Chapter 18

In the dimlight of dawn, Emma"s peaceful slumber was shattered by a sudden, tightening grip. Her heart catapulted into her throat as she gasped, a thick blanket of terror smothering her senses. Dan"s arm, a weighty shackle across her chest, pressed down with an eerie familiarity, sending her spiraling back into that fateful night. Her eyes flew open, wide and unseeing, darting frantically in the darkness.

"No, no!" she cried out. Her head thrashed wildly, and her limbs twitched, seeking escape from the demons of her past that lurked in the shadows of her room. She could feel the phantom hands, the remnants of a horror long-passed, but never forgotten, clutching her with chilling persistence.

A deep, concerned voice cut through the haze of her panic. "Emma, it"s okay, it"s just me," he murmured. But his words were distant, muffled under the pounding of her heart and the roaring in her ears.

Emma"s chest heaved with rapid, shallow breaths. Her eyes squeezed shut as she fought to anchor herself in the present. The terror that gripped her was a living, breathing entity, wrapping its cold fingers around her soul. She could feel the sweat beading on her forehead, the tremors racking her body as she struggled to break free from the invisible chains of her fear.

The room felt impossibly small, the walls closing in, suffocating her with the weight of unspoken nightmares. With Herculean effort, Emma wrenched herself from the strong arms holding her, tumbling out of the bed and onto the floor. Her breathing was erratic, a wild rhythm that refused to be tamed. The room spun around her, a carousel of shadows and half-formed fears, as she tried to piece together the fragments of reality.

"Emma, talk to me, what"s wrong?" The voice was laced with worry and confusion. "Sparks?"

The name pulled at something in her chest, but to Emma, it was just another echo in the chamber of her terror. Her mind was a whirlwind of emotions, a tangled mess of past and present that refused to untangle itself.

As the first rays of dawn began to seep through the curtains, casting a ghostly light over the room, Emma finally recognized Dan. The terror receded but left a residue of shame and confusion. Muttering a disjointed apology, she stumbled into the bathroom, letting the door click shut behind her. Under the shower"s spray, she tried to cleanse away the fear, but the water couldn"t wash away the memories or the guilt of her reaction. Her reflection in the foggy mirror was a stranger, one who couldn"t face the man outside or her haunted past.

Back in the bedroom, Dan sat on the edge of the bed, a figure of patience and confusion. His presence, usually so reassuring, now felt like an insurmountable distance. "The bathroom"s free," she managed to say, avoiding his eyes. "I"ve laid out some towels and a spare toothbrush for you." With those words, she escaped to the kitchen.

When Dan entered the kitchen about fifteen minutes later, she was still a bit shaky. Dan"s movements were measured, and his expression was guarded.

She gave him a wobbly smile. "Hey."

One eyebrow crept up. "Hey?" He closed the distance. "Sparks, talk to me. What just happened?"

"N-nothing. Just a nightmare." She evaded his embrace and busied herself with breakfast prepping.

"Emma." He blocked her path from the refrigerator to the breakfast nook. Taking the cheese from her hand and dropping it on the table, he carefully pulled her into his arms. "Come here."

Stiffly she stood in his embrace. He huffed a laugh, took her wrists, and wrapped her arms around his waist. "Just let me hold you for a bit. You gave us both a scare."

Warmth from his body seeped into her, and she leaned her head against his chest.

"There you go." Dan cradled the back of her head with his large palm. "I know how challenging it is to talk about... stuff, and I"m not going to demand it of you. All I offer is my help if you want to let go of some tension. I care for you, Sparks, and I want to be here for you."

Emma sighed and gave him more of her weight. He didn"t even stagger, just stood there holding her. As she was about to open up about what spooked her, her phone rang. The shrill tone was a jarring interruption.

"Sorry, I have to answer that."

Immediately, Dan released her from his hold.

Pulling her phone from her back pocket, Emma stepped back and pressed the answer button. "Dr. Sullivan," she answered without checking the caller ID.

* * *

In the early morning quiet, Dan observed Emma, the subtle tremble in her hands betraying her composed facade as she listened to the voice on the other end of the phone. "How bad is it?" she asked, her voice laced with a barely concealed anxiety that resonated through the room. Dan felt a knot tighten in his stomach, his instincts urging him to comfort her, yet he remained rooted to the spot, conflicted.

She hung up, her fingers lingering on the device as if it were a lifeline. Dan took a step forward, his voice gentle, yet firm. "Emma, talk to me. Please. Let me help," he implored, his gaze locked on her, searching for any sign she might open up.

But Emma"s response was a retreat, her eyes downcast as she whispered a need to see her father. Dan"s heart sank as he watched her withdraw into herself, her usual openness replaced by an impenetrable barrier. He felt a mixture of concern and frustration simmering within.

"I just want to be there for you, Emma. Why won"t you let me?" The question slipped out, laced with a hint of frustration and disappointment.

He saw her flinch slightly, her shoulders tensing.

When she faced him, her eyes reflected a storm of emotions—fear, pain, and a trace of longing for comfort. She stood silent, the words she needed to say barricaded behind her guarded expression.

As Dan reluctantly exited, the soft closure of the door marked the end of their strained encounter. He walked away with a heavy heart, pondering the complex layers of the woman he was coming to care for deeply. He knew her retreat wasn"t a rejection of him but a battle she was fighting within herself. Yet, the distance it created was palpable, and as he left her house, he couldn"t shake off the feeling of concern and the lingering question of how to bridge the gap that her silence had widened.