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Shea didn't expect to be awoken at 2 AM to Chris having a nightmare -- it was unlike him to sleep in, let alone have nightmares. But there he was, tossing and turning, mumbling something. She didn't hesitate; she knew what she had to do. Slipping out of bed, she moved to the side of the bed, gently nudging his shoulder until he opened his eyes.
"Are you okay?" she asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper. Chris blinked a few times, still seeming a bit disoriented, before finally focusing on her. His expression immediately shifted from fear to anger.
But the anger wasn't direcred at her. "It's okay. You're safe. You're with me," she assured him, moving her hand to cradle his cheek. The anger seemed to ease a little, and he exhaled shakily. "I'm sorry for waking you up," he mumbled. "I don't usually...do that."
"It's fine. What were you dreaming about?" she asked, leaning in a bit to hear him better. He hesitated, clearly reluctant to share, but eventually gave in. "I...I couldn't find you," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "Or Roman ... our son ... I--I don't know. It was just...terrifying."
Shea nodded, understanding all too well. "I'm here now. We're both here." She kissed his forehead, feeling a mix of protectiveness and love for him. "Go back to sleep. I'm here."
What he really wanted to say, was that he was stuck in a room and it was pitch black. The room went on endlessly -- and he wasn't able to get out. He couldn't hear anyone or anything. And he couldn't help but panic. But he couldn't tell her that. Couldn't make her worry any more than she already did.
It was a nightmare he'd been having since he was 26 years old, when he first realized that his life had changed drastically. When he realized that he was no longer in control. He'd been having it off and on ever since. And it was just as terrifying now as it had been then.
That feeling of total isolation and helplessness washed over him again, but Shea's presence made it bearable. He closed his eyes, taking in her scent, the warmth of her body, and the steady rhythm of her breathing. He let her soothe him back to sleep, knowing that he wasn't alone anymore.
He didn't know why it kept bothering him -- maybe it was the fact that there was a possibility he could fuck up and she would hate him for it. Or maybe it was just the fear of the unknown. Whatever the reason, he couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't quite right.
And he was most definitely going to talk to his therapist about it. It was starting to interfere with his life in more ways than one. He couldn't help but wonder if it was a sign that something needed to change. But for now, he'd focus on the present. On the woman next to him who made him feel safe and loved.
💽
"How's the pregnant misses?" His therapist, Dr. Rhodes, asked as Chris sat down in her office. It was their weekly appointment, but Chris couldn't help but feel that something was off. He hesitated before answering. "You know, all right, I guess." He shrugged. "I've been having these...dreams." He hesitated, not sure how much to share. "Just feeling a bit helpless, you know?"
