The next morning, with Cindy by my side we walk over to the cafe. She's my backup plan, my buffer against the unknown. Cindy and I used to go way back- well now it's two years back. She's the college friend who's been with me through my study all-nighters. Zulu too but we are no longer friends.
Plus, Cindy is the girl with whom I had a few too many nights like the one where Zulu told my mom I was sick when I was actually just painfully hungover. The morning, I woke up in 2014, I had been out with Cindy drinking that previous night.
"Are you sure about this?" she whispers as we slip into the large cafe. "Meeting this guy after… everything with Dan?" I had informed her that Dan and I had broken up and she did express surprise over it but did not state what her opinion about it was. That is why I liked Cindy, she was not the prying type.
"It'd not like that Cindy," I lie. If I had to confide in anybody about my future status as Mrs. Adkins, it would be Avrielle and nobody else. "He is my father's associate, so I have no idea why he wants to meet me."
Cindy and I are dressed similarly in simple tees- different colors with pieces of denim over them and high-waisted jeans. Footwear is vans and ankle boots, with me donning a blush mini backpack and Cindy with a long handle chocolate-brown, purse. Our dark long thick hair are in messy buns. My accessories are stacked bracelets on my right wrist and a watch on the other hand to match my bag. Cindy has on hooped earrings and a necklace with her name that she never takes off.
We find Gabriel almost immediately, seated at a small table near the back, his gaze flicking up as we approach.
"Right," Cindy smirks.
He's dressed in simple button-down and dark jeans, a blend of casual and sharp that makes him stand out even in the laid-back atmosphere of the cafe. As I step closer, his expression shifts- surprise, maybe, at seeing me with someone else. But he hides it quickly, standing up to greet us.
"Megara," he says, his voice smooth and measured. "It's nice to meet you again."
"Likewise," I reply, offering a polite smile. "This is Cindy, my friend. I thought it'd be fun for her to join us." I do not know how to speak to my husband.
Cindy gives him a friendly wave, sliding into the seat next to me as I sit down, my bracelets noisily resting on the table. Gabriel's eyes flick between us, an unreadable glint in his gaze, but he settles back into his chair with a small nod.
My cheeks are crimson. I vow to never wear these noise makers again when his eyes drop on them and nervously, I pull my hands down onto my lap.
The conversation starts casual, surface-level polite dance of introductions and pleasantries. Cindy, ever the extrovert, jumps in with a few lighthearted questions, easing the initial tension as we eat our gluten-free sandwiches. Mine is turkey with avocado, Cindy is having hummus and eggplant, and Gabe's is a rotisserie chicken, Caesar. Gabriel answers easily, his responses thoughtful but brief. There's a calmness about him, an air of self-assurance that contrasts with Cindy's animated energy.
But as the minutes tick by, I notice his attention shifting subtly back to me. He asks about my interests, and my classes, and even touches on my family's business, showing a surprising awareness of the details. It's clear he's done his homework, which only adds to the sense of mystery surrounding him.
"So," Cindy who is constantly grabbing my thigh under the table, pipes up at one point, grinning mischievously. "What made you want to reach out to Meg, of all people?" She was showing she could read between the lines to both of us- even though the lines for Gabe might have been misread. Gabe has no interest in me. Our marriage was one of convenience.
I shoot her a warning look, but Gabriel doesn't seem fazed. He pauses, glancing down at his coffee before looking back up with a slight smile.
"Well," he begins, his voice low and steady, "I suppose you could say I was… intrigued." He holds my gaze for a beat longer than necessary, a spark of something unspoken flickering between us. "Your father speaks highly of you, Megara. I thought it was worth a conversation."
Intrigued? By me?
I feel my cheeks warm at the unexpected compliment, and I try to mask my reaction by taking a sip of my drink. Peppermint. My heart is quickening inside my chest. Cindy nudges me under the table, an amused glint in her eye that only makes my blush deepen. "My father speaks highly of all of us, Mr. Adkins.
There's a surprising comfort in his presence- a sense that he's genuinely interested in what I have to say, even if our paths have only just crossed.
We finish our meal and Gabriel glances at his watch, a hint of reluctance in his expression as he leans back in his chair. "I should be heading out," he says, his tone like the one I am used to. Calculated. "But this has been… enlightening."
"Same here," I say, offering a small smile. "Thanks for inviting me. For having us."
He nods, his gaze lingering for a moment before he stands, extending a hand. "Perhaps we'll meet again sometime. Cindy." As he says her name, he also shakes her hand with a smile and then goes to pay the bill.
My eyes trail him until I see him reach for his phone. I could swear it was Cassandra on the other side- my paranoia told me this.
Cindy watches him leave, then turns to me with an arched eyebrow. Feeling a warmth that lingers even after he's gone from his hand that briefly held mine, I am stunned because I am also raging inside.
"Enlightening?" she echoes, laughing. "That's one way to put it."
Cassandra. She haunts my thoughts, like a specter. Her unknown image wraps around every idle moment until sometimes I can barely think of anything else.
Gabe's forever love. Perfect Cassandra, so effortlessly devastating for me. It's absurd and irrational, yet here I am. Tormented by jealousy over a husband who didn't even know me. A man I don't have any right to claim. What is this madness? Gabe and I were never in love...
So why am I here fuming mad and being consumed by memories of a time that never happened? Or of a marriage that failed- even when I told my husband I was carrying his baby?
The weight of it all presses on my chest, stealing the air from my lungs.
I need a face to put on this unwelcome shadow in my life.