Page 76 of The Fall

His eyes widened at my vicious snap.

“If I had known—”

“You’d what?” I walked toward him, catching him off guard. “You would’ve come back to me then? Say the words. Tell me a baby would’ve changed your mind so I can hate you more than I do!”

“Hate me…Dallas, I didn’t know.”

“Tell me, Dean, when would’ve been a good time to tell you? You just stopped calling. I found out a week after you decided I wasn’t important to you anymore. Two weeks after that, it was too late.”

“In New York, you never said a word.”

“Why would I? You were done. Would that have been a better time?” I took another step toward him, all my anger and hurt coming back in waves.

Dean’s eyes watered as he studied me.

“I would’ve never seen you again after Christmas break. If I hadn’t flown to New York, it would’ve been over the night you boarded that plane and left me here. When you left Texas, you were done with me. Everything you promised me was a lie.” I took another step forward, glaring at him. “Everything Cammie said is the truth, and it was so much worse than what you could imagine, Dean. You wouldn’t even have recognized me if you would have come back. So, I guess it was for the best. Don’t worry. I never blamed you for the baby.”

His face crumbled as he palmed his forehead, his tears falling rapidly.

“Save it. It turns out that water can’t wash away everything, Dean.”

“Dallas,” he croaked, his voice bleeding as I walked out the door. “I came back for you.”

The whirring sound was the hardest for me to deal with, always letting me know they were coming. I braced myself for their arrival, but it was always the threat of them that hurt the most. I couldn’t help but ask for quick mercy. I was so tired, so weak. For the first time in this dream, I wanted them to catch up with me. The golden sky was mocking me. I felt anything but warmth as I stared at the sun surrounded by tornadoes. I clutched my chest, willing myself to be brave as I started to walk toward them. It was time…

POUND…POUND…POUND!

I shot out of bed, my chest heaving, and looked at my clock—9:00 P.M.

I was covered in sweat but was already stumbling toward the door. The pounding began again as I fumbled between sleep and reality, still reeling from my dream. I opened my door only to close it when I saw Dean’s angry face.

“If you wanted to avoid me, you should’ve gone somewhere else,” he snapped, catching the door and pushing it open, forcing his way past me.

“Sorry, my mistake. I didn’t realize it was no longer safe to go home,” I snapped back, the sarcasm dripping off every word. I raced to the kitchen, my throat dry and my head pounding. I downed a bottle of water as he glared at me from the other side of my bar. I gave him a weary look as I took a bottle of Patron out and poured two shots, setting one in front of him while downing my own. The burn was welcome as I prayed for a quick buzz. The dream had left me raw and emotional, and I wanted nothing more than to feel numb again.

Dean capped the Patron. I shrugged and grabbed his shot, downing it.

“I want answers,” he said, moving the bottle out of my reach.

“You haven’t asked any questions.” I grabbed a paper towel and dampened it, wiping off my face.

Dean’s face softened as he took in my appearance. I had to look like hell. I was shaking from the nightmare and covered in sweat.

“Another dream?”

“Yeah, look, I need a shower. I have work tomorrow. Can we do this later?”

“No,” he said adamantly.

I glared at him, took in his disheveled appearance, and burst out laughing. His clothes were mismatched, and his hair was tucked under a ball cap.

“Well, there’s a first. Mr. Perfect looks like a bum. Tell me, Dean, is this the first time you’ve ever left your house without your argyle socks?”

His eyes lit fire as he took a step toward me. “I’m fucking warning you now, Dallas. Stop.”

“Or what, you’ll go find my iron?” I knew I was being impossible. I was good at it. Jokes were how I’d dealt with everything that hurt too much or terrified me.

He quickly grabbed the tequila bottle, apparently changing his mind about it. He took two shots from the glasses I set out before his eyes found mine, holding me where I stood.