I wake up to the sound of someone's ragged breathing echoing in the room. Moving my head to the side, I flutter open my completely exhausted eyes and notice someone sitting on the other side of the bed. I blink a few times to clear my vision, letting my mind register that it's Christopher. What is he doing? Why is he awake? I frown and focus my vision entirely on him. Apparently, from here it seems like he is a bit tensed. What happened to him? My eyes then fall on the muscles flexing on his back, he is sitting at the edge, shirtless, and I stare at his back in awe of how perfectly build his body is. He has his head facing the ground with his hands clutching the sheets on either side. His heavy panting is distinctly audible to me.

I sit up and accidentally look down to find my chest covered with flaring red hickeys. I bite my lip, noticing that I am wearing only a tank top and my favorite pink panties. Instantly forgetting about Christopher's tensed figure, a blush creeps over my face as I realize how wild the last night was. It's even hard for me to remember how many orgasms I had in a single night. Fuck! I clutch my legs tightly, recollecting everything that Christopher did to me. It's insane to think that just a simple thought about him could lead to crazy fireworks erupting all over my body. I don't know if it's because of Christopher or what, but it definitely appears like I am becoming a sex addict.

I have seen in the past few days that the only way we choose to end all our discussions is through having mind-blowing sex. And I could say this time was the best out of all. I don't know if it's a good thing or not. I guess I should start thinking about it.

I remember we barely got any time to relax as we were going for back-to-back rounds. Finally, we had to shower separately to get a break in our chain. Later we changed the sheets that were pretty much ruined by us and eventually decided to catch some sleep. Fuck! I still feel so hazy and fucking tired.

When my eyes are about to close again without realizing it, Christopher's rough breathing brings me back here to look at him. I frown and move towards him. The nerves in his arms instantly tense with my movement, indicating to me that something was not right with him. Getting closer to him, I gently place my hand over his shoulder to get his attention. But strangely, in response to my touch, he flinches away from me, making me look at him in astonishment.

"Christopher? What happened?" I ask him, looking worried.

There is a weird kind of horror floating in his eyes when he looks at me. It's strange to see him look at me like that. As if he is unable to recognize me. I watch thick beads of sweat dripping from his forehead with his eyes turning red as he scrutinizes my face.

"Nicole?" He drops a relieved sigh.

"Yes, it's me. What happened? Why are you awake?"

His gaze flickers over my face in terror as I look at his heaving chest. "Nothing. You go back to sleep. I am fine." He states immediately, turning his head to avoid my gaze. I look back at his face and find his jaw clenching in distress. Something is surely wrong with him, but I don't know what it is. Why does he look so disturbed? Why is he behaving like this? Before I could think of asking him anything, he picks his shirt and begins to walk towards the door. At that moment my gaze shifts towards the wall clock and I see it to be past midnight.

Where the hell is he going in the middle of the night?

"Wait, Christopher..." I call, but Christopher simply walks out without paying attention to me. What the hell happened to him? Why is he acting so strange?

I jump out of the bed and quickly get dressed, running behind him. I see him already walking towards the main door when I reach downstairs. Oh god! What the hell is he doing?

"Christopher? Where are you going?" I scream, but he doesn't care to answer as he walks out of the entrance. What the fuck? Is he seriously going out? I put on a sweater, knowing that the weather would be certainly chilly, and sprint out to follow. I've never been outside late in the night, so this is the first time that I am experiencing such a drastic dip in the temperature. I pull my sweater closer and rub my palms to make them warm.

By now Christopher is walking on the road, and I run hurriedly to catch up with him. The road is empty with only street lights glowing. They seem to be the only source diminishing the darkness surrounding us. Christopher is simply wearing his shirt, and The thought worries me that he might catch a cold in this weather. I don't know where Christopher is going? And what happened to him suddenly? He doesn't bother to take a look at me, despite having me walking right next to him. Why is he ignoring me? He keeps walking with a grim expression on his face. It astonishes me when after some time I suddenly find his eyes glancing randomly here and there as if he is trying to look for something. It seems like he is desperate to find that thing which he is looking for. What is he searching for? He keeps looking around as he walks further.

I don't know how long it would have been until Christopher's hunting comes to an end. His shoulders sag as he takes a deep breath. The entire time I have been looking at Christopher, so I have no clue about where we are right now. I slowly turn my head and look in the direction of his vision and to my surprise I see a magnificent church standing tall in front of us. The neighborhood doesn't appear to be familiar to me, and it seems like we have come a long way because I have never seen any church nearby in our area.

Its strong exterior is built of red stones, making it look more beautiful, and the shining cross situated on the top adds a hint of elegance to its already existing radiance. I turn towards Christopher and find him still staring at the church. From his face, it looks like he found what he was looking for. So was he searching for the church? Why would he want to come to a church? He never looked like one who believed in god. I stare at him in bafflement still trying to decipher what's going in his mind when without uttering a word he bends over to settle down on the grass in which we are standing. He props his legs up as he puts his arms around his knees. I gawk at him in disbelief for a minute and then simply take the place next to him, knowing that I don't have any other alternative to do.

The large oak door at the entrance of the church is wide open, letting us have a full view of the inside. I didn't know that churches remain open at night. The white stone walls seem to reflect the glide corresponding to the cold marble floor as I scan it from here. I hug my knees tightly as a cool blow coming from the hall hits my body.

It feels like my eyes wouldn't get tired of taking in the enchanting and breathtaking beauty of this building ever. Even the minute details of its fantastic architecture and the exquisite frescoes covering the ceilings and the walls are gracefully visible from here. The faint smell of burned incense mixes in the air as a haze of mist covers the stained glass windows. I've never been a regular visitor of the church, but I could say that I am surely not an atheist. For that simple reason, I never doubted the existence of God. When I was a kid, my mother used to tell me the tales of Christ's sacrifice, which indeed fascinated me to know more about spirituality. She used to say that believing in God gave purpose to our lives, and I even used to trust her words back then. But over a period of time it changed. My perception was highly impacted by that one incident that happened years ago. And the man behind it was my father. It all changed because of my father.

I see the polished wooden pews arranged systematically in rows. And an exquisite statue of Jesus on the crucifix strikes to my eyes from the altar. Candles are burning in front of it, their gleam resembles to enlighten the environment with refreshing energy. And it seems to bring an immeasurable sense of tranquility here to my heart.

We gaze at the glorious sight in front of us. An overwhelming inner harmony takes over me with a peaceful silence, enveloping us as I stare at the church. After a moment, I look back to Christopher and observe him still watching at the building, making no moment, and it seems like he isn't even willing to blink his eyes. It started to worry me now that he hasn't spoken a word to me since we left the house. I place my hand over his arm, furrowing my eyebrows in concern, and look at him.

"Please, Christopher. Say something." I urge softly.

He turns his head towards me, and I see nothing but a dark cloud of emptiness in his eyes.

"Please?" I whisper.

He sighs and closes his eyes as I wait for him to answer. "It's the nightmares." He lets out in a low tone, glancing at me sadly.

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

I remember him talking about the nightmares the night when we were at the beach. And I even try to reminisce about the time when I witnessed it happening to him with my own eyes. It was the first night when he stayed with me in my room back at my house. He slept on the chair beside my bed and woke up in the middle of the night, turning up just as terrified as he was looking moments ago. He suffered it also on the night when he came drunk home. And I remember that both the times he strangely avoided talking about it.

"Is it because of that accident?" I ask him after he ignores my first question.

He exhales slowly in defeat and pinches the bridge of his nose, looking utterly vexed. "I don't know... but they started to trouble me after I recovered."

"What kind of nightmares do you get?" I study his face for a minute and then ask.

"They are all different but at the same time similar, pointing to the same thing." He turns his head towards his front and clenches his jaw. "Pointing to the same fucking thing."

"What's that thing?"

"Questioning my fucking identity." He directs his furious gaze at me and denotes. There is a rise in the intensity of his tone as he speaks abruptly, letting out his pent-up frustration. "It feels like they tend to make me doubt my existence, Cole."

"What does that mean?" I ask with growing concern evident in my expression as it becomes hard for me to comprehend his words. "What do you see in them?"

"It's hard to explain, Cole. I don't know if anyone would believe it or not. It...It might sound insane to you." He stutters nervously as the anger in his tone slowly subsides.

"No, it wouldn't. Tell me." I offer him a small smile and squeeze his arm, making an attempt to boost his confidence.

Panic takes over the chiseled features of his face as sadness dooms upon him. He takes a sharp intake of breath, trying to compose himself as he says. "Sometimes I see myself in a dark room. A dark room having no door to escape." He looks at me with grave horror. "Suddenly I find myself getting suffocated in that room, so I...I start searching for a way out."

He clutches my hand tightly, appearing terrified as he reminisces his nightmare. "When I look around, I don't see anything...except for a mirror illuminating in one of its corners. I run towards it to find a way out of that horrible room. But when I reach in front of it...What I see is....I see myself standing before it without a face."

He stammers and I see his lips quivering with fear. "Everything appears blur to me. I am unable to recognize myself in it, Nicole. How is it possible? Why do I get a dream like that?" He asks me in an exhausted tone and I just offer him a sad gaze, being clueless about his questions. I wish I could help him, but how can I do that when I don't know how to answer them. He gazes at me for a moment and then turns his head to the other side in disappointment. "I feel like I don't know who I am. I don't know what am I doing. It's horrible to think of not knowing who you are. Not being able to know your identity. It's horrible... ."

As I think of saying something to him, he turns around and asks me. "Do you remember that day when I was hesitant about getting into the water?" I nod, recognizing that he is talking about the time when we were at the beach. Yes, I even remember joking to him about saving him from getting drowned when he was being reluctant about getting into the water.

His voice shakes me out of my thoughts as I look at him. "It's because of another particular nightmare that I get... In that I see myself drowning in a sea. The sea which is sickeningly black, Cole." His breathing falters in apprehension as he narrates. "I couldn't move or do anything in it. I feel getting choked while being engulfed by the dark water. I find myself drowning in the darkness of my life, Cole." He admits truthfully and I just stare at him.

"But you know what's the worst thing? In every fucking nightmare, I see my own form laughing at myself. Laughing at myself for being fucking unaware of my life before that accident, being unaware of my actual identity." He sighs heavily and lets out a dry chuckle. "Laughing at myself for being a coward. A coward who couldn't get out of his fear."

"Oh, Christopher...Don't say that." I feel bad for how dejected he is feeling right now. It pains me to see him in such a mentally tormented state.

"I am tired of these. They are screwing my mind, Cole. I wake up in the middle of the night and couldn't get back to sleep."

"Does it happen every day?" I ask.

"No. Only when I am angry or stressed..." He lets it trail off softly, looking away, and I understand what he means. Yesterday it triggered him because he was both angry and stressed. He was disturbed because of narrating the entire ordeal about Millie and angry because of knowing about the incident that occurred at Peter's office. I suddenly feel guilty for being the prime reason for causing him this much distress because I was the one who pestered him to reveal that part of his life to me which he was trying to hide. Now I understand that he was doing it for a reason.

"It all started back in Boston. I went to bed with having disturbed nights of sleep." He proceeds and I listen to him carefully. "The nightmares were getting frequent by then. I guess it was because of the work stress. After not being able to bear with the regular nightmares, I decided to go on walks at night. Just to get a distraction." He looks back at the church as he says. "I kept walking until I found my heart at peace. And I found it in a church nearby. I didn't know why my legs carried me there and forced me to sit in front of it."

I see a small smile curving on his lips as his grey eyes shine under the streetlight. "I don't know why, but I felt calm... There I found an end to the turmoil going on within my head. I got a kind of peace of mind. I got my sanity back." He looks into my eyes and states. "That's why I started doing it. Whenever I find myself waking up disturbed in the night, I go in search of a church nearby. Honestly saying, I've never believed in god but there's something surely undeniable that I feel here. I just can't express it in words."

"I can understand that." I smile and say. After a minute, I look at him again and something suddenly occurs to me. "Have you ever thought of consulting a psychiatrist?" I ask him in a low tone, trying to not make him feel offended.

The smile on his face fades away as soon as he hears that from me. And I dread asking him the wrong question. "I don't know Nicole. I am scared of what I might have to hear from them. What if I could never get my memory back? What if I would never know how my past life was?" He utters in a baffled tone, surprising me with his answer. I didn't expect him to consider my suggestion, but if he is doing it, then it's good.

"How would you know? You have to see the brighter side of it, Christopher." I turn my body towards him so that now I am straight looking at him. "It has been helpful to many people. Maybe you would feel better after that?" I suggest.

"You should surely give it a try. Christopher." I say.

"I'll think about it...." Christopher scans my face for a minute and says hesitantly.

"At least promise me you would go for a counseling session once?" I hold his hand and gaze at him expectantly. His eyes dart between my face and our hands for a brief moment, and then he nods at me, giving a cute little smile. I grin at him in response. Awww, he looks freaking adorable when he smiles.

We stay looking at each other like that and for a second I forget everything else. It feels like it's just two of us sitting on a wide stretch of lush grass in the middle of the night gazing into each other's souls, not having a freaking worry about what tomorrow might be holding for us.

After some time, Christopher clears his throat and says. "I wish I could go inside...But I know I don't deserve to step foot into that holy place." He gives me a pained smile. "I am a sinner. All my life I have only done wrong to people. My hands are stained with blood, Cole." He points towards the church and I hear his voice breaking. "He wouldn't allow a sinner like me to enter his home."

"I know I do have a place reserved in hell because of my uncountable criminal deeds. He would never forgive me." He laughs and I could see the suffering reflecting in his face.

"That's not true. God is kind-hearted, Christopher. He is a creator...not a destroyer." I assure looking at him. "He is surely a forgiver or else he wouldn't be called merciful." I bring a broad smile to my face, trying to cheer him up. "There's always something good deep down in the heart of a person which people might not be able to see but he does." I look back to the statue in the church and tell him.

"You are not the person you think you are. You are a good man, Christopher, and I have seen it." Christopher observes me carefully as I speak. "I know it's hard for you with everything that happened in your life, but you can't give up like that. You need to fight, Christopher. You can't let your fears overpower your goodness."

"You have to fight for yourself. It's a fucking long way and it wouldn't be easy, but you have to do it. I am with you, Christopher. You have to do it for yourself." My fingers gently caress his cheek as I whisper. "You have to find yourself, just don't give up."

"Thank you." He nods, flashing a heartwarming smile. His eyebrows suddenly knit together and his expression sulks.

"What happened?" I ask him, looking confused.

He shakes his head awkwardly and lets out in an embarrassed tone. "I want to apologize to you. I feel bad for how I behaved last night." He pauses to take a peek at me and continues. "I shouldn't have talked about Colby like that."

"You were right. He had always been a nice friend to me." He looks at me apologetically. "I don't know I just get jealous thinking about you being with other men."

"You have to change it then," I say playfully, trying to lighten the mood.

But it seems to hit him on some other nerve as he becomes serious. "I am trying, Nicole... it's just..."

"But it doesn't look like." I sigh, cutting him off. I know this jealousy is a serious problem that we need to address one or the other day.

"You have to trust me, Christopher," I state in an exasperated tone.

"I trust you, Nicole..." His eyes soften as he sincerely admits.