ailey stares at him with warm eyes and a smile. he’s sleeping. she touches his top lip with her index finger, ever so gently. he doesn’t move. she traces the boundaries of his lips, trying not to jar him awake. he sighs, but doesn’t open his eyes. she removes her hand and leans in, careful not to stir the bed. her kiss, delicate, but sweet is what moves him to open his eyes. when he does, all he sees is her face. smiling. her hair shining in the new sunlight streaming in from the upper window. she’s wearing her glasses, yet he can see her sharp greenish-blue eyes peering back at him. is that longing he sees? or is it pure love? he blinks, but quickly looks back at her, trying not to lose her image. “it’s time to wake up, darling,” she says. then suddenly, he opens his eyes and sees an empty room, with an even emptier bed. 

“it’s like she’s really there, doc. i see her, just as i see you now, but i don’t want it to go away,” bren recounts to his therapist, “we’re not as it was, it’s different. we’re married in these dreams and it’s always the same. she’s waking me up every morning, right on time, so i can get up and get ready for work. i never set my alarm anymore. she never fails.”