Chapter 65: Not Alone
- RAYA -
"You don’t have to worry, Raya," Dex says like he can feel the fear that has started to rise. Or maybe he realizes that I’m holding my breath. "I’m not going to think you’re crazy."
His head turns, lips almost brushing against my hair while his arm stays wrapped protectively around me.
My breath comes out jagged when I finally release it, and I gently pull away from him. If we’re finally going to talk about this, then I can’t have him holding me. There needs to be a decent amount of space between us... even if that means being confronted with his breathtakingly handsome face and the graceful way his muscular body drapes over the couch right in front of me.
I clasp my hands together and stare at them instead, trying to figure out how I’m going to say this. I told him I would be honest, and I can’t back out of it. With everything he has done, it would be awful to lie to him at this point—even if it’s about this.
Dex waits silently while I wet my lips and take a deep breath. How much do I tell him? All of it? Going all the way back to the beginning? He says he won’t think I’m crazy, but he might change his mind. I’ll just start by answering exactly what it is he’s asking... if any of the rooms in the two houses seem familiar.
"The uh..." I start to say and chuckle nervously, shaking my head at how insane this is going to sound. "The kitchen in the guest house is very familiar. And the bedroom in the guest house. And your bathroom."
My eyes lift to find him releasing a deep breath of his own, and he runs a hand over his face and his beard, breaking eye contact to stare at another part of the room for answers.
"But I think you already knew that," I say, my voice trembling and trailing off into a whisper.
He nods. "I had those dreams, too." His voice has turned into a low gravel, and it tugs on something deeply sacred and hidden—like it’s calling to me. I wonder if he feels it, too.
"Maybe they were different," I suggest. "Maybe..."
"There was something in the kitchen you couldn’t reach," he interrupts. "And you asked me for help. Is that the one you had?"
My expression must be enough of an answer, because he nods and rakes a hand down his face again like he’s having a hard time believing it even though this is what he suspected.
"What about... the past few nights?" I ask reluctantly.
"The past few nights?" One corner of his mouth pulls up into a crooked smile. He scoots closer to where I’m sitting cross-legged facing him and folds one leg up so that he’s facing me, too. The honey brown of his eyes studies me, sweeping over my face... the emotions there deepening again. "The past few dreams were just spent... looking at you."
I suck in a small breath, and tears start to well. Those are the dreams I have had, too.
"Which is a good thing," he goes on, "because I was worried. With you being so close, if another dream like before happened..." He reaches up and touches my cheek with the back of his hand before letting it drop, his brow furrowing. "You look afraid again."
"Not of you," I whisper with one soft chuckle and then reach up to wipe the few tears that have decided to spill over. "I just don’t understand why this is happening, and now..." I bite my lip and fidget with my hands. "I know I’m not alone. It’s a relief."
"How long have you been having these dreams?" He asks softly.
My face crumples for some reason at that, and more tears slide down my face. "Almost a month." I dry my cheeks again, angry that I can’t keep them from coming. But this feels like such a huge weight that’s being released.
He sighs and pulls me gently into his arms again, and I start crying... all the way now, not just a few tears. My shoulders shake with silent sobs, and I whimper pathetically, trying to stop them from coming. I really don’t want to be crying in his arms like this.
"I’m sorry," Dex says, rubbing my back and caressing my hair... comforting me like a child.
I want to tell him that he shouldn’t be sorry—it’s not his fault!—but I burrow further into his warmth and let him hold me instead. It’s like a key fitting into a lock—like our souls are clicking into place, and I don’t even question it. Because whatever this is, it’s powerful enough to have brought us together.
"It’s like you knew I was coming home before anyone else did. Even me," he chuckles, thankfully able to find amusement in this. He kisses the top of my head again like he did in the loft and continues caressing my hair, sweeping it back from my face while I’m tucked against his chest. "You’re not alone. The important thing is that we both know now. And we’ll figure this out... whatever this is."
- DEX -
I didn’t expect to have this conversation tonight. I was planning on asking Raya to have dinner with me on Friday. In fact, I was staring at my phone trying to get up the nerve to call her when her text came in asking if I was in the guest house.
The bolt of fear that rocked me at that text was unlike anything I remember experiencing before. If someone was in the guest house... they had to be coming knowing she was there. No one ever uses the guest house.
My thoughts immediately went to three people: Raya’s creepy neighbor, Grace, and Lawson. But only one of those people has a key.
Thinking back now to when I was running through the garden—there could have been someone exiting the other side of the house. I didn’t think to look, because I got there so quickly. If there was an intruder, I expected that they would still be inside.
Thankfully the house was empty, but I didn’t see Raya either. When I finally found her huddled on the bed in the loft and saw the terror in her eyes, the relief was instant. But something else crept into my chest that I have done so well guarding against up until now: the staggering fear of loss.
I’m afraid to lose Raya. I’m afraid to lose her and I barely know her.
New locks and alarms—those things will help. But they’re not enough. Now that I have experienced the very real fear that I might lose her... that feeling of intense vulnerability is back. It’s like my very own chasm opening again, and I’m poised on the edge knowing full well the pain that will engulf me should something happen to her. That must be why I felt so instinctively the need to protect her from the very beginning.
It doesn’t help that Raya looks so vulnerable, too. Now she’s crying, and I can’t shake the feeling that somehow all of this is my fault. Maybe these dreams are the universe’s way of breaking open this barrier that I’ve built around myself. I can’t hide from them like I can hide from people in real life.
If anything was going to get through to me and make me start feeling something deeply again, it was going to have to be extreme. Dreams like this will sure do it. But I can’t believe Raya has been having them for almost a month. That’s a long time.
"How have you held it together this long?" I ask, loving that she’s curled into me—loving that she can find comfort in my arms and it’s not just me who feels so comfortable around her. She fits perfectly—like the piece I’ve been missing all along without realizing it.
"I don’t know. I definitely thought I was going crazy," she whispers, wiping her face again. "And then you showed up at the office, and I was sure of it."
"You’re not going crazy. I recognized you right away, too. Even your name..." I trail off, recalling it. When we shook hands, it was like a jolt straight to my heart. "I wonder if I wasn’t also having dreams and just didn’t remember them yet. But I sure do now."
We both share a small laugh, and she pulls out of my embrace, meeting my eyes shyly. I know her face so well now after these past few nights. Every curve, every fleck of color in her eyes, the shape of her lips... I can’t help but stare in awe now at the real version. Every detail is the same, but now she’s just more vivid, more alive.
"I’m glad you told me." I reach up to touch her chin—just one little part of her to reassure myself that this isn’t another dream, as she said earlier. "Whatever this is all about, we’re in it together now."
