He’s Back

I fell into an exhausted sleep. I didn’t dream. There was just endless blackness surrounding me on all sides, dragging me down to the void. Cold, alone, helpless, I let myself get pulled under. Dr Hanson was right. Sleeping was a coping mechanism. It offered me a temporary respite, an escape hatch from the heartbreaking reality. In the blackness, I didn’t have to face Claire’s death or Kieran’s injuries. I could allow myself to be vulnerable. But no one could sleep forever. When my consciousness finally resurfaced, I felt a warm hand over mine. Raising my head, I traced the hand to an arm clad in a hospital gown, then saw the gaunt and heavily bandaged face of my husband. Kieran smiled at me weakly. I was instantly awake. ‘Kieran!’ The hospital room was washed in brilliant sunlight. Kieran’s eyes were open. He blinked, twice. ‘Kieran,’ I whispered, afraid that if I raised my voice, I’d shatter the illusion. Was I in a dream? As if to answer my question, Kieran squeezed my hand gently.