The nightmares didn't stop. If anything, they started coming more often, like a horror movie that never ends, waking me up in the middle of the night. One night, I had a dream that Alex was dead. The next day, I was back at that wedding, an uninvited guest sitting in the back row while everyone cheered for Elara and Lana.
When I woke up gasping for air, Elara would always be there. She would reach out to stroke my hair or rub my shoulder, her voice soft as she asked what I had dreamed about.
Every time she did that, something inside me boiled. The Elara from my dreams, the one who left me behind to hold another woman's hand, overlapped with the real one. In those moments, I hated her touch. I would shove her hands away with everything I had.
"Why... why would you do that?" I'd cry out, my voice thick with fake anger.
