to...to make things a little better for you, but I managed to make them even worse.”
“It’s fine. It was just a...passing episode. I’m glad you’re okay.”
He was silent for a moment. I heard him breathing on the other end. Then, “Thanks.”
“What happened? I mean, is everything all right at work?”
“Yeah. We ran into some trouble, but it’s all fine now.”
“Was it...were you in danger or anything?”
“Not seriously.” I could tell from his voice that he was being careful to phrase things exactly right—probably so I wouldn’t be upset. “There was the potential, but it didn’t come to anything.”
“What happened?”
“There was a situation with a potential informant. I can’t give you any details. I’m sorry.”
“That’s okay,” I said immediately. It was probably better not to have too much information, since the world he worked in was too close to the world that had hurt me so irrevocably. “I understand. I’m glad you’re okay.”
I’d said that before, so I don’t know why I was saying it again.
“I’m okay, Diana. I promise.”
I heard something in the background of the call, and it sounded like he was walking. “Where are you now?”
“I’m just getting into my car to head home.”
“Oh. Okay. I’ll let you go.”
“You don’t have to—” he began, before he broke off and restarted. “Can I call you back in about an hour? I’ve got to make a couple of work calls on my way home, and then I need a shower and to grab something to eat. Will you still be awake in an hour?”
“Yeah. Yeah, that’s fine. I won’t be asleep.”
The panic had subsided when I hung up, so I took a shower, put on my pajamas, and got ready for bed.
I was flipping channels on the TV—I slept with the TV on all night now, since the silence was simply too oppressive—when Gideon called back.
“Hey,” he said. “You weren’t asleep yet, were you?”
“No. I’m awake. I never really sleep anymore.” I said it without thinking, since it was simply a fact of my existence, one I’d lived with for the last three months.
It wasn’t until I heard the silence on the other end that I realized Gideon wouldn’t have any way of knowing that before.
“What do you mean?” he asked slowly.
“Nothing. It’s no big deal. It’s just hard for me to sleep.”
“Haven’t they worked with you on that?”
“Yeah. Of course. They’ve given me relaxation techniques and everything. It’s just not as easy as that.” He didn’t answer, and it felt like he was waiting for more, so I added, “It’s just hard when you’re...you’re terrified to close your eyes.”
I heard him take a breath, and it made what I’d said feel even worse, since I could sense how he’d reacted to it. “Do you have nightmares?”
“Yeah. But...” I stopped. No use to say it. No use to make him feel even worse.
“But what?”
“But I have them when I close my eyes, whether I’m asleep or not.”
He didn’t answer immediately. When he did it was nothing more than a low mutter. “Shit.”
We both just stayed on the line, breathing.
“Anyway, did you get anything to eat?” I asked at last, pitching my voice in a way that made it clear we needed to change the subject.
“Yeah,” he said immediately, sounding like himself again. “I got a burger on the way home.”
“You shouldn’t eat too many burgers.”
“How do you know I eat a lot of burgers?”
“Just a guess. But you do, don’t you?”
“Yeah.”
“See, a salad wouldn’t hurt you occasionally.”
He chuckled. “Even if I liked them, salads are a little challenging to eat in the car.”
“Well, don’t eat them in the car.”
“Half the time, it’s the only way to fit in a meal.” Before I could respond to this, he asked, “What did they serve for dinner there tonight?”
“Oh, you would have liked it. Shrimp and steak.”
“Damn. It was the wrong day to miss.”
I smiled at his tone and adjusted so I
“It’s fine. It was just a...passing episode. I’m glad you’re okay.”
He was silent for a moment. I heard him breathing on the other end. Then, “Thanks.”
“What happened? I mean, is everything all right at work?”
“Yeah. We ran into some trouble, but it’s all fine now.”
“Was it...were you in danger or anything?”
“Not seriously.” I could tell from his voice that he was being careful to phrase things exactly right—probably so I wouldn’t be upset. “There was the potential, but it didn’t come to anything.”
“What happened?”
“There was a situation with a potential informant. I can’t give you any details. I’m sorry.”
“That’s okay,” I said immediately. It was probably better not to have too much information, since the world he worked in was too close to the world that had hurt me so irrevocably. “I understand. I’m glad you’re okay.”
I’d said that before, so I don’t know why I was saying it again.
“I’m okay, Diana. I promise.”
I heard something in the background of the call, and it sounded like he was walking. “Where are you now?”
“I’m just getting into my car to head home.”
“Oh. Okay. I’ll let you go.”
“You don’t have to—” he began, before he broke off and restarted. “Can I call you back in about an hour? I’ve got to make a couple of work calls on my way home, and then I need a shower and to grab something to eat. Will you still be awake in an hour?”
“Yeah. Yeah, that’s fine. I won’t be asleep.”
The panic had subsided when I hung up, so I took a shower, put on my pajamas, and got ready for bed.
I was flipping channels on the TV—I slept with the TV on all night now, since the silence was simply too oppressive—when Gideon called back.
“Hey,” he said. “You weren’t asleep yet, were you?”
“No. I’m awake. I never really sleep anymore.” I said it without thinking, since it was simply a fact of my existence, one I’d lived with for the last three months.
It wasn’t until I heard the silence on the other end that I realized Gideon wouldn’t have any way of knowing that before.
“What do you mean?” he asked slowly.
“Nothing. It’s no big deal. It’s just hard for me to sleep.”
“Haven’t they worked with you on that?”
“Yeah. Of course. They’ve given me relaxation techniques and everything. It’s just not as easy as that.” He didn’t answer, and it felt like he was waiting for more, so I added, “It’s just hard when you’re...you’re terrified to close your eyes.”
I heard him take a breath, and it made what I’d said feel even worse, since I could sense how he’d reacted to it. “Do you have nightmares?”
“Yeah. But...” I stopped. No use to say it. No use to make him feel even worse.
“But what?”
“But I have them when I close my eyes, whether I’m asleep or not.”
He didn’t answer immediately. When he did it was nothing more than a low mutter. “Shit.”
We both just stayed on the line, breathing.
“Anyway, did you get anything to eat?” I asked at last, pitching my voice in a way that made it clear we needed to change the subject.
“Yeah,” he said immediately, sounding like himself again. “I got a burger on the way home.”
“You shouldn’t eat too many burgers.”
“How do you know I eat a lot of burgers?”
“Just a guess. But you do, don’t you?”
“Yeah.”
“See, a salad wouldn’t hurt you occasionally.”
He chuckled. “Even if I liked them, salads are a little challenging to eat in the car.”
“Well, don’t eat them in the car.”
“Half the time, it’s the only way to fit in a meal.” Before I could respond to this, he asked, “What did they serve for dinner there tonight?”
“Oh, you would have liked it. Shrimp and steak.”
“Damn. It was the wrong day to miss.”
I smiled at his tone and adjusted so I
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