Part Four: The Family
Christabel had a nightmare.
Not about her mother.
About Damien.
About losing him.
And she woke up screaming.
---
The dream started like a memory.
She was in the gallery. The night they met. He was walking toward her. His eyes were dark. His hands were steady. His presence filled the room.
But something was wrong.
He wasn't looking at her.
He was looking through her.
Like she wasn't there.
"Damien," she called.
He didn't answer.
"Damien!"
He kept walking.
Past her. Through her. Away from her.
---
She tried to follow.
But her feet wouldn't move.
They were stuck to the floor.
The gallery was dissolving.
The walls were crumbling.
The people were disappearing.
And Damien was getting farther away.
"Please," she begged. "Please don't leave me."
He didn't turn around.
He didn't look back.
He just kept walking.
Until he was gone.
---
She woke up screaming.
The sound tore through the penthouse.
Loud. Raw. Terrifying.
Damien was awake in an instant.
"Christabel!"
She was sitting up. Her hands were clutching the sheets. Her face was pale. Her eyes were wild.
"I saw you," she gasped.
"Saw me where?"
"In the dream. You were leaving. You wouldn't look at me. You wouldn't stop."
"I'm not going anywhere."
"You were walking away."
"I'm right here."
She touched his face.
Her hands were shaking.
"You're here."
"I'm here."
"You're not leaving?"
"I'm never leaving."
---
Lena started crying.
The sound drifted from the nursery.
Christabel flinched.
"I woke her up."
"She's okay."
"I scared her."
"She's okay."
He took her hand.
"Breathe."
"I can't."
"Breathe with me."
---
He pulled her close.
His chest against her back.
His hand on her heart.
"Breathe in."
She breathed in.
"Breathe out."
She breathed out.
"Again."
They breathed together.
Slowly. Steadily.
The panic began to fade.
---
Lena was still crying.
Christabel stood.
Walked to the nursery.
Lifted her daughter from the crib.
"I'm sorry, baby," she whispered. "Mommy had a bad dream."
Lena cried.
"I know. It was loud. It was scary. But it wasn't real."
Lena grabbed her finger.
Held on tight.
"Daddy isn't going anywhere. Daddy is right here."
---
Damien appeared in the doorway.
"She's awake," he said.
"She's scared."
"I'll make a bottle."
"She wants to nurse."
He walked to her.
Sat on the floor beside the rocking chair.
"Tell me about the dream."
"It was the gallery. The night we met."
"What happened?"
"You walked past me. Like I wasn't there. Like I didn't exist."
---
He was quiet for a moment.
"That's not going to happen."
"How do you know?"
"Because I've been walking toward you since the moment I saw you."
She looked at him.
"I'm afraid."
"Of what?"
"Of losing you."
---
He took her hand.
"You're not going to lose me."
"You don't know that."
"I know that I love you. I know that I've loved you since the night we met. I know that I will love you until the day I die."
"That's a long time."
"It's not long enough."
---
Lena finished nursing.
Fell asleep against Christabel's chest.
"She's out," Christabel said.
"She's perfect."
"She's ours."
Damien stood.
Took Lena from her arms.
Laid her in the crib.
Then he walked back to Christabel.
Took her hand.
"Come with me."
"Where?"
"The kitchen."
---
He made tea.
Not coffee. Tea.
The kind she used to drink before everything changed.
The kind that reminded her of quiet mornings and simpler times.
"You're staring," she said.
"I'm admiring."
"Same thing."
"Different intention."
---
He set a cup in front of her.
She wrapped her hands around it.
The warmth seeped into her fingers.
"I haven't had tea in years."
"I know."
"You remembered."
"I remember everything."
---
She took a sip.
It was perfect.
"I love you," she said.
"I know."
"I love you in ways I didn't know I was capable of."
He touched her face.
"I know. Because I love you the same way."
---
They sat in silence.
The city was dark.
The tea was warm.
"I've been thinking about therapy," Christabel said.
"You're already in therapy."
"I want to go more often."
"Why?"
"Because I need to understand why I'm so afraid."
---
He took her hand.
"You're afraid because you have something to lose."
"I've always had something to lose."
"Not like this." He looked at her. "Not Lena. Not me. Not the life we've built."
"I know."
"That's why you're afraid."
"That's why I need help."
---
The next morning, Christabel called Dr. Reid.
"I need to increase our sessions."
"Is everything okay?"
"I had a nightmare."
"About what?"
"About losing Damien."
---
Dr. Reid was quiet for a moment.
"That's not about losing Damien."
"What is it about?"
"About losing yourself."
---
The session was scheduled for that afternoon.
Christabel went alone.
Damien stayed with Lena.
The office was the same. The couch was the same. Dr. Reid was the same.
But Christabel was different.
She was tired.
She was scared.
She was ready.
---
"Tell me about the nightmare," Dr. Reid said.
"I was in the gallery. The night we met. Damien walked past me. Like I wasn't there."
"And how did that make you feel?"
"Invisible."
"Have you felt that way before?"
Christabel was quiet for a moment.
"Yes."
"When?"
"With my mother."
---
Dr. Reid leaned forward.
"Tell me about that."
"My mother used to look through me. Like I wasn't there. Like I didn't matter."
"And now you're afraid Damien will do the same?"
"I'm afraid everyone will."
---
The session lasted an hour.
Christabel cried.
Dr. Reid listened.
When it was over, Christabel walked to the car.
Damien was waiting.
"How was it?"
"Hard."
"Did it help?"
"I don't know."
---
That night, Christabel put Lena to bed.
Not Damien. Her.
She read her daughter a story. Not a baby book. A real story. One of her favorites.
"There was a woman who was afraid of being invisible," she read. "But she learned that she was never invisible to the people who loved her."
Lena stared at her.
"Bah," she said.
"That's right," Christabel said. "Bah."
---
Damien was in the doorway.
"She said it again."
"She said it to me."
"She said it to both of us."
She closed the book.
Set it on the nightstand.
"She's going to be seen."
"She's going to be just like you."
"God help the world."
"God help anyone who tries to look through her."
---
They stood over the crib together.
Lena was asleep. Her tiny chest rose and fell.
"I'm going to be okay," Christabel said.
"You already are."
"I'm going to be better."
"You're already better."
"I'm going to be myself again."
He looked at her.
"You never stopped being yourself. You just forgot."
"And now?"
"Now you're remembering."