to become “used to,” and next week, we’d know if that was possible.
Two nights later, I cursed as I fumbled through the kitchen cabinets, holding my phone up as a flashlight so I didn’t wake Zoe.
Yesterday, she’d bought that same tea she’d given me in Seattle. I knew it was around here somewhere, and since I’d pinned all my hopes for getting back to sleep on that little box, I needed to find it. The teakettle was already full and heating on the burner behind me.
The dream tonight had felt real. They always did to some degree, but tonight I’d woken up covered in sweat, my neck arched, and my muscles straining against a villain who only existed in my memories.
Let me help. That’s what she’d said in real life. She’d found a bag of frozen peas and wrapped it in a dishtowel, then held it against my cheek. In my dream, she’d been on the floor, her curls matted and red, staring at me through lifeless eyes.
Fuck, I wanted a drink. I wanted anything that would block out the dream and help shove the memories back in the little locked box I tried my best to keep them in.
But I couldn’t take the drink, because I wouldn’t stop at one. I couldn’t refill the Xanax prescription or the Ambien. The only thing I could do was make some goddamned tea, and I couldn’t even find the box.
I knocked something out of the cabinet, and it fell to the granite beneath, shattering.
“Fuck!”
Sure enough, a moment later, the hall light came on, then the kitchen light blared overhead, harsh and brutally bright.
“What are you doing?” Zoe asked, her cheeks pink with sleep.
“Stay there,” I barked over my shoulder. “I broke something, and I don’t want you to get cut.” There was sugar all over the counter, and little shards of crystal lay scattered from the granite to the floor.
The teakettle started to whistle.
“You stay there,” Zoe ordered, walking around the island to take the water off the stove. “You’re the one who’s barefoot...and shirtless. At least I have on slippers.”
“A shirt isn’t going to help this situation, and I’m not just going to stand here while you clean up my mess.” I brushed the sugar and glass into my open palm as she grabbed the broom and dustpan.
“That’s exactly what you’re going to do.” She swept around my feet, and as soon as I had a path, I dumped the contents of my hand into the trash can.
“Shit.” She hissed.
I turned to see her on the floor, cradling her hand. My stomach twisted at the thin line of blood just below her thumb. “Zoe. Damn it.” I came up behind her and scooped her up beneath her arms, turning so I could sit her on the island. “I told you not to clean up my mess.”
“That’s literally my job,” she snapped. “And it’s not bad. See?”
“What I see is you bleeding because I couldn’t find the damned tea. Just…stay there. And this time, I mean it.” I pointed at her, like that would help, then grabbed the first aid kit from where I’d seen it in the downstairs bathroom.
“It’s not that bad,” she repeated as I came back. “Just needs a Band-Aid.”
I put the kit on the counter and snapped open the lid, then glanced at the blood that welled along the cut. “Let me help.”
Let me help. It was her voice I heard now, reminding me that when she’d been the one to need it, I hadn’t been there. The blood on Zoe’s hand was the same shade as the curly hair in my dream. My chest tightened as I fought the urge to let the box fly open, fought the urge to stand in that kitchen and scream at the injustice of a world that allowed someone like me to live, but not—
“Nixon?” Zoe prompted softly.
I blinked, bringing her face into focus, using the startling green of her eyes to ground me.
“It’s okay,” she whispered. “I don’t like blood either.” She plucked a bandage from the container, cleaned the cut with an alcohol pad, then dressed it herself. Calm. Efficient. Steady.
Everything I wasn’t.
“Good as new.” She flashed a smile, but when she moved to jump from the counter, I gripped her warm hips over the thin shorts of her pajamas.
“Stay put.” I finished cleaning up the glass, and only when I was certain there was nothing left that could cut her, I nodded. “Okay. It’s good.”