Chapter 26 Nyah #2
Caleb and I swayed on the dance floor with Lucas tucked safely between us, his small hands curled into ours as the night’s final song played softly in the background. For the first time in a long while, I allowed myself to believe that comfort and longing could exist in the same breath.
Caleb’s visits decreased slightly as work kept him busy and constantly on the move, flying in and out of cities.
One night in early December, after he surprised Lucas and me by stopping by for dinner, a sadness fell over me as he got ready to leave. I tried to hide it, but the distant, empty look on my face betrayed me.
“I’ll stay for a bit longer if we watch a movie,” he said gently.
I smiled and put Anna and the King on Netflix. The screen came alive with Jodie Foster’s face, the opening music filling the room, and somewhere halfway through the movie, exhaustion pulled me under. I drifted off without realizing it and slipped straight into a dream.
“No, no, you can’t do this to me!” I was running, my lungs burning as my screams tore out of my throat.
This can’t be real. It’s not possible. My feet felt heavy, like they were sinking into the floor with every step.
“Get your hands off me!” I screamed, kicking wildly, my voice breaking with terror.
The air was thick and stale, heavy with that musty smell that made my stomach churn. I knew it before I saw it.
Dauphin.
The walls closed in around me, dim and familiar, and there it was—the old, torn couch shoved into the corner, its fabric ripped and sagging like a silent witness.
“GET OFF ME! GET OFF ME!”
My body felt icy and weak, my limbs slow and unresponsive, panic crashing through me in violent waves. Escape was the only thought left in my mind.
I fought with everything I had. I kicked.
I punched. I clawed at him—at Jeremy—but it was like hitting smoke.
He kept coming. His hands were slick with sweat, his grip iron-hard, his breath hot against my skin.
No matter how hard I struggled, I couldn’t break free.
My muscles screamed, my vision blurred, and fear wrapped itself around my throat until I could barely breathe.
Then I heard it.
Caleb’s voice… distant at first, muffled, like it was coming from underwater.
“It’s a dream, Nyah. I’m here. It’s only a dream. You’re safe. I’m right here.”
Where are you? Why won’t you save me? I twisted away and ran toward the sound of his voice, my heart hammering, desperation clawing at my chest. I called for him, but my voice came out thin and useless.
No matter how fast I ran, I couldn’t reach him.
The darkness stretched endlessly around me, swallowing everything.
I jolted awake with a strangled gasp, my body jerking violently as though I’d been thrown back into myself. My chest heaved, air scraping painfully down my throat.
I grabbed onto Caleb without thinking. My fingers dug into his shirt, clutching him.
My skin still burned where Jeremy’s hands had been.
The sensation lingered—phantom pressure along my wrists, my ribs aching as if I’d truly been pinned down.
My muscles trembled uncontrollably, weak and spent, and a dull soreness spread through my limbs.
Sweat soaked my hairline and slid down my temples, my heart slamming so hard against my chest it made me dizzy.
It was just a dream!
Caleb wrapped his arms around me instantly, firmly, pulling me against him. One hand cradled the back of my head, the other pressing flat between my shoulder blades.
“It’s okay,” he whispered, his voice thick, strained with something deeper than calm. “You’re safe. It’s over now.”
I squeezed my eyes shut and let myself collapse into him, my body finally registering that I was safe.
My pulse throbbed painfully in my neck. My mouth was dry, my fingers tingling as though the fear was still trapped inside my bloodstream.
When I finally pulled back, just enough to breathe, I saw his face clearly.
The lamp beside me cast a warm, golden glow over his features, but it couldn’t soften the look in his eyes.
They were dark with worry, jaw tight, brows drawn together.
There was something else there, too—something sharp and aching.
Pain. Helplessness. And beneath it all, a fierce, unmistakable protectiveness.
“I’m okay,” I said, filling the silence. “I’m okay now.”
He searched my face like he was cataloging every breath, every tremor, every crack in my composure.
“Are you sure?” he asked quietly. His eyes lingered on me as if he was bracing for me to break again. “You don’t look fine.”
“I… I’m okay,” I said, even though my body disagreed, even though my hands still shook faintly in my lap. “Just a bad dream.” It had been a while since I’d had a nightmare like this.
He didn’t believe me. I could see it in the way his gaze sharpened, the way his shoulders squared like he was preparing for a threat he couldn’t see.
“Nyah,” he said softly, holding my shoulders again gently.
“What aren’t you telling me? Is someone trying to hurt you?
” He tilted his head, trying to catch my eyes, his thumb brushing my arm in a slow, soothing motion.
“Let me help you,” he said in a firm voice.
“Whatever it is, I can help you. I’ll keep you safe. I’ll keep Lucas safe. I promise.”
The word promise made my throat tighten. “Water,” I said, needing the space and the distance.
“I’ll get it.”
As soon as he left the room, I hurried into the bathroom and splashed water on my face. I needed to let go of this fear, and Tyrone was the only one who could help me.
Caleb returned with a glass of water, and I gulped it down.
“Nyah… I’m right here. Talk to me.”
I stepped back before he could see too much and before the truth spilled out. “It was just a nightmare,” I insisted, forcing steadiness into my voice. “Nothing more.” I couldn’t risk anything happening to him if he knew the truth.
I walked toward the kitchen, forcing myself to breathe, trying to pull myself together. Caleb’s eyes stayed on me—watching, assessing, as if he could see straight through the calm I was trying to manufacture.
“I’m fine,” I said softly. “I promise. You don’t need to worry.” I tried to sound convincing enough that he would leave, even though my body still felt shaky.
He looked unconvinced, his hesitation written all over his face, but he didn’t push for an explanation. Instead, he told me to call him if I needed him—any time.
After he left, I locked the door and went to the side window, peering out into the street.
I waited for his car to emerge from the visitors’ lot, my eyes darting along the road in both directions, tension coiled tight in my chest. When he finally drove away, I went and checked on Lucas, who was sleeping peacefully.
Sleep evaded me for most of the night as the past refused to stay where it belonged—buried and silent. It hovered, pressing at the edges of my mind, demanding to be remembered.