“<…>When I was done speaking I felt his body had gone still again, stone still.
Then he asked quietly, "Nightmare?"
"Nightmare," I replied firmly.
Ty didn't move.
By a miracle, I held it together.
Then he moved but it was to rest his chin on my shoulder and I closed my eyes because I needed him to go, go, go so I could fall apart again on my own.
Then he said, "Your nightmare, mama, was my dream."
My heart clenched.
He kept going. "Never had a home until you gave me one."
My breath started sticking.
"Never had anyone give to me the way you gave to me."
My breath stopped sticking and clogged.
"Never thought of findin' a woman who I wanted to have my baby."
"Never had light in my life, never, not once, I lived wild but I didn't burn bright until you shined your light on me."
"Whacked, fuckin' insane, but, at night, you curled in front of me, didn't mind I did that time that wasn't mine 'cause it meant I walked out to you."
He had to stop. He had to.
"Your nightmare," he whispered, turned his head and against my neck he finished, "my dream."<…>”