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U nbearable heat suffocates me beneath the bed sheets. My heartbeat is pounding in my ears as my nervous system jumps into overdrive. Eyes snap open as I’m awoken from what could only have been the strangest nightmare ever.

Taking a deep breath, I try to regulate my erratic breathing. I can’t stop my body from overreacting. Sweat clings to my skin. A black pit sits in the center of my stomach. My muscles are sore and achy, like I was fighting for my life in that horrid dream. My throat is raw, as if I’ve been screaming, but Miles is sleeping soundly beside me. It must have just been a dream.

I need to get up. To move this nervous energy around and put it to good use.

But first, I have to untangle myself from both the sheets and Miles’ unconscious body wrapped around me. Once both of my legs are free from Miles’ embrace, I kick everything off as quickly as possible.

It isn’t until I’m standing on the cool hardwood floor that I can exhale a small sigh of relief. The cooling sensation grounds me to reality. My body slowly comes down from whatever fugue state it was in while my conscious mind processes what my unconscious couldn’t.

I pad my way to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee, searching my mind for snippets of what I can remember from the nightmare. The memories are foggy. Every time I think I can narrow in on a detail, it floats away into the abyss of my unconsciousness. Damn human brains and them not remembering what it hallucinates while we sleep.

I remember odd smells. Something old, like leather and tobacco, mixed with the stench of sweat and bodily fluids.

I remember a touch. The ghost of someone’s hand still lingering on my inner thigh, but that could just be Miles as he slept.

I remember feelings. Feeling unsafe. Trapped. Like I was not in control.

But that’s where the remembering stops. Every time I try to push my mind further into that space where dreams and nightmares live, the tether to that place snaps. I’m fully awake now and there’s no accessing that realm, no matter how hard I try.

The last few times this nightmare arose, I remember being tied down, unable to do anything as Miles watched me from the corner. He didn’t speak or move to help me when strange figures came in to attack me. But I could never make out their faces or break free from this cyclical dream.

“Thanks for nothing, brain,” I whisper into the early morning.

Letting out a huff, I gather our favorite cups from the cabinet and begin crafting Miles’ coffee—black coffee with a splash of vanilla sweet cream and a protein bar on the side—followed by my own—two shots of espresso over ice, filled to the top with protein coconut milk. Fats, proteins, and carbs—everything a person needs to start their day. Also, coffee is basically bean flavored water. A hydrating drink and the breakfast of champions, if I do say so myself.

The soft echo of tiny feet on hardwood tap up behind me. Turning around, Princess is seated like the beautiful angel she is, ready and waiting for breakfast. Which she’ll get, as soon as she does her business outside.

“Come on, you little goober. Potty first, then breakfast.”

I walk over to the sliding glass door that leads to the backyard and jar it just enough she can squeeze out. In a bolt, she’s through the door and running through the morning dew. I watch her circle the perimeter a few times, checking to ensure her space is clear from any evil cats or wandering squirrels. Once Princess has deemed the yard suitable for her nobleness, she bypasses the grass and squats directly on the concrete patio nearest to the door.

“You are such a brat!” I whisper-shout at her through the slit in the doorway.

Strong arms wrap around me, the scent of bergamot and leather enveloping me wholly.

“You would know best, now, wouldn’t you?” Miles purrs into my ear. He nips at my earlobe and I melt into his touch. Any anxiety from when I first awoke slowly slips away. My emotional support person is here to help.

I turn in his arms to face him, my nose buried deep into his broad chest as I inhale his scent. It reminds me of when we first started dating. Every night, when he would walk me to my door, we’d embrace just like this. Inhaling each other’s scent and cherishing every second together. Memorizing the way our hearts beat in unison. A slow, melodic lullaby that would satiate my need for him until our next date night. It was during those first initial months that I realized how much I longed for Miles. My little rebellious heart didn’t want adventure. The thing I yearned for was stability and affection.

Taking a few more breaths, I muster the courage to share my nightmare from last night.

“Can I tell you something and you promise not to judge?” I mumble into his shirt.

His body rumbles with laughter as he places a kiss atop my head. “What could possibly be so bad that I would judge you?”

I lean back to look at him. His face is alight with amusement until he notices the seriousness in my own. His smile quickly flat lines into a serious grimace.

Taking a deep breath, I let out all of my shadows that have accumulated over the past few months.

“I’ve been having dreams,” I breathe. “They’re more like nightmares. Realistic nightmares about…” I pause, wondering how much I should truly divulge. “They’re about us and they’re so unnerving.”

Miles rubs my arms, providing a comforting touch. He says nothing, but nods, urging me to continue.

“Recently, I’ve been having a recurring scene where I am tied up in some dark room with some stranger attacking me. And you—you are there—but you just stand in the corner. I beg you to help, and you just…” I take a breath, tears beginning to well behind my eyes. The flood of emotions come back as I recount what little details I can remember.

“You just stand there. You do absolutely nothing while this man defiles me. It makes me feel so helpless and alone. I woke up in a panic this morning, again. Obviously, it wasn’t real, but these dreams. These nightmares…”

I pause.

Taking another deep breath, I try to regain my composure. The knot in my chest constricts what little air I can drag into my lungs. It feels like I’m going to implode from lack of oxygen.

“These nightmares are getting worse and I don’t know how to make them stop.”

Miles taps my forehead, smirking at my ridiculousness. “That mind of yours?—"

I giggle weakly, a single tear escaping, batting his hand away.

“Yeah, what about it?”

Miles’ smile falters, the mask on his face breaking slightly, but he quickly snaps it back into place.

He might not think I notice, but his shifting moods, first at dinner and now this, are becoming much more apparent.

He cups my face in his hands, using a thumb to wipe away the stray droplet.

“I think maybe you need to read less of those crazy books before bed,” he teases. “One of these days, you’re going to think you’re living those horror stories.”

Miles grabs me by the waist, walking me backwards across the kitchen until my bare ass touches the counter’s edge. Scooping beneath my thighs, he lifts me up onto the countertop, causing me to squeak from the sudden movement. He spreads my legs wide, nestling himself between them. Rough hands travel the length of my thigh, warming my skin further. A red flush overtakes my usually pale glow.

Miles tips my chin up, bringing my attention to him. “I would never do anything to hurt you. You know that, right?”

I nod reassuringly. Of course, I know that.

Yet, a pang of uncertainty sits in my chest, deep and heavy, where all my love and devotion usually calls home. A kernel of distrust worms its way into my tender heart.

Miles has always been a man of his word, though.

I need to trust him.

I do trust him.

It was just a bad dream. A nightmare.

And nightmares never come true.