Adrift 3: Rising (Adrift Series) Read Free Page B

when he awoke, the nightmares began in earnest.
    “Do you want to talk about it?”
    Dan sighed softly. What, exactly, could he say? That the river felt every bit as real as the wet pillow beneath his head? That he felt a growing certainty that he would one day wake to discover that he had left his sanity behind? That he feared that the river was reality, and Elaine was the dream?
    Before he could gather a response, he heard a soft click .
    Warm light spilled from the small lamp on Elaine’s side of the bed.
    He squinted; waiting for his eyes to adjust, and shook his head. When he dared to look, he saw Elaine’s beautiful face marked by something that ran a lot deeper than mere concern. She looked scared. He wondered how long she had been listening to him sleep; what he might have unconsciously mumbled as the terror of the nightmare overwhelmed him.
    “Talking won’t help,” he said at last.
    “It might.”
    He shook his head again, more firmly this time.
    “I just want to forget it, El. It will get better with time, I know it will—”
    “Seems like it’s getting worse with time, Dan, not better,” Elaine interrupted, her tone hardening.
    Dan snapped his mouth shut. Elaine didn’t often deal in bullshit. She had a way of cutting straight to the heart of a problem, and judging by her tone, his repeated claims that things would ‘settle down’ with time weren’t going to wash anymore. He felt a surge of anxiety, deep in his chest. Ever since waking in the hospital, he had wanted to run from the mental instability he felt; to hide from the world. Hell, he hadn’t even left the apartment in the six months since the attack.
    Elaine had supported him in retreating from the world because he had told her that he was getting better slowly, but the constant nightmares were making him a liar, throwing an unforgiving spotlight on his words. It was starting to feel like he might never leave the safety of their home ever again. If Elaine’s stern expression was anything to go by, she had decided that enough was enough: the time had come for her fiancé to confront his problems head-on.
    That idea petrified him.
    Tears stung his eyes.
    “The doctors said it would take time for my medication to—” he began to say weakly, but Elaine cut him short with a look.
    “Two months, babe,” she said, clearly making an effort to blunt the cutting edge of her words. “They said it could take two months for the medication to start working fully. It’s been six.”
    He nodded miserably, and felt a treacherous tear spill across his cheek.
    “I’m worried about you.” She rubbed the tear away gently with her thumb. “I love you.”
    Dan sniffed. The sudden kindness in her tone made him feel like sobbing uncontrollably.
    Elaine grabbed his shoulders, pulling him into a fierce hug.
    “It’s okay, babe,” she whispered. “I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere, no matter what. We’ll get through this together, okay? I promise. I know you can do it.”
    Dan returned her embrace, burying his face in her hair, and nodded.
    Elaine pulled back, looking directly into his eyes.
    “Will you talk to someone? Please? If not me, then…”
    Elaine trailed off. She didn’t need to say it aloud.
    Therapy .
    It wasn’t the first time Elaine had floated the idea, but her tone was firmer now. More insistent.
    Dan had received some counselling immediately following the attack; six free sessions provided by the National Health Service, with an overworked therapist who had reluctantly agreed to home visits. Those sessions had been a blur, and had been focused on general methods for coping with post-traumatic stress. Dan had nodded and mumbled his way through them, and hadn’t ever mentioned that his mind felt like it was slowly coming apart. He hadn’t mentioned the black river. The last thing he had wanted to do—then or now—was to face it.
    He searched for a response, but found none. The agoraphobia which had claimed him since the