Chapter 101: Shared Dreams

Lisa’s POV

The next morning arrived gently, a warm secret pressed to my skin. I awoke to the familiar rise and fall of Leo’s chest under my cheek the rhythm of his heartbeat anchoring me before my eyes could even open.

For a long moment, I just lay there, breathing him in, sensing the serene pressure of his hand planted flat on my back like he had cradled me the whole night through and never backing off.

He roused at the movement, eyelids flicking open.

“Good morning,” he whispered, voice thick with sleep and heat. The phrase hummed lightly against my palm that was on his chest and I was smiling even before I realized it.

I wasn’t inclined to begin talking – not initially. But there was something about the silence, the safety, the quiet intimacy of waking up with my head on his chest that melted every frozen part of me. One second, I’m grinning at him, and the next, I’m admitting to him the bizarre dream I’d had in the night.

I should’ve been able to tell by the way Leo was looking at me — his soft eyes locked on me as if I were the only thing he was seeing — but I expected it to sound ridiculous once I said it out loud. I told him how in the dream I was standing by the edge of a broad field, not knowing whether to run or stay rooted where I was, and how he had come up behind me, leading me on he wasn’t compelling me — just accompanying me.

He didn't laugh. Rather, he lifted his hand and stroked a loose strand of hair from my face.

“Maybe it means something,” he whispered. "Maybe you’re walking toward something new… something good." His voice was firm, but the feeling concealed beneath it — optimistic, nearly awe-inspired — was like a hand wrapped around my chest.

I was inspired to share more and reveal aspects of my dreams I usually hide for fear of appearing juvenile or over-ambitious. I told him about the initiative I’d longed to lead – the one I never brought up, because it seemed too big for me.

I told him about this crazy notion to develop a mentor program for young women coming into the industry and maybe I’d finally been able to get the better of that are you crazy/self doubts that always kind of hold me back. And when I wavered, nervously dragging my thumb across his collarbone, he gave me a comforting squeeze at my waist, as if he were silently encouraging me to move on.

He didn’t butt in. Not once. He just held me close and listened with that soft, deliberate silence he always had on, as if what I was saying really mattered and had a place in the world. When I exhaled a breath that I didn’t realize I was holding, he moved under me until he was sitting up, pulling me with him so I was still resting in his lap. His hands rested on my hips, and that, more than any dream or hope, was what kept me grounded.

“Lisa,” he said gently, as if my name were a holy thing he could never quite say enough, “these dreams you have… I want them to be yours. All of them. And when you ever start to doubt yourself, I want you to think of this moment.”

He pressed his forehead against mine, his warmth reassuring. “You can do more than you tell yourself you can. And as for whatever route takes you on whatever path you choose — doing your dreams, your goals — I just want to be in your path.”

His words sunk in deeply, and settled in places that had not seen nourishment in years. I felt something open up inside of me — something soft, hopeful and the most beautiful kind of terrifying. I cupped his face in my hands, looking into eyes that didn't judge, only believed absolutely.

“I want to support your dreams too,” I murmured.. “Not just follow your lead… but stand with you. Like a friend should.”

He kissed me on the forehead "Then that's what we're gonna do," he said softly. “We’re in this together.”

The morning passed by in a leisurely manner, with the outside world becoming eventually irrelevant as we exchanged our future plans—his plans for a new project at work, his secret wish to once more take up a hobby he’d given up for years, and the silent terror he nursed that he wasn’t good enough, and never would be, and he feared failing me as well.

Hearing him voice his own doubts and fears stirred something protective within me. I gathered his face in my hands and kissed him, slow and gentle, I wanted him to feel that same reassurance he’d given me.

I whispered, “You are enough” in his ear. “More than enough.”

We stayed like that for a long time, swapping dreams and admissions in between kisses and soft touches, morning mellow air blanketing us in comfort and honesty. Every word was sacrosanct and every breath they took was a promise shared. When finally we got out bed, and let the sunlight wash all over us, we were closer more deeply — more firmly, in truth — than ever before.

As we got ready for the day, briefly bumping in the bathroom and stealing glances with shy smiles, I felt a quiet certainty settle inside me. These morning conversations—these private negotiations of hope and exposure—were weaving our lives together in ways neither of us could imagine.

They were becoming our sanctuary, a place where the shape of our separate dreams took on a shared, and powerful, contour.

As Leo wrapped his arms around me from behind and placed a soft kiss on my shoulder, I knew one indisputable truth.

We were more than just hitching up our dreams.

We were building a future.

We both want a future—with a clarity and a tenderness that feels like a new beginning.