Day 13: Sunday
Nicky was standing over him, holding the TV remote control. “Rich?” she asked, a concerned tone in her voice. “What are you doing down here?” Sitting on the couch, Richard snapped out of his trance, completely disoriented. He had never felt so lethargic and strange; like he was slipping in and out of some hallucinogenic state. Was Nicky really there with him in the living room, or was she just a part of Christina’s hold over him?
He couldn’t be sure.
Rubbing his eyes and face, he scanned the room, ignoring Nicky’s bafflement, looking for signs of Christina and Peter. There were none. Had he dreamed it all? Or was this the contact Karen had spoken of?
Taking a few seconds to fully come to, he opened his mouth to tell her of the night he had just experienced, but then held back, wondering whether or not it was such a good idea. The last thing he wanted to do was to scare her or cause another argument, especially after seeing Christina in such a way. So instead he simply said, “I love you, Nic. You know that, don’t you? I love you more than anything.”
Smiling, she sat beside him, putting the remote control down on the arm of the couch. “Of course I know. And I love you too. What’s brought—” She broke off her sentence when she looked down at his trembling hands. “You’re shaking—what’s wrong?” Then she looked at his face. “And you’re as white as a sheet.”
He glanced down at his quivering hands. “It’s nothing. Just had a bad dream,” he said, unconvincingly. “Did you sleep okay?”
Frowning at his blatant attempt to move the focus to her, she grasped his hands. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.” He forced a painful smile. “Never better.”
“Are you ill or something? You seem really strange.”
“Everything’s fine. Just had a lousy night, that’s all.”
Unconvinced, she placed her palm over his forehead. “Well, you haven’t got a temperature, but…”
He moved his head away from her hand. “See, I told you I was fine. Don’t worry about me.”
“Well, I am worried about you,” she said, firmly. “You’re acting really odd.”
Holding her hands again, he forced another smile. “Look, I just had a nightmare, that’s all. Nothing to worry about. Honestly.”
Suspiciously scowling, she sat back. “A nightmare about what?”
“I dreamed that you left me,” he told her perkily, as if getting over his disorientation. “You were shacked up with some other guy. It was horrible.”
Clearly amused and relieved at the same time, she pulled him closer and kissed his cheek. “Oh, that is horrible. And what did you do in the dream? Did you kick his ass?”
He shrugged. “Can’t remember now. But it was so real.”
Gently releasing from his hold, she changed positions on the couch, resting her legs on his lap. “Well, maybe I am leaving you,” she said, jokingly. “And maybe you’re psychic.”
He grinned, happy in the knowledge that she had bought his story. “I hope not.”
“Why did you come down here in the first place? Couldn’t sleep?”
Stroking her legs over her pink pajama bottoms, he nodded. “Yeah. Didn’t want to disturb you.”
“There’s no need to come down here. I don’t mind. You know I can sleep through anything.”
“It’s not just that. Down here I can fall asleep to the TV. I was just tossing and turning for hours up there.”
“Worried about going back to work?”
He shrugged again. “No—well, maybe a little. Just hope that my body clock goes back to the way it was. I hate this. I hate not sleeping properly.”
“Yeah, me too,” she said, reaching for the remote control behind her, and switching the TV back on. “Not long now. You’ll be back in on Tuesday. Just take it easy for the next two days. Enjoy them while you can.”