“How did you get in?”
I feel his smile against my shoulder. “I haven’t seen you in days and that’s the first thing you ask?”
“They think I’m nuts,” I whisper as a tear rolls down my cheek and onto the pillow. “They said you’re not real.”
“What do they know? You finished the dress?”
“Yes. She loved it. She forgave me.”
“That’s great. I knew you’d do it. You just needed a shove in the right direction.”
“Are you real, Nyx?” I ask, my voice breaking with emotion. “I’m scared, and I don’t know what’s real anymore.”
“You’re going to be fine, baby girl. Everything will be fine.”
The psychiatrist smiles over her notepad. “You wanted to ask me something?” she questions.
“Yes. If Nyx isn’t real, why do I feel him around me?”
“I think that your heart longs for the same security and love you once felt with your mum and Beck. I think you saw the grave beside Beck’s and you began to picture Nyx. I think you looked up his profile on social media and learnt things from there. Like how his grandpa and he were close.”
“So, I stalked a dead man and created him in my mind?”
“Your brain will do anything it needs to when it’s trying to fix you. It’s common to cling to things that make you feel safe. Like Nate. Like Nyx.”
“I thought I was pregnant,” I mutter.
“A family of your own would give you a sense of security and a reason to carry on.”
I bury my face in my hands. “We’ve had five sessions now, and I still feel him around me at night. Why isn’t he going?”
“It takes time. He will. Keep taking your pills and it will get easier. Therapy starts next week. You need to talk about your mum and Beck. Anything that’s been weighing you down.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Igrip Nyx’s hand. It’s resting on my stomach, like always. “It’s time,” he whispers.
“What for?” I mumble sleepily.
“To set you free.”
“From what?”
“Me.”
I frown. “What do you mean?”
“You don’t need me now, Andi. You’ve got this.”
“But we can’t sleep without each other,” I remind him.
He kisses my shoulder. “That’s what the pills are for. You’re doing amazing. I’m so fucking proud of you.”
“I don’t want you to go,” I mutter.
“I’m holding you back. You have to show everyone that you’re getting better now. You need to get home so you can make those dresses and live your dream. You’ll be amazing, Andi.”
“Will you ever come back?”