Long after my parents are in bed and Matt and Liz are gone, I lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, heart pounding. The familiar shapes of my childhood room are outlined in the soft glow of the backyard lights filtering through my window. I was home. Really, truly home. Every part of me ached to keep it that way, to hold onto this moment, to make sure I didn't wake up tomorrow and find that it was all just a cruel, beautiful dream.
And so, I remain awake.
What if I close my eyes and it all vanishes? What if I wake up and it's 2024, and Gabe is there, looking at me with those cold, distant eyes, telling me he wants to be with someone else? This Cassandra whom he loved. I could almost see him, hear him saying those words over and over. That sharp, cold finality in his voice, as if our marriage had been nothing more than a transaction. And then, the unbearable memory of the lipstick stain- the evidence that someone else was already occupying the place I thought was mine.
The tears burn behind my eyes. Here I am, lying in bed, warm and safe, yet haunted by the echoes of a future that had broken me. I couldn't go back to that. I wouldn't. So, I sit up, pulling the covers around me, and refuse to let sleep take me.
The hours tick by, and I busied myself in small, familiar routines. I tiptoed downstairs and made myself a cup of coffee- strong, clutching it tightly in my hands and savoring the warmth. I listened to the gentle hum of the refrigerator, the creaks of the house settling, every little sound of the life I had lost. I wandered through each room, touching the walls, running my fingers over framed photos on the shelves. Pictures of my mom and dad. Of us as a happy family, on vacation. Liz holding me and Avrielle when we were babies, all of us laughing at a beach, sunburnt and happy.
Of highschool dances and bracers. Of two photos of my twin and I, with our classmates from when we graduated highschool and another from kindergarten. I picked up the last one and stared- these were whom I thought I would never forget- but I did. I barely remember most of them save my four besties whom I still think of from time to time fondly and pop up on each other's social media feeds now and again.
The only one I see occasionally from highschool is Todd and this is because he is employed by another firm I am affiliated with because of work. But no, we are no longer friends. Associates, yes.
I rest it back down and pick up another with Liz as a cheerleader. So gorgeous. She was not captain but she was still pretty much a leader in my eyes and super popular in school. Liz, and Avrielle and I were so opposites yet, we all got along so well.
Avrielle and I were more into the chess club- well me. And I loved basketball. Avrielle was into swimming and football.
To say both mom and dad were happy with us is an understatement.
The sky was beginning to lighten when my mother found me curled up on the couch, clutching an old family photo album in my lap. She frowned, looking at me with concern. "Megs? Honey, what are you doing up so early? You look like you haven't slept all night."
I force a smile, hugging the album closer. "Just couldn't sleep, that's all. Felt a little... nostalgic."
She takes a seat next to me, her hand resting gently on my back. "You've been acting so strangely since you came home. Is everything okay?" Her voice was soft, laced with concern, and for a moment, I wanted to spill everything, to tell her about the life I'd left behind, the broken heart I was trying to outrun. But how could I? How could she understand something I barely understood myself?
"Yeah, I'm fine, Mom. I just... I missed you," I whisper, fighting the tears that threaten to spill over.
She raises an eyebrow, a half-smile pulling at her lips. "Are you sure you're not on something, Meg? You've been... clingy, to say the least."
I force a laugh, at her jest, trying to brush off her worry. "No drugs, I promise. Just... I don't know. Maybe I needed a break from reality."
Mom looks at me for a moment- with her mom eyes. Her eyes softening, and she wraps an arm around me. I lean into her, resting my head on her shoulder, breathing in the comforting scent of her perfume. I let myself melt into her embrace, trying to memorize the warmth and safety of it, storing it away like a secret I could keep forever.
By noon, the exhaustion was clawing at me. Every muscle in my body ached, my eyes burned, and my head throbbed. My dad gave me a strange look as I clung to him in the living room, clutching his arm tightly while he read the newspaper.
"Megara, honey, are you sure you're alright?" he asks, a hint of amusement in his voice. "You're acting like we're never going to see each other again."
I blink struggling to find the words. "I just... I don't want to miss a single second with you guys." My heart aches while I say the words.
He laughs in his usual dad tone- and my stomach swells. I have not heard it in some years and my chin wobbles as he pats my hand gently. "Well, we're not going anywhere, kiddo. I promise." But I could see the worry in his eyes, a shadow of doubt that I couldn't ease.
Swallowing hard, I force out in the most normal tone I can muster up, "Ugh dad, I'm not doing drugs, okay?" I scoff in typical teenager mode, rolling my eyes.
It works. My father shakes his head in amusement and reopens his newspaper. He never used to miss a day without reading his paper. Nowadays, he does not even bother to pick it up from the lawn. Well, back in 2024 at least.
I called my sisters, but stayed on the call as long as my twin could. Almost two hours- until 1 am with her. She brings up how I cried the first night she took over Liz's room and how she had to come back into the old room we shared. The very one I was in now.
I did not cry, but I was moping. My twin wanted a different room than the one we had shared our entire lives- I was obviously emotional. I thought it was something I did back then to upset her.
Liz always had her own room while my twin and I shared one. When Liz went off to college, Avrielle moved into it. It was a very confusing time for me. But once I got used to the whole, Avrielle's her own person and I am mine- I loved the space. I loved my room and being alone.
This was why we decided to go to separate colleges. To explore who we were.
By Sunday, I tried to push through the day, forcing myself to stay awake, to savor every moment. Liz and Matt stopped by that evening, and I clung to Liz as if she were a lifeline, wrapping my arms around her and holding on for dear life. She raised an eyebrow, giving me a puzzled look. "Meg, you're starting to weird me out. Are you sure you're okay? You look like you haven't slept in days."
"I'm fine, just... really glad to see you, that's all," I mumble, trying to steady my voice.
She gives me a concerned smile, squeezing my hand. "Well, I'm glad to see you too. But maybe get some sleep? You're going to scare Matt off with those zombie eyes. You're worrying mom and dad, you know."
"If I do, they might go away," I mutter and she places her hand on my forehead, checking if I had a fever.
I try to laugh, but the sound was hollow. I was terrified. Terrified of waking up in that cold, sterile apartment where Gabe had left me alone, abandoned. In pain. Where my dreams of family had crumbled into ashes, leaving nothing but an emptiness I couldn't fill.
Finally, after nearly three days without sleep, my body gives in. The exhaustion crept over me like a warm blanket, wrapping around me until I couldn't resist. My eyelids grew heavy, my muscles relaxed, and I sink into the soft embrace of my bed, unable to fight it any longer.
As I drift into sleep, I clutch my pillow tightly, silently begging the universe not to take this away from me. I clung to the hope that I would wake up right here, that this life wouldn't dissolve into nothingness. I feel my hot tears running down as my mind went blank.
When I open my eyes, my room is flooded with sunlight. The familiar shapes and colors were still there. The posters on the wall, the old teddy bear sitting in the corner, the faded quilt my mom had made for me. I let out a shaky breath, relief flooding over me like a tidal wave.
I am still here.
Here in my parents' home.
The relieved tears spill over, unbidden, as I sit up, first glancing at my tummy area and then around, taking in every detail. This was real. I was really, truly here. No lipstick stains, no divorce papers, no empty apartment. I am surrounded by the people I love, people who are still whole and alive and vibrant. And if I remembered correctly, my mom was just downstairs, probably making breakfast, my dad would be reading the paper at the kitchen table.
And my sisters are just a phone call away.
I get up, feeling lightheaded from the sudden release of tension. But nevertheless, I grab my mobile phone to check the date. Yup, still 2014. My heart aches with gratitude, and a fierce determination settles in my chest. I had been given a second chance, a chance to make things right, to protect the life I had taken for granted.
Should I go mad crazy and tell my twin to switch colleges? Or that I would?
As I dress myself, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, my face still flushed and puffy from sleep. But there was something different in my eyes. Is it resolve, that hadn't been there before? I wasn't going to let this slip away. This was my life, my family, and I would do whatever it took to hold onto it.
My pore rise. I know what I have to do. I have to prevent the accident.
I step into the hallway, feeling like I am seeing the world with new eyes. Every sound, every smell, every detail felt precious, like a gift I had almost lost forever.
I hurried downstairs, where my mom is indeed making breakfast, humming to herself as she flips pancakes on the stove. My dad glances up from his newspaper, giving me a smile. "Good morning, sleepyhead."
"Morning," I reply, my voice thick with emotion, as I take a seat at the table- my regular seat, watching them, my heart swelling with love and gratitude.
They exchange a glance, and my mom reaches over, giving my hand a gentle squeeze. "Whatever you've been going through, honey, we're here for you," she said softly.
I nodded, unable to speak. I didn't need to explain. All that mattered was that I was here, with them, and I wasn't going to waste another second.
My mother probably thinks I am stressed due to exams- beside the drugs she joked about. I mean, I really am a bit strung out. Possibly she might think … boys. A hormone thing. Maybe bullying or peer pressure.
Dad might think- hmm, my period or like mom- drugs.
Now I am to convince them it is none of the above.
Eating breakfast together, laughing and talking, I felt a peace settle over me. Something I think I never had with my husband.