“Water on my face should be enough.” I unscrew the bottle. “You said yours is triggered by rain?” He kicks back against the closed fridge. “Yeah, but it’s been better.” He pauses. “Is yours frequent?” “No.” I swig the water, coolness rushing down my throat. “I haven’t had a nightmare in a while.” “It kicked your ass awake?” I meet his eyes. “Like a hammer to the skull.” He nods a few times. We exchange this look that reaches into me. Acknowledgement. An I understand you and I’m here. Something that I’ve never shared with Farrow face-to-face.
