"What were you doing outside?" he asked gently.
"I couldn't sleep, so I stepped out for a smoke," I replied.
"Nightmare?" he inquired. I didn’t need to answer; he knew exactly what I was going through. I didn’t want him to feel guilty, but he understood that was precisely why I had gone downstairs.
He didn't press for details about the nightmare; I sensed he didn't really want to know. I could feel the guilt radiating from him after what had happened the day before, and I didn't want to add to his burden. He had been through enough, and I recognized it wasn’t his fault that he had changed so dramatically. I took his hand in mine and placed it over my chest, near my bullet wound, to prevent him from inadvertently causing me any pain.
Before long, there was a knock at the door, and Axel
