My mind races to understand, my head still high on the pixie dust, holding me somewhere between now and the past. But all thoughts stop as he takes another step forward until his thighs meet the edge of the bed. Unable to speak, I lay there and take in all he’s just said. An apology? An olive branch? Am I supposed to apologize in return? Because yes, he hurt me. More than he knows. But… I hurt him, too. I know I did. I can accept that now, as the memories beg to surface in the back of my mind. Problem is, I’ve been holding on so long to the pain, I don’t know how I’ll ever let it go.

Leaning in, he brushes a stray strand of hair behind my ear, his thumb gently caressing across the curve of my chin before coming to rest on my bottom lip.

On instinct, my tongue sweeps across where he just touched me. I taste the spell working before I can tell myself to stop. Before I can tell myself that I don’t want anymore. But the thing about Pixie Dust is once you get a taste, once the magic starts to work, you’ll always crave more.

He holds out his thumb to me and like a fiend, I suck it into my mouth. I’ve gotten a small glimpse of what I’ve been running from, what I lost, there is no going back now.

The only way to stop the pain is by embracing it. By going back into the past and hopefully making it out on the other side.

He pulls his finger from my mouth slowly and I hear him moan. My name seductively falls from his lips as I stare longingly up into his eyes. He sucks his own thumb back into his mouth, taking some of the Pixie Dust himself and I watch deliriously as heat settles between my legs and his eyes fill with lust.

“Sleep,” he whispers. I give in instantly to his command and lean my body gently back against the pillows. “I’ll be waiting, always waiting.”

I struggle with sleep. Tossing and turning. Unable to accept the fact that he expects me to dream about him while he is standing there watching.

For the first time in years my body longs for him. Vibrates with need for him. It’s not just the Pixie Dust. It’s the truth. The realization that we’ve both been so wrong, and I’m not sure I can face the next part without him by my side.

It calls to me, the truth, beckoning me closer. A dream so beautiful it becomes a nightmare in the end.

I groan out in frustration, grabbing the pillow and roughly turning on my side before looking his way and catching a slight smile.