Relief, relief that at least tonight I don’t have to sleep with one eye open wondering if tonight will be the night Frank goes a step too far by breaking into my room. He is doing everything he claims he has a right to.
A minute of silence, an hour. No shouting, no crashing, no Frank. Just an odd sort of stillness as I roll over, legs tangling in sheets and a man’s too-large jacket. The mattress breathes soft and unfamiliar beneath me as I wait for pain or springs to dig into me. For a moment I just lie there, holding my own breath, afraid to break the dream and risk waking. My body feels strange, liquid, uncurled. It’s almost comfortable. The suddenness of the door makes me jolt upright.
Jaxson’s frame fills the doorway, his shadow stretches long across the floor. The world shrinks back
