Chapter 29

***Levi.***

I found myself inside a dumpster, my refuge for so long that I had lost count of time.

Only the smell of rotten flesh and blood assaulted my nostrils. The lid, far away. Fear gripping me.

Alarmed, I started gasping for air, struggling to escape the crush of the broken bodies that buried me. I yelled, but my voice was choked. A bloodied rag gagged me.

Helpless, I reached my feet for the wall of the dumpster closest to me. Pounding against the wall, the soft thud of my feet echoed around me. I whimpered. My body trembled uncontrollably.

Just when my feet slackened, a voice called me. First, I thought it was my imagination. But the sound came again, and he expectantly raised my head, grunting. Then the lid opened and light streamed in from outside, dazzling my eyes.

Calling my name softly, standing on the surface was no other than Kenya. Her face was bright, like an angel of light as she smiled down at me. She was dressed in her wedding garment, giving a tender look at me. I gazed at her, bewildered.

"Give me your hand, Levi." She requested, cautiously, extending what I recognized as her wedding veil.

Her eyes penetrated me. Tearing down walls that I had built around me. Somehow, I was a fifteen-year-old boy again. My hands young as I instinctively extended them, grabbing the veil. Though I doubted it's tensile strength, I found myself eagerly grasping the veil. Hoping that it would pull me out of this sunken abyss. Fresh waves of hope inundated me, as I was pulled into a radiant light. *Kenya*.

"Kenya." I muttered, my eyes abruptly opening. Evidence of dawn streaming in.

My body quivered in the aftermath of the familiar vision as I lay in bed, wrapped in sheets. Thank God it was a dream, I breathed, sitting up on the bed. The same dream I had since I was an adolescent. Only this time, the face of my rescuer became distinct. *Kenya, his wife*.

Sighing deeply, I swung my legs around the bed. My toes curled taut at the tension that surged inside me. I tried to rein in my emotions, but a familiar fear, gripped me.

*"Think of beautiful things, my love,"* my late Mum's voice echoed inside me, like it used to when the nightmares started.

Instinctively, I pushed the nightmare, fishing for anything pleasant.

Then, like a gust of air to a dying fish, the scent of my wife filled me. A certain peace inundated me.

Realizing my surroundings, I looked at the bed and found her spot empty. In my bid to escape the hellish dream, I hadn't realized my surroundings. Only a blotch of crimson graced her sleeping spot.

*Where was she?*

Rising to my feet, I decided to go for a run. A welcome distraction.

Outside, dressed for a run on the sandy beach in a pair of navy blue nicker joggers, matching sneakers, my bare sculpted torso and shades, I broke into a run. A couple of girls watched me as I ran. But my heart was elsewhere. Having that effect on women, since forever. Even with my status, I still turned heads. My toned body, always in perfect form. My personal trainer always kept track of my fitness. That's what I paid him for, right?

I ran a great distance, the sun warming my burnished skin, which I inherited from my mum's side of the family.

I arrived at the beach in no time, with others exercising on the beach.

When I first had that nightmare, I had been new in the world I had found myself. A world filled with darkness. A darkness that had slowly swallowed me whole, leaving nothing behind.

Over the years, I had seen the darkness as an extension of me. My shadow. My refuge. Slowly, the nightmares became my identity. An embraced life.

But this time, my body didn't wish to accept the nightmares. Something in me suddenly protested. I wanted to hang on to the anchor of light I had seen in my dream. I wanted to banish the darkness. Kenya, my anchor.

Running, my chest burning from the exertion, I found myself slowing as an enthralling sight halted me.

My wife, dressed in a pristine wispy dress, danced a few steps ahead. A small audience gathered, watching her, oblivious to her.

Fascinated, I took leisurely steps in her direction. Catching a whiff of her scent mixed with the sea breeze, as I drew closer. My stirred senses, sending jolts of electricity through my body.

Memories of our steaming passion the previous night, flooded back. Pleasure sent to my core. Kenya was a soft sight for my tormented soul. The sun's rays splayed around her, in combination of her innocuous appearance, gave her an ethereal look. An Angel of light, like my dream.

No audible sound as she danced. But she had on a pair of white ear pods. Pride soared in me, as she danced. Even the sands fell to her feet. The small crowd, enraptured.

Just then, she missed a step, tripping to the floor. Gasps went round, as I rushed to her side in no time. Alarmed, I lowered myself to the ground, checking her for any signs of pain. I saw the look of surprise in her eyes.

Slowly, I raised us both to our feet. Her body felt so soft and right beneath my fingers.

"Are you alright?" I asked tenderly.

My full height towered over her. She was beautiful, even at this time of the morning. No makeup on. Her hair, in a bun, was soft and moist, with traces of curls. Her sun-kissed skin glowed. Or was it the morning after glow? I mischievously smiled.

Helplessly, I found myself closing the distance between us. I lowered my lips gently to hers and claimed them in a sensual kiss. She yielded. Her lips parted of her own accord. Delectable, mine to relish, forever.