Tequila Americano

10. sin

Wow. Sounds like a lot of work.

It was! It took us forever to put it together, and then put it out there...

It's really only too bad you couldn't be here for opening night!

There's quite a lot of pictures from Uni! And you're in them! Wink.

Send me some, alright?

Doubt I'll be able to come to London anytime soon.

Sure thing!

Take care of yourself, Ingrid. Love you.

A row of kisses and colourful hearts.

The exchange helped lighten her mood, so Ingrid returned to the meeting room with a spring to her step and a twinkle in her eye.

*

Edgar watched Ingrid thrash in her sleep, moonlit sweat glistening on her skin.

"No... don't... no..."

He'd heard her scream, as he now slept with his connecting door open, in case she ever needed him. But despite his best intentions, he just stood over her bed, unsure what else to do.

"...don't... kill him... no..."

"Ingrid..." Edgar climbed in and drew the blanket down to her waist. "Ingrid, wake up, it's only a nightmare."

He squeezed her shoulder, attempting to nudge her into consciousness without scaring her awake.

It didn't work.

Her eyes flew open at the same time as her mouth. A terrified screech stung his ears. She backed away from him, pressing herself into the headboard. Her chest heaved with ragged breaths, sweat trickled in streams down her neck.

"It's okay," Edgar held up his hands to reassure her he meant no harm. "You're okay, it was only a dream."

Ingrid licked her lips and gulped. Her eyes skittered back and forth, as if she was trapped in her body.

"I'm not going to... Here." He retreated one slow step at a time and sat on the carpet instead. "I'm not going to hurt you."

She reached for the water bottle on her nightstand. Her fingers shivered as she screwed it open.

"I know," she mumbled after a couple of sips. "I know." She took another swig and set the bottle down.

"Ingrid, I think you need to see a doctor."

She vigorously shook her head.

"Then – and don't punch me for this – a priest."

She raised an eyebrow at him in protest. "What for, an exorcism?"

"Ha, no. A confession."

"Yeah... right. A priest is the last fucking thing I need. Remember what happened last time I confessed to one?"

Edgar could clearly recall how Ingrid blamed the village priest from her childhood home for her grandmother's tragic death.

"I know. I know, but... Whatever happened that you keep bottled up like this inside of you... it's poisoning you, Ingrid. You're saying you can't tell anyone, but I know for a fact that catholic priests firmly uphold their Seals of Confession. I should know. The shit I've spewed in confessional... the next day, I'd show up in church and it was like nothing had ever happened."