05 Recurring Dreams

05

Recurring Dreams

“Patricia, eat up,” Tessy urged, nudging her half-eaten food into Patricia's bowl.

Patricia wrinkled her nose. “Aren’t you going to eat?”

“I’m full,” Tessy replied quickly, though her voice was unsteady. Her vision swam, her head began to throb, and a strange weight settled in her chest. “We have to…” Her words trailed off as pain lanced through her skull, sharp and sudden.

Everything around her faded, Patricia’s voice, the dingy kitchen, even the smell of watery beans. In a blink, Tessy was elsewhere.

She gasped, spinning around. The orphanage. The grey, moldy walls, the cold dirt ground, the echoing chaos of children’s voices, it was all too familiar, yet far away. A large crowd of children circled something in the distance. Her heartbeat spiked.

“Patricia?” she called, breathless.

A small girl shuffled past. Tessy spun and grabbed her shoulder. The face was unmistakable, young Patricia, her cheeks gaunt and eyes dim with tears.

“Where’s Bruno?” Tessy asked, kneeling in front of her.

Patricia didn’t speak. She only turned her head towards the distant circle. Tessy’s stomach dropped.

Suddenly, a blinding pain tore through her head. She doubled over, gasping. When she looked up again, Patricia was gone.

“No, no, no,” she whispered. She ran toward the crowd, forcing her way through. And there he was, Bruno. Tied to a wooden cross, crying out in pain as one of the sisters lashed his back with a belt, each stroke crueler than the last.

“Stop it!” Tessy screamed, shoving herself between the crowd and the scene. She rushed forward, grabbing the sister’s arm mid-swing. “Why are you hurting him? Please, stop!”

“Get off me, you devil.”

The sister flung her off without hesitation. Tessy crashed to the ground, breath knocked from her lungs. A blinding pain lashed through her back and a scream tore into the air.

And then... the pain. The sound. The rush of darkness.

“Tessy! Tessy!”

Her eyes flew open, sweat trickling down her temples. She was no longer at the orphanage. She was at the café breakroom, her coworker Alex crouched beside her.

“It’s okay,” Alex said gently, brushing damp strands from Tessy’s face. “You’re safe. Breathe with me, alright? In and out.”

Tessy took a shaky breath, then another, finally settling into a rhythm.

“Better?” Alex asked after a minute.

“Yeah,” Tessy whispered, offering a faint smile. “It’s just a dream. I’m used to them. It’s the waking up that’s hard.”

Alex watched her for a moment, worry still etched into her features. But then she gave a short nod and stood.

“The manager is back, chatting with the bookshop owner,” she said. “If he comes in and sees us slacking, he’ll bite our heads off. Let’s get back out there.”

Tessy nodded, dragging herself to her feet. She grabbed her order book and followed Alex back into the main café floor.

They worked table to table, handling a growing crowd. While prepping an order behind the counter, Alex leaned closer.

“You said you saw a doctor about those dreams. What did they say?”

Tessy’s hands stilled for a moment. The soft clatter of dishes and clinks of spoons filled the silence before she finally replied.

“I didn’t really go,” she admitted. “I searched online... found someone’s post on Quora. Their symptoms were just like mine. I bought the meds they mentioned.”

Alex nearly dropped her plate. “Tessy! You can’t just self-medicate like that. You need a real doctor.”

“I know,” Tessy muttered. “I just… I’m saving up. I can’t afford it right now.”

Alex’s face softened. “Okay. I get it. But just… be careful, alright?”

A sharp bang on the kitchen door startled them both. The manager’s voice cut through, stern and irritated. “What are you girls doing in there?! We’re swamped!”

Tessy snatched up her tray. “I’m on it!”

By the time her shift ended, Tessy was exhausted. Her muscles ached, her apron was stained, and her head was pounding again. Alex had dashed off earlier for an errand she refused to explain, leaving Tessy to drag herself out alone, her bag slung over one shoulder.

But then... something shifted.

She froze.

The scent. It hit her before her eyes found him, warm, rich, expensive. Her now favorite scent, even though she would never admit it out aloud.

Her head snapped to the side.

Ryan.

He leaned casually against the wall of a building, arms folded, watching her like she was the only person on the street. His hair was pulled into a neat ponytail, his shirt rolled at the sleeves. Still in that grey T-shirt that clung to him in all the right ways.

Whew, He has a hot body… no, Tessy, where are your thoughts going? Focus. Not the time to mentally drool.

She stiffened, fingers tightening around her bag strap. Why did he always look like a Greek god in a cologne ad?

“You.. what are you doing here?” She asked, her voice cracking slightly.

“Hey,” he greeted, pushing off the car and closing the distance between them. His voice was low and smooth, but the way he looked at her like she was something he wanted to unravel, made her throat dry. Like a predator stalking its prey.

Tessy squared her shoulders. No way was she letting him read her nerves. Guys like him get cocky and arrogant when they realize how much their presence affects you.

“How did you find me?”

“Patricia helped,” Ryan said easily. Then, without asking, he took the bag off her shoulder. “Let me help with that.”

She blinked, surprised. “Thanks.”

They started walking side by side, their steps in sync.

“How was work?” he asked, trying to strike up a conversation, to fill up the growing silence. The silence wasn't awkward. It was charged.

“Hectic,” Tessy said honestly. “Too many customers, not enough staff. But more work means more tips.”

Ryan frowned. “So you’d rather suffer for more money?”

She rolled her eyes. “Some of us don’t have luxury on speed dial, Your Highness.”

That shut him up. His jaw clenched slightly, and Tessy instantly regretted it. Guilt nipped at her.

He’s trying, Tessy. Don’t be mean.

“…Sorry,” she muttered.

But Ryan didn’t seem to mind. He glanced at her. “It’s fine.”

An awkward pause. Then Tessy blurted, “So… your girlfriend left?”

Ryan raised a brow. “Girlfriend?”

“Yeah, you two were being lovey dovey earlier.”

He stilled, then broke into a laughter, a deep, warm, slightly cocky laugh that made her stomach flutter. “Ronda? No way. She’s not my girlfriend. She’s… obsessed, annoying, and definitely not my type. She does too much.”

Tessy tilted her head. “Really? You seemed like a match. She’s pretty, classy…”

“And not the one I want,” Ryan said, cutting her off, his voice edged with finality.

She shivered. “Are you cold?” he asked, already shrugging off his jacket. Before she could respond, he slipped it around her shoulders.

Warm. Soft. Expensive. It smelled just like him, cedarwood, spice, and something dangerously addictive. A flicker of warmth bloomed in her chest.

“Thanks,” she murmured. But she is still yet to figure out whether it's the cold or the way he made his point clear that made her shivered.

They were just a few steps from home when a familiar voice broke through the air.

“What is he doing here?”

Tessy froze. Her eyes darted to the sidewalk. Bruno. Of course. She’d forgotten he always met her after work. It was their thing. A routine.

“Bruno!”

She called, forcing a smile. “Ryan was just walking me back.”

Bruno’s gaze flicked to their joined hands, because when Ryan heard Bruno’s voice, he had reached out and laced his fingers through hers. Possessive. Intentional. Gently but firmly.

Tessy’s breath hitched at the contact.

Bruno’s jaw tightened.

Tessy ignored the heavy tension between them. “We can wa

lk home together. It's just a few distances left.” she said brightly, pretending not to notice that both boys were already locked in a silent battle.