For the past two nights, I’ve dreamed of a strange old man crawling onto my bed. Turns out, it wasn’t a dream. It was real. Even more shocking, it was all orchestrated by my husband of three years—the same man I thought adored me. All so he could satisfy his sick urges, even if it meant sending me into another man’s bed. 0In the dead of night, I felt a stranger climb into my bed. He stared hard at my face, his head getting closer and closer. I tried to turn my eyes away, but my eyelids felt as heavy as lead. He pinned my hands above my head, then buried his face against my neck, biting down. I struggled with all my strength, screaming, but found myself utterly helpless. Paralyzed, I was at his mercy, as he slipped my lace nightgown off my shoulders. “Rise and shine, sleepyhead!” “It’s time for breakfast.” Someone was gently pinching my nose. I snapped my eyes open, gasping for air. Law Callahan’s face hovered over me, full of warmth. I took in his familiar features, feeling dazed. Was it all just a dream? I sat up, my head spinning and body sore, completely exhausted like I hadn’t slept at all. “What’s wrong?” Law’s brows knit in concern, and he started massaging my temples. Looking into his worried eyes, I thought back to last night. A shiver ran down my spine. I shook my head to clear the disturbing thoughts. “Maybe I just didn’t sleep well, that’s all.” I rubbed his cheeks, playfully squishing his eyes into slits. “C’mon, aren’t we supposed to go to your mom’s for lunch?” We’d been married for three years, and Law had always treated me like we were newlyweds. With his good looks and those captivating eyes, I was drawn in, unable to resist. After breakfast, we set out, only arriving around one due to weekend traffic. “Son, what took you so long? You must be starving. I bet someone took forever getting ready,” Maxine Callahan, my mother-in-law, shot me a sharp look. She never approved of me since I was alone, without family to back me up. “Our Law was the only one from our whole community to make it to college, and a top university at that! So many folks would’ve loved to see him married to their daughter, but he picked you.” The first time I met her, she’d looked me over with a scrutinizing eye. From that moment, I knew I’d always feel unsteady without parents to support me—even with a college degree. “Mom, it’s my fault. I just wanted to sleep in a little,” Law said with a wink, easing the tension. I felt the cloud lift as I managed a small smile. Thank goodness I have Law; he’s always on my side. I see classmates on social media complaining about marriage problems, and it makes me value this quiet happiness even more. “Mom, I’m so hungry—let’s eat already.” Law, seeing her ready to say more, quickly guided her to the table. “Come on, son, have some soup. That hen stopped laying eggs, so I went ahead and cooked it up. If it can’t give eggs, what good is it?” Maxine ladled some soup for Law, casting a pointed glance at my stomach. Even Walter, my father-in-law, put his fork down in disappointment. “Mom, Ivy’s health isn’t the best. Once she’s better, we’ll have kids.” I stared at Law, unable to believe he’d take the blame for me. This wasn’t the first time Maxine had brought it up, but Law always turned the focus back on me. Last time, he’d said I wanted a few more years to enjoy life, and afterward, Maxine whispered that I was selfish. But the truth was, Law hadn’t touched me in almost three years. I couldn’t exactly have a baby on my own! 0
It was the first real argument of our marriage. He’d knelt on the ground, begging me not to tell his family about his problem. He didn’t want to lose face. I suggested seeing a doctor, but he said that if his colleagues or students found out, it would be worse than death for him. “Ivy, other than this, I’ll do anything you want. I promise I’ll treat you better than anyone else could.” He kept his promise in every way. After graduation, I stayed home, and each month, he handed over his paycheck, never letting me lift a finger around the house. He even took me on regular trips. “Ivy, we can’t let the family name end here; you know he’s our only son,” Walter finally spoke up, urging us to have a child. Under the table, Law grasped my hand, silently pleading. Swallowing my frustration, I forced a smile. “Mom, Dad, Law and I are actually planning to have a baby next year. We want a child born in the Year of the Dragon.” Seeing their blank looks, I continued my ruse. “Dragon children are supposed to be ambitious and destined for great things. They bring luck and success to the family. Just look at Uncle Earl’s son, Forrest! He’s moved to Washington, D.C., and it’s all because he’s a Dragon.” Knowing how superstitious they were, I hoped it would appease them. They often consulted “experts” for auspicious dates, especially when we got our marriage license. Sure enough, they were satisfied, nodding in approval. They even complimented me for thinking it through so well. As we left, Law hurried ahead to put his arm around my waist, but I sidestepped without making it too obvious. “What’s wrong? Are you still upset?” he asked. “Law, what’s our plan for having kids? Are you just going to keep hiding it? I’m not getting any younger—I want a baby.” Tears welled up, and I bit my lip to hold back a sob. Seeing my tears, his eyes flashed briefly with something I couldn’t place before he pulled me close, full of sympathy. “Ivy, I promise, we’ll have a child next year. We’ll…try IVF if we have to.” His tone was gentle, his eyes full of love, but the words felt ice-cold. I was devastated. I’d thought he’d finally swallow his pride and see a doctor. But instead, he’d rather put me through the grueling process of IVF than touch me. In three years, he’d only been intimate with me during the first few months of marriage, then he’d avoided it altogether. I’d tried everything, from seductive clothes to working out and dressing up, but he was unmoved. I’d grown up with my grandparents, left to fend for myself after they died, so Law had filled a void in my heart. As long as he treated me well, I’d decided I could overlook these things. 0
By the time we got back, it was dark. As I stepped off the elevator, I noticed a pile of boxes in the hallway. “Looks like we’ve got new neighbors?” Law said, following behind me. Just then, the door across from ours opened. A tall, thin man stepped out, his pale face partly hidden behind a fringe of hair. He didn’t look easy to get along with. “Hey there, I’m Jett Ryder, your new neighbor. Movers will grab these later.” He flashed a wide smile, dimples digging into his cheeks. He seemed friendlier than I’d first thought, and I mentally chided myself for judging him too soon. “Hello, we’re right across the hall. Let us know if you need anything,” I replied politely. With one hand, Law threw an arm around my shoulder and used the other to unlock our door. “Pretty-boy,” he muttered under his breath after we got inside. I shot him a glare. That night, he brought me a cup of warm milk. “There, my love. Don’t be mad anymore; drink this.” I took a sip, and he leaned in to lick the milk from my lips, but I turned away, wiping it with a napkin. “Still mad, huh?” he grumbled. “Let’s just go to bed; I have an interview tomorrow.” I pretended not to hear him, and he reluctantly turned off the lights, snuggling up beside me. But that night, I had the same nightmare. This time, I managed to open my eyes halfway, just enough to catch a glimpse of his face—a balding head, with greedy, murky eyes that leered at me, making me want to scream awake. “Stay still, sweetheart.” A stench like rotten eggs washed over me, and then everything went black. The next morning, Law had already left for work, and I was bewildered. How could I keep having such nightmares? Was it the lack of intimacy? But why would I dream about an old man? Shaking off the thought, I focused on my interview. “Hey, Sloane, what kind of questions does your HR usually ask? I’m feeling so nervous.” “Just be confident, Ivy. Talk about your design ideas; they love that stuff.” “Alright, thanks. Elevator’s here, talk to you later.” I’d majored in design in college, but right after graduation, I married Law. His parents wanted us to have kids before I went to work, but since I wasn’t getting pregnant, I’d spent three years as a housewife, letting Law take care of me. Meanwhile, my classmates were all making thousands, while I felt like I was just living off my husband. Recently, though, I’d decided to find my own path and make something of myself. I’d reached out to my best friend, Sloane Wilder, who had a top job at her company, Wilder & Kane Design Co. She’d helped get me this interview. I pressed the elevator button. “Hold on!” A pale hand shot between the doors. I looked up and felt my blood run cold. She waved her hand in front of my face. “Hey, you okay?” I pushed her hand away, staring past her down the hall. But there was nothing—no sign of him. Was I losing my mind? I could have sworn I’d just seen the man from my nightmare. Even though he wore glasses, I remembered those disgusting, squinty eyes. A surge of nausea hit me, and I turned away. What was going on? My brain was reeling. Could it just be a strange coincidence? Or was I really dealing with something paranormal? I staggered down the street, lost in thought as my phone buzzed incessantly, snapping me back. “Hello?” “Ivy, where are you? HR said you didn’t show up for your interview. What happened?” “I…something came up. By the way, does your company have a bald guy in his fifties, with glasses?” “Oh, that could be any number of people here. You know designers and bald heads! Anyway, gotta go—got called into a meeting.” I hung up, utterly bewildered. My mind was racing as I searched online, reading about dreams of strange men. Most sources said it meant “bad luck in love,” but none explained why the man in my dream looked exactly like someone I’d just seen in real life. Could he be someone from a past life? The thought chilled me as I pictured his gleaming, bald head. Maybe I should talk to a psychologist about this. Just then, I heard a voice. “Hey, what a coincidence!” Jett Ryder was there, holding a garbage bag and flashing me a friendly smile. “Hi, settling in okay?” I asked politely, keeping my distance. “Yeah, all good. You look a bit out of it. Did a late night party wear you out?” “Party?” I replied, confused. I’d gone to bed early.
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