{"id":163,"date":"2020-03-25T02:07:15","date_gmt":"2020-03-25T02:07:15","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/deadsquirrelpro.com\/sethpen\/?page_id=163"},"modified":"2025-04-02T14:46:47","modified_gmt":"2025-04-02T14:46:47","slug":"dream-junkies-peaches","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/deadsquirrelpro.com\/sethpen\/short-stories\/dream-junkies-peaches\/","title":{"rendered":"Dream Junkies: Peaches"},"content":{"rendered":"\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\"><em>(Trigger Warning: Domestic Violence, Alcoholism)<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n<details class=\"wp-block-details is-layout-flow wp-block-details-is-layout-flow\"><summary>Word Document<\/summary>\n<div class=\"wp-block-file\"><a id=\"wp-block-file--media-91c95eb5-c9e5-4d59-8911-7aefa6df236e\" href=\"https:\/\/deadsquirrelpro.com\/sethpen\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/7\/2025\/04\/Dream-Junkies-Peaches-2.3.docx\">Dream Junkies &#8211; Peaches 2.3<\/a><a href=\"https:\/\/deadsquirrelpro.com\/sethpen\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/7\/2025\/04\/Dream-Junkies-Peaches-2.3.docx\" class=\"wp-block-file__button wp-element-button\" download aria-describedby=\"wp-block-file--media-91c95eb5-c9e5-4d59-8911-7aefa6df236e\">Download<\/a><\/div>\n<\/details>\n\n\n\n<details class=\"wp-block-details is-layout-flow wp-block-details-is-layout-flow\"><summary>PDF<\/summary>\n<div data-wp-interactive=\"core\/file\" class=\"wp-block-file\"><object data-wp-bind--hidden=\"!state.hasPdfPreview\" hidden class=\"wp-block-file__embed\" data=\"https:\/\/deadsquirrelpro.com\/sethpen\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/7\/2025\/04\/Dream-Junkies-Peaches-2.3.pdf\" type=\"application\/pdf\" style=\"width:100%;height:600px\" aria-label=\"Embed of Dream Junkies - Peaches 2.3.\"><\/object><a id=\"wp-block-file--media-e2e5119a-2680-415c-9aed-4092e8052db0\" href=\"https:\/\/deadsquirrelpro.com\/sethpen\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/7\/2025\/04\/Dream-Junkies-Peaches-2.3.pdf\">Dream Junkies &#8211; Peaches 2.3<\/a><a href=\"https:\/\/deadsquirrelpro.com\/sethpen\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/7\/2025\/04\/Dream-Junkies-Peaches-2.3.pdf\" class=\"wp-block-file__button wp-element-button\" download aria-describedby=\"wp-block-file--media-e2e5119a-2680-415c-9aed-4092e8052db0\">Download<\/a><\/div>\n<\/details>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">Read Online:<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \u201cNow I can\u2019t even sleep! I\u2019m serious, I\u2019m not sure if I ever actually fall asleep. I\u2019m so terrified, the moment I start to drift off my whole-body jolts. At this point I don\u2019t know what\u2019s worse: the insomnia or the nightmares,\u201d she threw her hands up and shook her head. Pulling her gaze off the floor, she asked the circle, \u201cWere the dreams really that bad? My head hurts, my entire body aches. This sleep deprivation is literally killing me. I\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Her tongue fell limp. The eyes staring back seemed empty or narrowed and she didn\u2019t know why. Slouching forward, she planted her elbows on her knees and cradled her head.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \u201cAre you saying\u2026\u201d the inquirer had the decency to pause, force a wry smile, and insert her subject\u2019s name, \u201cSarah.\u201d Then all decency expired and off came the mask. With raised brow, pursed lips, and a glare that seemed to squeeze her eyes up from underneath, the interrogator asked, \u201cAre you saying he only hurts you in your dreams?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-text-align-center wp-block-paragraph\">&#8211; &#8211; &#8211;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Blood rushed to the front of Sarah\u2019s face, setting her cheeks ablaze, and for some reason that\u2019s what she felt most. Not the throbbing of her brain bashing itself against the inside of her skull, trying to break free like a parasite trapped within a dying host. Not the freight-train thundering in her ears nor the metallic taste on her tongue. Not even the stabs of pain radiating out from Tom\u2019s callused grasp as his hands crushed her throat.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \u201cDrink it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Her fingers prickled but she managed to hold the bottle. Her arms felt as though they were filled with pins and needles, as if submerged in the slushy water below the surface of a frozen lake, but up rose the bottle.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \u201cIn the mouth.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <em>Thanks, Tom.<\/em> Like she might\u2019ve forgotten.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Her neck muscles jabbed her jaw, squeezing up from below like toothpaste from a tube, but she got the bottle to her lips. Merlot slipped through the gaps in her clenched teeth, blending with blood before trickling back out to drip down her chin. Tom lifted his arms to tilt her head and the wine began to pool in the back of her throat. She tried to swallow but choked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <em>Uh oh. <\/em>She didn\u2019t fight it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Wine erupted from her lips, painting her husband\u2019s face crimson. He staggered away from her. She fell back against the door and gasped for air, but didn\u2019t take her eyes off him. His face was now more flushed than hers. His hands balled into fists. She took another big gulp of air but this time, as she exhaled, she began to snicker.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Surging forward, Tom grabbed her again. This time not to choke \u2013 at least not yet. He kept one hand free. The hand on her neck was there to position her, holding her still, the other was there to inflict pain, but before that hand came to exact discipline, Sarah was determined to get out her quip.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cYou know I hate red wine.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 In the real world, Tom\u2019s fist slamming into her face would\u2019ve knocked her out cold, but this wasn\u2019t the real world. This was a dream. Instead, the punch jerked her wide awake. Her consciousness had regained control of the steering wheel and yanked her back to reality \u2013 where Tom would never hurt her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-text-align-center wp-block-paragraph\">&#8211; &#8211; &#8211;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cYes,\u201d Sarah stated, \u201cMy husband would neverhurt me in real life.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cBut the drinking,\u201d a soft-spoken member of the circle chimed in, \u201cthe drinking problem, that\u2019s not just in your dreams, is it?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cI don\u2019t know,\u201d Sarah admitted.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 The not-so-soft-spoken group member from before perked back up. <em>\u201cYou don\u2019t know?\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cMaya,\u201d The Therapist snapped.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Maya sighed through her teeth, flaring her nostrils as she cocked her head to the side and crossed her arms. The Therapist leered at Maya for a moment longer but then returned her gaze to Sarah.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cHe <em>had <\/em>a drinking problem,\u201d Sarah explained.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cAnd you\u2019re worried he might\u2019ve relapsed?\u201d the Therapist asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Sarah nodded.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cThat\u2019s not unreasonable,\u201d the Therapist said slowly. She bore a faint smile, a smile that was only strong enough to assure everyone that she wasn\u2019t frowning. This should\u2019ve comforted Sarah \u2013 it worked for most of the others gathered in the circle \u2013 but it didn\u2019t work for Sarah. That smile didn\u2019t just say, \u201cI care.\u201d It also said, \u201cI know.\u201d And that\u2019s what bothered Sarah because Sarah was pretty damn sure the Therapist did <em>not <\/em>know.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 The Therapist asked, \u201cHave you asked him?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cI could\u2026\u201d Sarah stalled with a shaky breath, debating whether or not to provide more context. Her eyes darted over to Maya\u2019s sardonic glare but after scanning the other faces in the circle she gave in, \u201cI\u2019m scared. He\u2019s been gone \u2013 for a week now. He drives. He\u2019s a trucker-\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cHe\u2019s drinking,\u201d Maya chirped.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cMaya!\u201d The fire that jumped into the Therapist\u2019s eyes was the first comforting thing Sarah had seen from her. \u201cApologize!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 In a surprisingly effective display of sincerity, Maya shook her head at herself. \u201cI\u2019m sorry, this is not the place\u2026\u201d she met Sarah\u2019s eyes, \u201cthat was fucked of me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cIt\u2019s okay\u2026\u201d Sarah said with a tone that washed some of the shame off Maya\u2019s face, \u201cI know y\u2019all may think I\u2019m crazy. The whole scenario is out there, I mean&#8230;\u201d Sarah winked at Maya and clasped her chest, \u201chow am <em>I <\/em>married to <em>a<\/em> <em>trucker<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 There were chuckles and both Maya and the Therapist exhaled as the tension \u2013 at least, some of it \u2013 dissolved. The room began to show signs of thawing nerves.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cHe\u2019s a real trucker too,\u201d Sarah continued. \u201cnetted cap, wife beaters-\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cNo pun intended,\u201d Maya inserted.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Sarah gave Maya a snort for that one but kept on, \u201c-gym shorts and jerseys. Never saw him in a polo. Shit, the closest thing I think he\u2019s worn to a button up was a flannel \u2013 \u2018cept for when his mom died.\u201d Sarah shook her head and smiled. \u201cWhen his Mom died, that man went out and bought <em>\u2013 not rented <\/em>\u2013 bought a suit that must\u2019ve cost as much as the funeral.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cSounds like a good guy,\u201d the Therapist said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cYea, but good guys only go so far. I told him he had better rent for our wedding and save the money for the honeymoon,\u201d Sarah laughed at the memory.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cWhat\u2019d he say?\u201d the Therapist asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 This time, Sarah <em>actually<\/em> laughed. Short and quick, but authentic. \u201cHah! He begged and begged until one day I go, \u2018You spend more than $100 on our \u2013 on <em>your \u2013 <\/em>wedding suit\u2026\u2019 then I got so flustered I just shouted, \u2018Over my dead body!\u2019. Then he goes off smiling at me so I just know some joke is fixing to come out of his smart-ass mouth. So he says \u2013 get this,\u201d Sarah leaned forward as if to whisper but if anything she increased her volume, impersonating her best Tom. \u201c\u2018Cool, so I can get one for your funeral?\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 There was a brief reprieve of laughter before Maya jumped in, \u201cWas this before or after he stopped drinking?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cFuck off, Maya,\u201d Sarah shot back with a smirk.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Quiet threatened to settle in for a moment and the Therapist seemed prepared to allow it but of course Maya quickly broke it. Though, she surprised everyone by honing back in. \u201cYou really should ask him.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Sarah looked away, but her eyes landed on another member of the circle and he took her attention to mean she wanted him to weigh in. Shifting in his seat, he spoke through a sympathetic frown. \u201cI know we always say, \u2018They have to want it themselves.\u2019 but some people still need a little nudge sometimes. My husband didn\u2019t quit until he knew I wanted him to, maybe-\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cHe didn\u2019t quit for me,\u201d Sarah clarified. \u201cI mean, he quit for me, but for himself for me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cOh Lord\u2026\u201d Maya rolled her eyes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 The Therapist gave her a warning glare with all the effectiveness of a \u201cNo!\u201d levied at a toddler.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cCan we drink at these?\u201d Maya cut across the circle with a smirk.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cYou think you\u2019re funny,\u201d the Therapist retorted.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Maya shrugged, \u201cWhy do you think <em>my<\/em> husband drinks?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; The kind, quiet woman from before saved Maya by resuming the interrogation. \u201cSo why\u2019d he quit drinking then?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-text-align-center wp-block-paragraph\">&#8211; &#8211; &#8211;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; She awoke like a freediver breaking the surface of the sea, bolting upright with a gasp. Her feet were underneath her before her eyes started to see. Her knees buckled \u2013 at which point Tom normally would\u2019ve hurdled from his side of the bed and dove to catch her. Instead she crumpled to the floor.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; There was a clinking downstairs, a clinking she knew all too well. Three ice cubes splashed into three fingers of vodka. Soon there\u2019d be the quarter-second long trickle, the sound of what hardly qualified as a \u201csplash\u201d. <em>When you\u2019re home, the OJ in the fridge lasts longer than the vodka in the freezer.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; The noise normally annoyed her \u2013 signifying how the rest of the day was going to go \u2013 but that morning it squashed a larger concern: That she\u2019d forgotten what morning it was and Tom had already left off for another long haul. Instead, he was home, just not where she needed him. She needed to see his face. She needed to feel his arms and his tight but gentle squeeze around her waist. She needed to remember that, in the real world, Tom was a dream, not a nightmare.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; She hurried out of the bedroom, down the stairs, and into the kitchen. He heard her coming and spun to toast her approach. Setting his drink down, he stepped into her embrace. They squeezed their bare bodies together and lingered in silence for a moment.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \u201cPeaches?\u201d he asked, loosening his grip.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; <em>Nope, not yet. <\/em>She grabbed his forearms to re-administer his previous hold. His seriousness succumbed to a chuckle and her body relaxed again. They exhaled in unison. Then \u2013 and only then \u2013 did she ask in reply, \u201cMhm?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \u201cPeaches\u2026I uh\u2026\u201d He fumbled for a bit before finding it. \u201cI got something to say.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; She froze. This was the part when most partners would let go and take a step back to get a good look at the face of the one saying, \u201cI got Something to say.\u201d But somehow Sarah knew this wasn\u2019t that sort of Something. Even though Tom was obviously stressing over said Something, this was a Something that would be good. Difficult \u2013 maybe \u2013 but good. The fleeting panic drained from her body. Thawed, Sarah melted against him once more.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \u201cMhm?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \u201cI think I gotta stop drinking.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Sarah loosened her grasp and leaned back, letting him bear the weight of her torso so she could take a good look at his face. He smiled down at her then flinched and looked away. He cleared his throat with a nod, then re-met her gaze.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \u201cI can\u2019t remember things,\u201d he said. \u201cYou\u2019ll tell me all these stories about our late-night shenanigans and\u2026 man, half the time I can\u2019t remember any of it. And\u2026\u201d he sighed. Not a stalling-sigh, but a real sigh. An expression of sadness. \u201cOn those long drives, I don\u2019t have much else to do but think about you, Peaches. I mean, I got things I can listen to, folks to call \u2013 <em>you <\/em>to call \u2013 but you\u2019re at work all day and\u2026those drives used to be so nice when I could just sit and revel in all the shit we got up to while I was home. I could just dig through my memories and remember things I\u2019d forgot\u2026well, I used to. Now it seems like everything I forgot never happened. Half my new memories I just steal from the stories you tell me \u2013 like it wasn\u2019t even really me there, but someone else.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; He paused. Now <em>this <\/em>was a stalling pause. He was angling for her opinion, more specifically for her approval, hoping his silence would bait her thoughts like a fish. It didn\u2019t. Tom dropped his rod and gave in.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \u201cYou\u2019re being awfully quiet there, Peaches.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \u201cI love you,\u201d Sarah said, pressing her cheek into his chest and smiling up at him, \u201cand I wouldn\u2019t mind you remembering a little more, either.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \u201cAlright then.\u201d Tom nodded, letting go of Sarah with one arm to grab his drink, raising it for a toast, \u201cThat\u2019s it. I\u2019m quitting.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Sarah scoffed as he took a swig. \u201cThat\u2019s it, huh?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Tom shrugged, letting the ice rattle in his glass. \u201cWell, I gotta finish this one first!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-text-align-center wp-block-paragraph\">&#8211; &#8211; &#8211;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \u201cAfter he quit, the nightmares stopped,\u201d Sarah explained.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \u201cAnd you never told him he hurt you?\u201d the Therapist asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \u201cHe didn\u2019t hurt me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Sarah blurted the words out but they weren\u2019t even really hers. It was reflexive. Almost mechanical. Even as the words came out of her mouth and entered her ears, she couldn\u2019t stop them. They came out again, but this time they stuck in her throat.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \u201cHe didn\u2019t\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Her vision began to cloud and the voices of those in the circle around her blurred into a hum drum garble of sounds as if her ears were under water.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Sarah was absent for the rest of the meeting. She sat like a ghost, not quite lost in her thoughts, but not quite thinking either. Just hurting. Almost like there was a splinter she refused to remove, waiting instead for her body to push the intruder out \u2013 but her body never did. It just kept hurting. Then, just before the scab healed over it, the wound got caught and the scab was ripped off. The universe was giving her another chance. After all this time, now was her chance to remove the splinter she should\u2019ve removed so long ago.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; After all, Tom was coming home tonight.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \u201cCall me if you need me,\u201d the Therapist said. \u201cAnytime, I don\u2019t care.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Outside the community center, they stood on the steps as the others trickled past to their cars. Maya came up behind the Therapist. The Therapist whirled around ready to knock Maya\u2019s smugness right off her face but Maya\u2019s demeanor quelled the Therapist\u2019s protective instinct. An unbridled warmth recolored Maya\u2019s trademark sneer as she strode forward to clasp Sarah on the shoulder and press into her hand a receipt with a phone number scrawled sloppily on the back.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \u201cBabe\u2026\u201d Maya stared hard and Sarah wondered for a moment if she might cry, \u201cif it turns out you\u2019re wrong and he\u2019s still sober,\u201d Maya swallowed before the cool mask she\u2019d worn in the meeting fell back into place, \u201cdo ya think he could DD for us? Next time my husband drags me to the bar?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; The Therapist instantly regretted permitting Maya\u2019s final farewell, but Sarah laughed nonetheless. Promising to call both Maya and the Therapist, Sarah made a bit of small talk with the others then hurried off to her car.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 She couldn\u2019t help but feel like she was getting into a hearse rather than a Honda.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-text-align-center wp-block-paragraph\">&#8211; &#8211; &#8211;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 She hadn\u2019t spoken with him since the nightmares had started back. They hadn\u2019t exchanged so much as a text. Not even a Like. It was odd. Not so much for Sarah, but for Tom? Very odd.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Typically, Sarah had ten or so unread messages waiting for her when she woke up. Often a few voicemails and a slew of memes too, but now there was nothing. No pictures of sunsets from the road. No political commentary on social media. Nothing. Sure, she had ghosted him, but she hadn\u2019t expected to get the same in return. She couldn\u2019t help but worry that his silence came from a sense of guilt.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; She waited by the sink, scrubbing a saucer she\u2019d long since scraped clean. That\u2019s where she always waited. From there, she could see the front door over her shoulder, reflected in the dark glass of the kitchen window. Despite her soapy hands, she was ready.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 At first sight of the door opening, she\u2019d whirl around and pounce on him as he stepped inside. She\u2019d force a smile, knowing soon it\u2019d be authentic. She\u2019d lean back and look him in the eyes and before she could even ask \u2013 she\u2019d know. His steady gaze would assure her, his cool, clean breath would tickle her neck like a crisp, autumn breeze.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <em>Are you sure? <\/em>She tried not to entertain the thought but failed. <em>Of course he\u2019s drinking,<\/em> <em>Why else would the nightmares be back?<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Headlights flashed in the window as he pulled into the driveway. Sarah listened as his car door opened and closed. His footsteps sounded heavy as they drew closer. She turned to see his silhouette, striped by the blinds, hesitating in the porch light. She counted the seconds as he fumbled with his keys, straining her ears to assess whether there might be a clue in the jingling clumsiness. Then the knob twisted and she held her breath.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Tom stepped in then staggered back as the door slammed shut behind him. He slid down the door and his hands rushed up to hide his face, stifling sobs.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cSarah-\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cTom!\u201d Sarah stepped towards him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201c-I\u2019m sorry.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 She froze. Her body prickled with needles. Shivering, she opened her mouth to say something, but her lungs were empty. So empty she felt the urge to look down \u2013 but she couldn\u2019t. She couldn\u2019t take her eyes off him. She couldn\u2019t even blink. Time itself seemed to hinge on Tom\u2019s next words.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cI\u2019m so sorry, Sarah. And I wish I\u2019d said as much in person.\u201d Tom lowered his hands, letting his tears stream down his cheeks uninhibited. His body trembled from some place deep within, as if a fissure was radiating out from his heart.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cI could see the hurt in your eyes every time I poured another drink \u2013 every time I came home with another bottle.\u201d He clutched his collar, pulling as if he couldn\u2019t breathe, \u201cI knew it was there. I knew it was there and I waited so long to stop and even though I stopped, I never-\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 His body stopped quivering and he lifted his head. He looked forward, looking past her as he said, \u201cI never apologized and now I can\u2019t. You\u2019re gone.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Sarah stiffened. She took a good long look at him:<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 His eyes were wild but clear. His face pale, not flushed. His breath was fresh, clean, so clean she could taste it. Pine trees. And he was unusually clean cut. His hair was parted and greased down. There was no stubble on his chin.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 This was strange. Had he ever once shaved in the time that she\u2019d known him?<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; <em>Sure, he had shaved for his mother\u2019s funeral but<\/em>&#8211;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; He was wearing a new suit.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \u201cTom?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \u201cPeaches.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 He murmured it. It wasn\u2019t to her. It was to the aether.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cTom!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; She lunged forward with eyes so wide they might never close again. Her face ready to smash into his chest like a cannon ball, arms stretched wide to embrace him on impact, but she jettisoned right through as if he were a ghost. Through Tom and through the door, only to be stopped by a gentle embrace. She felt the warmth before anything else and knew who it was long before she understood why: the Therapist. Her presence shook Sarah to her core. She whirled around ready to run but saw only darkness \u2013 such darkness she had to blink to be sure her eyes were open. She fumbled around, reaching and kicking but finding nothing in the void. She turned back and submitted to the Therapist and her steady smile \u2013 the smile Sarah had doubted. The smile that was neither condescending nor comforting, merely knowing. Knowing the awful truth it now drove home:<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Tom wasn\u2019t the ghost.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \u201cWhy?\u201d she asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \u201cNo good reason,\u201d the Therapist replied.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \u201cHow?\u201d she asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cHere.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; The Therapist offered Sarah her jacket with a nudge. She accepted it mechanically, slipping it on as if automated while her attention remained fixated on the scene expanding before her. Rain began to fall in the darkness. Each droplet splattered around Sarah\u2019s feet, bringing a little color and form back to the abyss. Dark asphalt unfurled like a rug where the kitchen tile had once been. Sleet slicked the road, causing the street to glitter. Puddles stretched from one side to the other, blotting out the pavement markings like black holes. Clumps of snow melted in the margins, trickling down the hillside to the river below. Ahead extended a bridge. Illuminated only by flickering streetlights and flashing lightning, the bridge seemed to bend with each sideways sheet of pelting rain.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; She saw the Honda \u2013 her Honda \u2013 arching up from the opposite side of the river. The headlights twinkled like two golden stars, blinking as they passed the beams of the bridge.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Sarah flinched.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 She remembered now but she wasn\u2019t ready to look away just yet. She refixed her gaze and squinted into the storm. Her Honda was almost over the bridge when the rusted-out Chevy appeared. Hurtling up the slope, the truck weaved back and forth, bouncing between the shoulder and the yellow line. Sarah hadn\u2019t been able to see the pickup from the driver\u2019s seat of the Honda \u2013 not until the last moment. The Chevy\u2019s ricocheting headlights appeared to be some mixture of lightning and reflections, not another vehicle. Now, standing beside the Therapist, Sarah could see.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 The truck dipped just a bit to the right, just off the shoulder, and plowed into a snow pile. The bump would\u2019ve been harmless to the pickup but it startled the driver. They swerved, launching the truck over a slab of black ice that extended across the mouth of the bridge. Sarah, in the approaching car, slammed on the breaks. For a moment, both vehicles lost traction. The world kept turning underneath them, their wheels spinning to no avail, and then \u2013 collision.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Sarah clenched her eyes shut.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cNo good reason,\u201d the Therapist sighed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 A long roll of thunder masked the wrenching of metal as the guard rails gave way. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cThat\u2019s enough!\u201d Sarah\u2019s voice split through the clamor.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 All was quiet once more, except for the sound of Sarah panting. She let the raincoat slide off her shoulders and handed it back to the Therapist.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \u201cI thought we had more time,\u201d Sarah murmured.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; The Therapist took the jacket but did not let go of Sarah. Clasping her hands, the Therapist reassured her, \u201cYou do.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Sarah opened her eyes. The storm was gone, so was the icy bridge. She was back in the kitchen \u2013 or sort of. Darkness lingered in her peripheral vision, but light illuminated the room before her. Tom was getting up from the floor and she went to him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \u201cWhat am I gonna do without you?\u201d Tom whispered.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; She reached a hand up to caress his face. She could feel him, though she knew he couldn\u2019t feel her. She wanted to speak to him but why? He couldn\u2019t hear her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; She saw the Therapist standing behind him, a blur in the background. Sarah didn\u2019t turn away from his face, but she asked the Therapist, \u201cWill he be okay?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \u201cEventually.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cHe\u2019ll move on, though, right?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \u201cMove on?\u201d the Therapist scoffed, \u201cI thought you knew this man?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \u201cBut-\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; She choked on her tongue as Tom began to stir. His face slid right through her grasp as his body passed through her on his way out of the kitchen.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \u201cHe\u2019ll live a full life,\u201d the Therapist said, \u201cbecause he won\u2019t forget you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; His stride was long and slow. His shoulders were stooped and yet his chest upright. It looked like he\u2019d been propped up by a skewer, one stuck fast in his heart, and it wouldn\u2019t let him down, no matter how much he wished it would. Wrinkles shot across his forehead like ripples, only to freeze in place as more began to appear. The clean shave was quickly lost. Stubble came and was outgrown in seconds. Dark hair turned gray and curled out to form a beard. As the beard grew, the grayness spread up his sideburns to his scalp.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; The Therapist\u2019s voice was a distant echo, \u201cHe\u2019ll wear that suit every Sunday and he\u2019ll wait.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; His muscles began to thin and the suit fit him a bit less, except for around the belly. A little pudge pushed out where there had been nothing before, straining the suit\u2019s waistline.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 He made it to the stairs. The steps took him a while but he had plenty of time. Holding tight to the railing, he made his way up.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \u201cHe\u2019ll eat peaches upon peaches and rack up quite the tab at the dentist, but the bars will have long since forgotten his name.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; As Tom neared the top of the stairs he hesitated. Sarah was in front of him again, one step up on the landing. She could see herself reflected in his eyes. She\u2019d aged as well. Her shoulders were stooped, just like his. Her locks were now silver. Her lips a tad thinner. The edges of her eyes were wrinkled, but she couldn\u2019t tell if it was crow\u2019s feet or if it was the broad smile pushing up her cheeks. As she looked down at him, she could\u2019ve sworn \u2013 for the first time since she\u2019d left \u2013 that he was looking right at her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \u201cPeaches?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \u201cMhm?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \u201cI\u2019m sorry.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Tears budded on the brims of her eyelids and her swelling smile threatened to spill the tears right down her cheeks. She held them in, but this didn\u2019t help. It only served to blur her view.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \u201cI\u2019m sorry,\u201d Tom continued, \u201cI spent that nice honeymoon money on my suit, but I think\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 He looked around, though he couldn\u2019t see much either. While Sarah\u2019s floodgates held, Tom\u2019s had long since given way. He wiped his face with the back of his hand and faced Sarah again with a lopsided grin.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201c\u2026I think this place is all-inclusive?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Sarah flicked her tears away with a half sigh, half chuckle then stepped forward to tend to Tom\u2019s. She cupped his jaw and winked the last bit of tears out of her eyes with a smirk. Finally words came to her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cYou know, I bet you can get away with a drink in this place.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cNah, I don\u2019t want a drink,\u201d Tom smiled back, \u201cI don\u2019t even want water.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 His smile was growing and Sarah knew where it was headed. She\u2019d seen that smile many times before. It always started with Tom trying to stop it but the grin would burst free in his eyes and spread across his face until finally he said what he had to say.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cI came here for Peaches.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\"><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>(Trigger Warning: Domestic Violence, Alcoholism) Read Online: &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \u201cNow I can\u2019t even sleep! I\u2019m serious, I\u2019m not sure if I ever actually fall asleep. I\u2019m so terrified, the moment I start to drift off my whole-body jolts. At this point I don\u2019t know what\u2019s worse: the insomnia or the nightmares,\u201d she threw her hands up &hellip; <a href=\"https:\/\/deadsquirrelpro.com\/sethpen\/short-stories\/dream-junkies-peaches\/\" class=\"more-link\">Continue reading<span class=\"screen-reader-text\"> &#8220;Dream Junkies: Peaches&#8221;<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":7,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-163","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/deadsquirrelpro.com\/sethpen\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/163","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/deadsquirrelpro.com\/sethpen\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/deadsquirrelpro.com\/sethpen\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/deadsquirrelpro.com\/sethpen\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/deadsquirrelpro.com\/sethpen\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=163"}],"version-history":[{"count":9,"href":"https:\/\/deadsquirrelpro.com\/sethpen\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/163\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":188,"href":"https:\/\/deadsquirrelpro.com\/sethpen\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/163\/revisions\/188"}],"up":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/deadsquirrelpro.com\/sethpen\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/7"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/deadsquirrelpro.com\/sethpen\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=163"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}