Dan's been relentless. It's almost as though he can't process that we've broken up, or maybe he's determined to rewrite the story with his own version of reality. Every time we cross paths, his eyes lock on me with that confused hurt that keeps pulling me back to the day I discovered him with Zulu.
Or rather, a day that, for him, hasn't happened yet.
I hadn't considered how hard it would be to maintain distance, given that we live on the same campus and share some of the same classes. We're part of a House system here at college, a nod to the British-style traditions. My particular House, Marlowe, is famous for its spirit and community. My friends here, like Zulu, have always felt more like family. But it all feels different now like I'm playing along in a play where I already know everyone's lines. It's almost unbearable.
Dan stops me just outside the lecture hall after one of our afternoon classes. His expression is a strange blend of frustration and worry. "Meg," he says, stepping closer as if he's hoping proximity might make things clearer between us. "I don't understand why we're like this. You've barely spoken to me since…since that fight. But I don't even know what I did."
I take a slow breath, trying to decide if honesty is worth the effort, or if he's just going to chalk all this up to my "mood swings." "Dan, it's…complicated. And it's not something I can explain right now," I say, feeling the words catch in my throat. How could I possibly tell him that, in some future, we haven't lived yet, I found him tangled up with Zulu and that it shattered my trust?
"But that's not good enough," he says, his voice low, a pained edge creeping in. "You can't just leave things hanging because of something that didn't even happen. Meg, are you listening to yourself? You keep accusing me of things, and it's like you're mad at me for something I haven't even done. I just want to understand."
I hesitate, my hands tightening around my bag. It's so strange to hear him deny it as if that history no longer exists. And maybe, technically, it doesn't. Yet the memory is fresh in my mind, not raw but seeing him, them, this place... it's like it just happened yesterday. I want to scream at him, to tell him it was real because I witnessed it- but he had not cheated yet.
But, this is my one chance to rewrite the past, to change the future. To have my mom back. To have my sister back- to get dad back. I won't allow him to muggle my mind with what feels like teenage bullsh!t. I am too mature for this childishness.
The look on his face is genuine confusion. It's like he's holding onto a version of me that I don't think I can be anymore.
I shake my head, willing myself not to fall into old habits. "Dan, this time…I just need space," I murmur, not sure I believe my own words. "I need to figure things out."
His eyes search mine, a flicker of something close to despair in his expression. "This doesn't make any sense. We were fine. I mean, yeah, we had some differences, but we were…happy. I thought we were happy." He's pleading now, the hurt visible in his face, and it twists something inside me.
I look away, swallowing hard. "I'm sorry, Dan. I really am. But it's better this way." Before he can respond, I turn and walk away. The distance feels right, somehow. Necessary.
At this point in my life- Dan means nothing to me. His feelings do not mean anything to me. Neither is his hurt. He might be innocent now but was he when he was locking lips with my best friend? Did he think of my hurt then? Did she? Hmm, I wonder if they were married now- in the future I mean because I hadn't thought of them in years.
How tragic. Or possibly, how nice that two cheaters found each other and were happy? Whatever, I am too busy trying to survive college to worry about that. I've been given a second chance to save my family, and nothing will hinder me.
---
Zulu corners me the next day, her gaze intense and probing. She's not exactly someone you'd call gentle. She's more like a force of nature, blowing through any barrier until she's satisfied with what she finds. "Alright, Megara Lee," she says, arms folded and one eyebrow raised, "you've got some explaining to do."
I try to feign ignorance, but Zulu's not buying it. She leans closer, her face serious. "Why did Dan come up to me, asking if I knew why you'd accused us of cheating? I don't even know where this is coming from. Did someone tell you I was with him?"
The accusation catches me off guard. "You and Dan? No, I…no one told me anything." I know I sound crazy; it's all there in her incredulous expression.
"Because for the record," she continues, crossing her arms even tighter, "I don't go out partying like you and Cindy. I don't date friends' boyfriends, and I don't do whatever this is." Her tone softens, just slightly. "You know me better than that, don't you?"
The thing is, she's right, technically. I used to think the way she thinks she is as well. And maybe that's the crux of this whole thing. I know future Zulu. I know the version of her that's kissed Dan, that's taken what we had and twisted it into something painful. But this Zulu, the Zulu standing in front of me now, is looking at me like I've lost my mind like she's the friend I once trusted with everything.
I sigh, feeling the weight of the impossible. "I don't know. I don't know why I said it. I…guess it's just stress. Sorry, Zulu. I shouldn't have made it sound like you'd done something you haven't."
She narrows her eyes, still wary. "You've been acting strange, Meg. Like, even more than usual. It's like you're…somewhere else, half the time."
I force a laugh, as light as I can make it. "Yeah, I guess it's been a rough few weeks. A lot on my mind."
She studies me for a long moment, then shrugs. "Just…try to remember who's on your side, alright? We're all figuring things out. But if something is going on, you can tell me."
I give a small nod. "Thanks, Zulu. I'll keep that in mind." I turn away, but her words linger, a faint sting of guilt prickling at the edges of my resolve. She doesn't deserve my suspicion, not in this timeline. She's as innocent of all this. Dan too.
But what can I do when I know what they will do? It sickens me but I know what I know, and I do not want Dan in my life as my boyfriend. Neither Zulu as a friend. I need to find better ways to avoid them and future situations.
The next few days slip by in a blur of classes, trying to focus while the world feels like it's pulling me in a hundred directions at once. I spend more time at the library, just reading or pretending to study, or on calls with my twin sister Avrielle, anchoring myself to something real. This time, I'm intent on not losing the balance, on sticking closer to her than I did before. To Mom.
The memories of the future, or whatever you call it, keep pressing down on me. My future is out there, waiting like a fog I can't see through, but I can't ignore what I know either. I'm supposed to be here, learning, making mistakes, and experiencing life. But I feel older somehow like a part of me has already moved past all this, impatient to get things 'right' this time.
I'm not here in college for the parties anymore, or the thrill of breaking rules, or whatever it was I thought I needed the first time around. This time, I'm keeping close to home, close to my family, as if that might change things as if it might somehow anchor me in place.
I also grabble with the what ifs.
The idea of the butterfly effect haunts me every waking moment. What if, by saving my mother and Avrielle from the accident, I set into motion events that unravel the future as I know it? It's not just the small things I worry about- like whether I'd still have the same job, or if I'd even meet Gabe under the same circumstances- that's already out the door- but also the grand, cosmic consequences. What if a war breaks out somewhere because someone who was supposed to die ends up living? What if someone important- a leader, a scientist- never fulfills their destiny because of my interference? It's absurd, really, but once the thought takes root, it spirals out of control.
I try to comfort myself by imagining the good changes instead. My father wouldn't become the shadow of himself that he was after we lost them. He'd be his usual strong, witty self. Maybe I wouldn't feel so hollow inside. Maybe Gabe and I could have made the marriage work if I had met him without the pain of losing my family members.
Maybe there would be no distance between us. No lipstick stain. I wonder if I could make him forget Cassandra, convince him to love me the way I always wished he would. Maybe I will be able to love him.
And then there's another wild thought: if I'd known about his father's cancer before it was too late, could I have warned him, saved him? Perhaps this time I could try to help in ways I never imagined before. Selfishly I also think of Cassandra's husband as well. Gabe did say he died from cancer as well. This may have been the bond between my husband and his mistress.
Maybe if I meet Cassandra's husband, I can advise him as well...