Present DayJackie, AGE 35
Present Day
Jackie laid in her bed, eyes wet, staring up at the ceiling like she had not moved in years.
Her chest still felt tight, like the past had not fully let her go yet.
A soft knock broke through the quiet. She turned her head toward the door just as it cracked open.
Fat Daddy stood in the doorway, his pajamas twisted around his little body, eyes heavy and barely open.
“Mommy… can I sleep with you tonight?” he asked, voice raspy and thick with sleep.
Jackie pushed herself up quickly, wiping at her face before he could really see her.
“I thought you was being a big boy and sleeping in your own bed,” she said, her voice softer than she meant.
“I was,” he mumbled. “Then I saw the monster in my sleep.”
“C’mere,” she said, lifting the blanket and making room.
He climbed into the bed without another word, curling into her like it was instinct.
Jackie wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close, tucking him into her chest the same way she used to when he was just four months old.
“It was just a dream, baby,” she whispered, smoothing her hand over his back. He shook his head lightly against her.
“Mommy… it didn’t feel like one.”
Jackie stilled for a second, before she pulled him closer. “I know,” she said gently.
“But it was just a dream. And dreams can’t—what?
” She asked it softly, already feeling his body go slack against her, as sleep started to pull him under again.
“Dreams can’t hurt you,” he murmured, half asleep.
“That’s right,” she whispered. “They can’t.
And I won’t let them,” she said trying her hardest to steady her voice.
Even if her heart wasn’t. Fat Daddy relaxed against her after a moment, his breathing finally evening out.
Just as sleep took him fully. Jackie held him tighter.
Not because he needed it. But because she did.