Page 6 of The Time It Takes

Behind me, grass whipped, and the wind was picking up. I almost couldn't hear the person shouting at me to hurry up, but I knew who it was. I didn't look at her. I couldn't. I felt like I was balancing on a tightrope.

I knew if I rushed, if I listened, I'd fall to my death. I couldn't even look at her. I just had to look at my feet, so I could follow the small path scarred into the cliff.

I didn't know where I was going, and I didn't know why I couldn't just step back down towards the grass and go away from the edge entirely. But I knew with my whole heart that this was a matter of life or death, and I couldn't listen to anyone else about it.

I woke up with my heart pounding, my sheets covered in sweat. I looked over at the woman sleeping beside me. Good, I hadn't awakened her. I slipped out of bed and padded out of the bedroom.

I washed my face and got a drink of water. I walked around the living room, pacing, thinking about the dream.

Things can seem really clear in dreams, even when they're not.

I thought about texting my partner, but I don't know why. It wasn't like he could do anything about any of it, and he was probably sound asleep, like I should be.

I doubted he ever woke up like that, or felt so strangely unsettled by a dream.

I grabbed my phone to check emails and scroll around online until I felt tired enough to sleep. If that ever happened.

There was nothing in the news that wasn't just going to stress me out more, but I wasted some time reading relationship drama posts online, and then went down a rabbit hole or two about gaming. It had been a while since I got to do much gaming. I wondered if it was worth the bother to try to start playing something tonight. Would it relax me, or just make me lose any last chance at sleep? Probably easier to just mindlessly scroll forums about other people's problems.

My phone chimed—a text from Arlie. I felt myself smiling before I even read it.

Do you want donuts?

Forget the forums. I texted him back immediately.

You're up early. No thanks to donuts.

Can't sleep, he texted.Wanna go to the gym?

Damn it. Yes, I did. I hated that I felt like I was going to suffocate if I stayed here, that the phone was my only escape—that I didn't want to go back and join my girlfriend in our bed, which was supposed to be a sanctuary. Or sleep more and find out what other dream I'd have.

We met up in the parking lot. I parked near his car and got out. He got out of his car and hugged me. I always liked being hugged by Arlie. I hadn't had many friends who liked hugs before, and my family wasn't particularly demonstrative. When it turned out he was a hugger, I'd been a bit surprised. He looked so macho, like he wouldn't be super friendly and affectionate. But he was, with me. I'd gotten used to it pretty quickly, and actively liked it now.

There's something nice about a big strong guy not being ashamed to show how happy he is to see you, and wanting to wrap his arms around you in greeting. It felt special, being Arlie's partner. It always felt like as soon as I got there, he noticed, and my presence made everything brighter.

"Bad night?"I asked him.

He shrugged. "You know how it is."

Sure, I knew how it was. But I didn't know he did. We went in together to get a workout in, and by the time we were done, I felt somewhat revived, and even though I hadn't gotten enough sleep, I knew I could face the day, with Arlie by my side.

"Where do you want to eat?"he asked.

I could go home, cook something. Face Darby and her wrath. Or sadness. I didn't know which one would be worse.

"We could go back to my place and have breakfast with the pack," he offered gently. I realized he'd been watching my face, with maybe a little too much understanding in his gaze.

I raked fingernails through my hair. "Um, sure. I'd like that." I tried to sound casual. It was kind of a treat to be invited to eat with the pack for a home cooked breakfast. They always had a lot of food, and all of it was good. Sometimes I felt like a younger sibling who couldn't keep up.

Wolves ate a lot, and sometimes they got competitive. There was a reason shifters were barred from some eating competitions; there had been shifters who joined just "for a good meal," and walked away with the championship.

We drove over to his place and parked next to each other. I thought I probably shouldn't care about how good our cars looked next to each other, but I did. I always liked the way their colors matched—not the same, but looking good together, his blue, mine greenish turquoise. I liked it when we matched.

He gave me another hug when we got out of the cars. "What was that for?" I was surprised, but pleased.

"You looked like you needed it." He studied my face for a moment. "You know it's not working, right? Something's not working with you and Darby."

"Uh. Yeah. I know. I'm planning to—end things."