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It was dark when I woke up. Nathan was beside me – I'd just woken him up.
In my dream it had happened again. She'd come and tried to take me back; I'd shot her and her blood had splashed...
I tried to take stock of what was real, here, now.
I was wearing little more than my underwear – shortie satin pjs. Nothing else. Not someone else's clothes.
My hands were clean. There was no blood on them.
It couldn't have been just a dream.
But Nathan didn't have a g*n – I didn't have a g*n.
I couldn't have murdered anyone.
Oh, but I did. I killed the b***h who hurt me, whose husband...
"Hey, are you all right?" Nathan's sleepy voice in my ear. "You were lying there on the toilet floor when I got there. You passed out. You've been out of it for hours."
That couldn't be right. I
