Chapter Three, In My Dreams

Rei’s Point of View

The gentle breeze rustled my sundress while I stood by his motorcycle. The sun's warmth caressed my skin, and I found solace in his company. His face was hidden behind the helmet he never seemed to remove, yet he lifted the visor to reveal his sparkling, captivating hazel eyes. I returned the gesture with a sweet smile, my blue eyes reflecting my happiness with him. Amid my chaotic life, X brought a sense of tranquility and serenity that I couldn't find elsewhere.

We stood together, silently watching the sunrise, our hands intertwined. I yearned to hear his deep, resonant voice, which always touched my soul. But in this dream, he was silent, not saying a word. X had a gift for making me smile and sharing improbable stories that held me captive. He believed I needed more laughter to rid my soul of sadness and affirm my inner and outer beauty. In my dreams, X always made me laugh and feel like the most beautiful woman in the world. I wished with all of my heart he would say something, it would give me a tiny piece of comfort to hold onto when I woke up.

I used to dread sleeping until Grace came back into my life. My dreams were nightmares, replaying how stupid and naive I was for not realizing what my life was truly like. I never felt valued or loved by Greg. I felt disposable, easily replaced and forgotten, and my children were treated the same.

But the night after Grace reappeared suddenly when I needed her the most, I started to dream about X, a mysterious biker whose face I never saw but who somehow made me feel safe and precious. My children never appeared in my dreams; it was always just X and me. My favorite dreams were the ones where I held on tightly to him as he rode through our small town so fast that it felt like we were flying, and nothing else mattered. I knew he wasn't real, just an image my mind had created based on the romance novels I read. Someone like him couldn't exist in our small town. Our paths would have crossed at one point if he did.

A banging on the door jarred me from my sleep, and I groaned, pulling the pillow over my head. When did my eldest get so responsible?

“Five more minutes, Shiloh! You don’t have to be there for another hour!” I groaned, hoping she would just be a kid and return to bed.

“Mom, I have a test today and want to be there early to review my notes with my friends. I’ve already woken up Onyx and Salem,” my loving, irritatingly responsible daughter said on the other side of the bedroom door.

That was enough to get me up and rushing downstairs. Leaving Onyx and Salem unattended in the kitchen was a disaster waiting to happen. While I cherished my sleep and the man who filled my dreams, at that moment, the thought of avoiding a day spent deep cleaning the kitchen was more pressing.

I hastily tied my long hair in a messy bun, arranged bowls and spoons on the kitchen table, and placed the cereal boxes there. When I checked the milk to see if it was still cold, I wondered if Shiloh had taken it out to be helpful or if one of my mischievous kids had left it out overnight. Thankfully, the milk was still cold when I touched it, and I felt relieved. With groceries being costly, we couldn't afford to waste anything.

I sighed as I started the coffee, watching the dark roast drip into the pot while I reflected on how blessed I was. Being a single mom to three kids wasn't easy, but they were good kids, and we made it work. Just the thought of his name made me cringe. Although Greg gave me three beautiful children, the memories with him were filled with regret.

I only understood the situation's depth when it was too late. The names I selected for my kids may have hinted at my inner turmoil and the superficial nature of my marriage. Shiloh, Onyx, Salem. Each child was born a year apart. SOS. Fuck my life back then, it was hell, and I didn’t even know it.

Surprisingly, none of my friends or family attended the wedding, leading me to believe it was my fault for years. It wasn't until after our divorce that I discovered Greg had sent messages to all of them from my phone, falsely claiming that I wanted to sever ties with them and start anew with him. He had erased the messages from my sent folder, leaving me unaware of his deceit. It was only when I unexpectedly met Grace again, at a coffee shop with my three young children, a broken-down car, and a shattered life, that I learned the truth.

Grace roared with laughter when I introduced my children to her, and I looked at my old friend in shock. Why would she laugh at little kids? But then she pointed out what the first letter of their names stood for, and I wished there was something stronger in my double-double dark roast from Tim’s. Grace kissed my head and hugged me tightly, saying she had missed me, and we’d get through this together.

I poured my morning coffee into a cup and smiled wistfully at the memory as chaos unfolded around me. With Grace's help, I was able to rebuild my life and start anew. I returned to school part-time, completed my nursing degree, and found a job at the local hospital. Although the hours were not ideal, the pay was good, and the benefits made up for working odd hours. My life revolved around my job, my kids, and trying to find time to see my friends. I didn't date, but I found solace in the company of book characters.

At 35, did I imagine my life looking like this? Three kids, divorced, and working part-time as a nurse at a hospital? To be honest, I'm not sure. I went through the motions for so long that I didn't know any other way. Grace tried to set me up on dates, but I always found an excuse not to go. Sometimes, I received compliments and unsolicited attention, but I always smiled and ran away as fast as possible. Sometimes literally, depending on the situation. I didn't want a relationship; I didn't see the point. It always ended in heartbreak anyway. Besides, I had waited for the "one," look how that turned out.

I herded my crew into the car and dropped each one off at school. I was working the evening shift, and Shiloh had promised to watch her brothers for me. I was lucky my daughter was a responsible and trustworthy kid, even if she woke me up before I was ready to say goodbye to X in my dreams. Sadly, the only man who has ever made me feel loved and wanted is just a product of my imagination.