Page 37 of Dart to Me

“When I was in that hospital bed,” he says quietly, “this is what I thought about. Being somewhere quiet with you. Just... existing for a while.”

I lean my head against his shoulder and close my eyes. For the first time in weeks, I don’t see Rick’s face when my eyelids close. I don’t hear the echo of threats or feel phantom hands around my throat.

Instead, I hear waves crashing against the shore, Julian’s steady breathing, and nothing else.

We fall into an easy rhythm over the next few days. Mornings are for long walks along the deserted beach, afternoons for reading on the porch or napping in the hammock strung between two pine trees. Julian cooks surprisingly good meals in the tiny kitchen, and I find myself eating properly for the first time since the attack.

“You are a good cook,” I say on our third night, savoring the last bite of grilled fish. “Where’d you learn?”

He shrugs, a hint of color rising to his cheeks. “My grandmother. She would have liked you.”

On our fifth day, rain keeps us indoors. The patter on the roof is soothing as we curl up on the couch, a game of cards abandoned on the coffee table. Julian traces circles on my palm, and I find myself telling him things I’ve never told anyone—about my childhood, my fears, my dreams before Rick entered my life and shattered everything.

“I used to think I was invincible,” I whisper. “Now I jump at shadows.”

Julian’s fingers interlace with mine. “The shadows can’t hurt you. And you’re stronger than you think.”

“How can you be so sure?”

His eyes meet mine, steady and certain. “Because I’ve seen you fight. Not just physically—though God knows you’ve doneenough of that—but here.” He touches my temple gently. “Where it matters most.”

That night, when the nightmare comes, it’s different. Rick is there, but distant, fading. And this time, I’m not running. I’m standing my ground, Julian beside me, as Rick shrinks smaller and smaller until he’s nothing but a speck on the horizon.

I wake with tears on my face, but they’re not tears of fear.

“You okay?” Julian murmurs, instantly alert.

“Yeah,” I say, surprised to find it’s true. “I think I finally am.”