Addicted to You (Devils Right Hand MC #3)

Chapter 33

Gabby's POV

"Mommy!" A little boy with light brown hair and bright blue eyes squeals from a distance. We are standing in a field, but he is on the opposite side.

"Hi, baby!" I smile in response as his little legs carry him across the field. His smile is so large it covers his entire face and I notice he has a dimple on his left cheek just like his dad. God, I never knew perfection could take a human form, but this little boy is the closest thing I will ever know to perfect.

"Oh, my Dawson," I say as he is only a few feet in front of me. I bend down, arms wide open, waiting for him to finally make it to me. Waiting to finally be able to hold my baby boy. He's so close I can smell his sweet scent. 

This is it. This is everything I've ever wanted. He is mere inches away from me and I can feel his warmth radiate to me. I can feel his youthful joy, but then I can't. Suddenly, I don't feel him anymore. I close my arms, expecting him to be in my grasp, but they're just empty. I open my eyes, searching desperately for any sign of him, but the only thing I see is an empty field. 

He's gone. My arms are empty.

"Gabby!" I hear as I jump back into reality.

It was just a dream. No, it was a nightmare. Maybe it was both.

A dream because I got to see him. Sure, he's just a figment of my imagination, but I now have an image to cling to. However, this is a nightmare because I lost him. I was so close. He was so close, but he just disappeared. 

"Sorry," I say as I sit up in bed. Axe stayed the night with me. He held me all night and we cried together. Even after everything, he's the one person who can hold me together when I feel like falling apart.

"Don't apologize," he murmurs as he rises up in bed. His hand lingers just inches away from my back as if he is hesitant to touch me. God, I hate what we have become.

"It was just a dream," I whisper, hoping he understands what I am saying. As sleep leaves my body, reality and anxiety enter it. No, that doesn't even begin to describe what I feel. I feel, empty. Like somebody scoped out my insides. Like nothing in life matters. I mean, I lost my mother and my baby in a span of 7 days. Seven fucking days. I don't have anything left.

"How are you feeling?"

"Empty." The word leaves my lips before I can talk myself out of it. Instantly, I regret it because it looks as if I drove a dagger into his heart. His eyes are full of emotion as he stares into mine, but he doesn't say anything. We just look at each other. I didn't realize how long it had been since I'd actually looked at him. 

"Uh- Grease gave me the rest of the week off," he says awkwardly as he breaks our gaze. "I could -um," I know what he's offering and I know why he's afraid to. I should tell him to go. I should tell him this will just make it harder on both of us in the end, but I'm not strong enough. A part of me is screaming that this will end badly, but a bigger part of me can't think that far ahead.

"Okay."

"Okay," he nods. "Are you in any pain?"

Of course, I am. But not the kind of pain he is asking about.

"No, I think that part is over," I mumble. He's all gone, there is no reason for me to be in pain now.

"Okay."