‘I’m going to go home for a bit, check David hasn’t killed the twins or vice versa,’ says Claire.
‘Sure,’ Paul replies.
‘Shit, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to even mention the twins, let alone . . .’
‘It’s fine.’
‘You sure I can’t give you a lift?’
‘No. I’m not leaving her again. Not this time.’
I hear the door open.
‘Claire?’
‘Yes?’
‘This isn’t your fault.’
He’s being kind to her, but he’s wrong. This is Claire’s fault. Everything that is wrong with my life is Claire’s fault. I hear her leave and I’m glad.
Paul’s hand holds mine, it feels strong and warm and safe.
‘I’m so sorry,’ he whispers. ‘I just keep letting you down. I should have been here.’
I imagine Paul watching what Edward did to me in this room. I picture him sitting at home, so far away and seeing a stranger slip his hand beneath my sheet. I’ve been imprisoned inside a nightmare but Paul has been trapped outside, forced to watch me live it. He has been wanting to get in just as much as I wanted to get out.
‘I love you so much,’ he says and kisses me on the forehead.
He’s been through his own personal hell while I’ve been sleeping in my own. I wish that I could tell him how sorry I am for putting him through all of this and that I love him too. I say the words over and over in my head until they sound fat and real.
‘I love you.’
‘Oh, my God,’ says Paul and lets go of my hand. I instinctively want to see what the matter is so I try to open my eyes. The bright light overwhelms me at first and the pain of it shoots through to the back of my skull.
‘Paul.’ I hear a voice and realise it is my own.
‘I’m right here,’ he says and I can see him. He’s crying and now I’m crying. He’s kissing me and I can see him. This is real. My eyes really are open. I’m awake.