they seem so real and I believe the conversations I am having in them and then there are times when I wonder if I desperately need therapy, assuming I can find a therapist in this secluded area.

I half snort at my own joke.

I walk over to the window and look out at the other cottage, “Maybe I just really need to unwind. Too much in my head.”