“Don’t leave me, baby,” he mumbles and the darkness in his voice confuses me.

Who the hell is he talking about?

“Sy?” I shake him softly, but he’s a deep sleeper. This is the second time I’ve heard him call out in the middle of the night. “Sy,” I try again.

“Yeah?” he wakes, sleepy and confused.

“Are you okay?” I ask carefully. I don’t want to ask him who Keira is. The way he said her name has me holding off.

“Yeah, why?” he sits up and looks around the room.

“You were having a nightmare,” I tell him, watching him wipe the sweat off his brow.

“I’m fine.” Standing, he walks out of my room and to the bathroom. I’m not sure what’s happening, if I should follow him or leave him alone. Hearing the shower, I sit up and switch the bedside light on. I fight the need to go to him and the need to let him have a moment. My desire to comfort him wins out in the end.

“Can I get you anything?” I ask, walking in and watching him stand naked under the water.

“I'm good.” He looks up and I can see in his eyes something is haunting him, but I don’t push.

“Want some company?” I smile, hoping to make him feel better. We’ve shared a bed every night this week, always at my place, and for the last two nights, he’s woken shouting the same name.

“Yeah,” he smiles, liking the idea as much as I do. I strip off, and then step into the shower.

“Have I told you how fucking beautiful you are?” Leaning toward me, he kisses me as the warm water trickles over both of us.

“Yes, you have,” I reply, bringing my hands around his neck. “Have I told you how incredibly sexy you are?” I ask back. His body is amazing, making me weak just looking at it.

“Not as sexy as you.” He pushes me up against the glass.

“You want my mouth or my cock?” he asks presumptuously, running his nose along my jaw.

“What? You’re not even going to clean me first, Sunshine?” I smile and he acknowledges with a growl.

“Don’t tease me. I need you,” he complains. I relent, seeing just how on edge he is.

“You want my mouth or my pussy?” I ask the same question back, trying to give him what he needs.

“Dirty girl, you know I’ll take you any way, but right now, I need that tight cunt of yours,” he purrs, sending goose bumps to my skin.

“We don’t have a condom,” I sigh as his hand moves between my legs and trails his finger along the seam of my smooth lips.

“You know I’m clean. Haven’t been with anyone since you,” he says and as much as I want it to be my only issue, it’s not. The last thing I need right now is to get pregnant.

“I’m not on birth control,” I admit. When I found out I was pregnant, I stopped immediately and haven’t started back up again. He groans, resting his head to mine.

“I thought you were.”

“I was and now I’m not,” I tell him, hoping he doesn’t ask why.

“I wanna fuck you bare, babe. You need to sort that shit out,” he tells me, sounding unimpressed.

“I am. I’m getting the shot next month,” I laugh, watching him get pissy. I’ve been doing some research and found the shot would be best suited for me; no worrying about remembering to take a tablet the same time every day. I just have to wait for my next period. “Where’s your stash?” I step out and wrap myself in a towel.

“My wallet,” he answers, sulking like a little boy who’s had his candy stolen.

“Don’t pout,” I laugh, leaving him alone. I race back to my room to the bedside table and pull out a condom from his wallet. I’m about to close it when my eyes spy the photo hidden in the back. I know I shouldn't look and that going through his things is wrong, but the unknown is calling me to peek. Slowly, I pull it out and take in the family staring back at me. What the fuck? Sy has a family?

“What are you doing out there?” Sy calls out from the bathroom, but I’m so lost in the picture staring back at me that I don’t reply.

Sy has a wife and daughter and I had no idea. Does he still see them? Why doesn’t he talk about them?

“Holly, what the hell are you doing?” I look up and see him standing at the door, a towel wrapped around his waist. I didn’t even hear the shower turn off.

“You have a daughter?” I think I whisper the question, but I’ve never heard a whisper yelled so loud.

“What the fuck? Give that to me,” he demands, the earlier playfulness gone. I see the pain behind his eyes. That darkness that I once thought was anger now shows itself as grief.

“You had a daughter,” I correct myself, and his eyes tell me I guessed it right. He can’t hide the pain in his expression. “Keira,” I say her name, the same name he’s been speaking in his sleep. It all makes sense, now.

“How do you know?” His hands go to the doorway like he needs the balance just to stay upright.

“You call out for her at night,” I tell him in a soothing voice. The urgency to comfort him overwhelms me, but I know he won’t want that right now.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” His pained look goes back to the hard gaze I’ve come to know.

“How could you not talk about her?”

He doesn’t respond as he still holds my gaze. I can’t help the first tear that falls for him, for what he has lost. I don’t know what happened to Keira, but the pain in his voice when he calls her name deep in his sleep is raw. I hear it, feel it and standing in front of me right now, I see it. I don’t know how to comfort him. I don’t know how to get him out of this situation. When his emotions are raw, exposed to me in a way they have never been, I want to take it all back, let him have his space, but I had to push.