Page 101 of Wasted Grace

I blink, eyes adjusting reality again—to the soft orange glow of the night light I never sleep without. It halos his face. Pale. Frightened. But still... that flicker of love. Thatdamnflicker.

And I hate that I can’t unsee it.

I hate that for one unguarded second, some part of me wants to fall into it.

So I snap myself out.

I scramble away from him fully—harder than I need to. “I’m fine. You can leave.”

His chest rises in a slow, heavy exhale. His eyes close like he’s bracing for impact.

He nods once.

“Yeah, okay.”

He doesn’t argue. Doesn’t push. Just rises, silently, every movement stiff with pain. He pauses at my door for half a second, maybe to check if I’m still breathing, maybe to make sure I meant it. I don’t look up.

The door clicks shut behind him.

I exhale for the first time in what feels like hours. My limbs are trembling. Not from the fight. From the nightmare. From the weight of what just happened.

From the fact that it didn’t feel like a nightmare at all.

I collapse backward onto the bed, arms splayed, eyes wide open.

Then I force my eyes to close. But there’s no sleep left in me. Just the echo of panic, the heaviness in my chest, and the silent reminder that my fears of years ago haven’t fucking left me yet.

The sheets are soaked with sweat. And even though Iknownone of it was real—the fists, the blood, the laugh—I can stillfeelit on my skin. I can still hear it in the room.

Thank you.

Thank you.

Thank you.

TWENTY-SIX

Advik

My head snaps up when I hear her boots approaching. We’ve been silent roommates ever since her nightmare a couple nights ago.

I still feel the residual fear of discovering the violent thrashes through the door. How she clung to me as she chantedstop—over and over andoveragain.

I didn’t know what to do so I just held her through it. Eventually she had relaxed. But it didn’t last long. She had her knife on my throat within a second. Her expression blank yet combative.

Even though I didn’t want to leave her alone, I did. Because sheaskedme to. But within a few seconds I realized I couldn’t be anywhere but near her. Because how the fuck do I leave her alone after that?

Has this been happening thewhole time?Every night while I slept in the next room, did she wrestle demons I couldn’t see?

But the worst part—the one I can’t stop circling—is wonderingwhatshe saw.

What the hell did she dream about that had her paralyzed? What made her feel so utterly helpless that instead of actually stopping it with action—she had tovoiceit. Whimpering.

She walks in, fully dressed, eyes unreadable.

Monday snuck up on us. I’m dressed for work too, but not sure I’m actually ready for this week. Not with this heaviness sitting in my chest.

She sits across the kitchen counter without a word.