Not a Dream Cassie I opened my eyes the next morning, half terrified that it had all been a dream… albeit a beautifully hot, sweet, romantic dream. My gaze quickly fell on Jack, sprawled on the bed next to me, looking so content as he slept. The mere sight of him made my heart beat in double time, and I resisted the urge to wake him for round two. Or was it three? All the emotions from last night jumbled within me and before I could fully process them, I realized I actually felt happy. Apparently happiness had been eluding me for months now. My new reality flooded my brain. Jack had appeared at my door last night after six months of no communication wearing a Mets jersey and holding a dozen red roses. He looked me in the eye and told me he was sorry, that he loved me, and that he would earn my trust again. I couldn’t believe he was standing there, and it took everything in me to not fall apart at the mere sight of him. I wanted to take him back into my life, but I needed to know that this time it would be forever. And now he was lying next to me in bed. I had questions about why it took him so long to get here and why he never contacted me, but honestly, at that moment,