Chapter 46: Insane in the Membrane
VANESSA BELMONT
It took a couple of days for me to feel well enough to sit up and to talk. While I was in a coma, Nathan had hired physical therapists and masseuses to ensure my body retained its strength and flexibility. Even so, I tired easily. I’d traded my feeding tube for real food, but eating wasn’t a pleasant experience.
Nathan was there for me every time I struggled. It was nice to have a partner who cared about my well-being and took care of me without complaint.
It took a while to recount my bizarre three-month dream (or alternate reality experience ... or parallel world travel ... or insane in the membrane). Nathan listened patiently, his expression shifting between concern and fascination.
After I finished telling him everything I could remember (except the sex dream ... that was staying in a memory vault called ’nunyabizness’), my voice was hoarse.
Nathan poured me a glass of water, and I sipped it slowly, the warmth soothing my throat.
"Why would you dream about Gregory Savage?" asked Nathan. "He’s a 1940s actor who was known for film noir. Are you a fan?"
"Not really," I said. "But why would I also dream about Annabeth Saint and Grace Witherstone? I don’t know Annabeth at all. Grace and I aren’t close, but I’ve met her. And it wasn’t just seeing them—it was like I was them, experiencing everything from their point of view." I handed him the glass. "And then there’s Fiona." I handed him the water glass. "I really hate her. Like, a lot."
"Valid," said Nathan. "She did try to kill you."
"She nearly succeeded." My voice cracked as I clutched Nathan’s hand. The memory of Fiona’s awful grin right after the car crash flashed in my mind. I’d been so close to losing everything.
Nathan’s grip tightened, his thumb tracing slow, soothing circles over my knuckles. His expression was raw, pained. "Vanessa," he murmured, his voice thick. "I should have believed you. Protected you." He paused. "Loved you."