Birds chirping outside the window is the sound I wake to again but my eyes remain closed, contented. "Hmm," I stretch and smelling Gabe on the pillow, I curl back into a ball with a satisfied smile on my face while my insides are spreading this warm sort of comfort feeling, pulling the sheet back over me as well.
My eyes open wide, and the warmth turns cold because I do not have birds outside my window. Gabe and I hated the darn sound and chose our bedroom to ensure we were not anywhere close to trees. But this is not home in my time, is it?
Gabe is already awake, sitting on the edge of the bed with, his still bared, back to me. His phone is in his hand, and he's scrolling through it absentmindedly.
Possibly he could be messaging his girlfriend, Cassandra. That thought sends a sour taste to my mouth.
"You're awake," he says without turning around. "Good morning."
"Why were you here?" I blurt out, my voice groggy.
He glances over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow. "You were freaking out last night. I came up to check on you, and you were already asleep. I didn't want to leave you alone, so I stayed. That's it."
I nod slowly, unsure whether to believe him. "You could've slept on the couch," I point out boldly. One because I did not want him to have the wrong impression about me and two-
He smirks faintly. "I could have, but I didn't. Sorry if that bothers you."
It does, but not for the reasons I think it should. I did not want to get used to him again- this time I think my heart will be on the losing end of him. There, I admit it, I am falling for Gabe, hard and fast. I don't respond, and the silence stretches between us.
"Meg," he says after a moment, his tone serious. "Whatever's going on with you, you need to figure it out, but I want you to know you can trust me." He stands, stretching, and I try not to stare at the way his muscles move under his skin. "We'll talk after coffee, yeah?" As he leaves, I sit there, staring at the closed door, my thoughts a tangled mess. Last night feels like a blur, but the memory of his arm around me, his warmth against me, lingers.
And for reasons I can't explain, I don't want to let it go.
Throwing off the blanket, I rush to the bathroom and search for a toothbrush and finding no spare. Whatever- Gabe is my future husband- grabbing Gabe's toothbrush, I squeeze the paste on and brush the fastest I ever did in my entire life, cringing when I see my morning face.
It isn't bad but it isn't great either.
Using his gel, I wash my face as well hurrying into the room to search for the moisturizer. By habit of him being my husband, I know he keeps in on the dresser. Voila. All moisturized, less than a minute later. It isn't my brand but it's only a one-time use so no harm done, right?
Gabe returns with two mugs, handing me one steaming one which I place on his nightstand after taking a sip. He didn't quite get it right yet but when we were married, he did. Leaning against the edge of his desk, arms crossed as he watches me from across the room, seated. His dark eyes search my face, a mix of curiosity and concern, as if he's trying to piece together a puzzle I refuse to share. I sit on the bed, knees pulled to my chest, unable to meet his gaze for too long. The silence stretches between us, heavy and expectant, until he finally speaks.
"You're not yourself, Meg," he says softly. "And don't tell me you're fine because I know you're not."
Not myself? How would he know? I shrug, focusing on a faint thread sticking out of his comforter, attempting to gather my thoughts. I glance up at him, his expression so open and sincere it's almost disarming. "You wouldn't believe me even if I told you."
He arches a brow. "Try me."
I shake my head, a hollow laugh escaping me. "It's…complicated."
"That's what people say when they don't want to talk," he says, pushing off the desk and walking closer. He stops a few feet away, his presence filling the room. "But I'm here, Meg. Whatever it is, you don't have to carry it alone."
Why is he talking to me this way? As if we're friends? As if we have known each other- I know him, he does not know me. Lowering my head, guilt and frustration twist inside me. He doesn't understand. He can't. "Some things are bigger than what words can fix, Gabe."
He sits down on the edge of the bed, close enough that I can feel the warmth of him. Nervously, I reach for my cup and take a gulp of the hot brew. His voice softens. "Does this have anything to do with your twin? Avrielle?"
My head snaps up, and I search his face for answers. "Why would you say that?" I replace the cup.
"Something your parents mentioned last night," he says, sitting on the mattress which doesn't even dip in the slightest, in front of me, leaning back slightly. "Or is it your mom? She said you've been…off. Like you're carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders." He cups my face then. "I don't mean to dive into your family's affair., Meg but I am... concerned about you."
A sharp pang cuts through me at the thought of Avrielle. I want to tell her I'm not upset- I spoke with her last night, and she seemed fine with me. I want to grab her and hold on and never let her go. But I can't explain. Not without sounding insane. "I'm not mad at her," I say quietly. "I'm just…dealing with things."
"Things," he repeats, his tone laced with skepticism. Both his hands cup my face now. "You're being vague again."
I let out a shaky breath, my fingers gripping the edge of the comforter. "If you knew, it wouldn't change anything. It's something I have to fix myself."
"Why?" he presses. "Why do you have to fix it alone?"
My chest tightens. "Because no one else can." An image of flashing lights enters my mind of what is to come. My father collapsing as he saw their mangled bodies. Him grabbing me as I run past him to shield me from the horrid sight. How do you save the people you love when they don't even know they're running out of time?
He watches me carefully, the room silent except for the faint hum of the air conditioner. Then, he speaks again, this time with a note of hesitation, his hands dropping. "Speaking of Avrielle."
"What?" I ask warily.
"She said you and I have…chemistry." His voice is calm, almost clinical like he's analyzing data rather than dropping a bombshell. He's changing the heavy setting to a lighter one.
My cheeks flush, and I look away, pretending to focus on the window. "She doesn't know what she's talking about."
"Doesn't she?" he asks, his voice dropping slightly. "Because, if I'm honest, I've felt it too."
My breath catches, and I turn to face him. "Gabe-"
"I'm not saying it's a bad thing," he interrupts, holding up a hand. "But it's there, Meg. And pretending it's not, doesn't make it go away."
I stare at him, words failing me. How do I explain that in another life, our marriage was a regrettable one for him? A loss that still aches in the deepest part of me? How do I tell him that I know what it's like to have him and to lose him? I can't. Instead, I shake my head.
"It doesn't matter," I whisper. "Not right now."
He leans forward, his gaze unwavering. "It matters to me."
"It shouldn't," I snap, my voice sharper than I intended. "You don't understand."
"Then help me understand," he says, his tone steady but firm. "Because I can't stand watching you shut everyone out, pretending like you're okay when you're clearly not."
Tears prick my eyes, but I blink them away. "Can't stand?" I jump off the bed. "You don't even know me. Stop acting like you do. I just met you!"
He studies me for a long moment, then nods slowly, as if accepting my answer for now. But his next words catch me off guard. "Whatever it is, Meg…if you need me, I'm here. You matter to me, more than you know."
Guilt washes over me. This isn't some random guy- it's Gabe. "I'm trying to protect the people I care about, okay? That's all I can say."
His expression softens, but his frustration doesn't fade entirely. "You don't have to do that alone. I want to be there for you, Megara. Let me." He moves to stand before me, his face looking down at mine. Jaw clenching, eyes so serious and ...sincere.
"I do," I insist, my voice cracking. "Because if I mess this up, the consequences are on me. No one else."
"Your burdens can be mine." His tone is near silent, his eyes piercing, tilting my chin to him. I swallow hard, the weight of his words pressing against my chest. "Thank you," I whisper, though it feels inadequate for everything I can't say.
For a moment, the tension eases, and the room feels lighter. But deep down, I know this is only the beginning of the storm. And I don't know if either of us will come out of it unscathed.
Why- what is happening right now? Why is Gabe being this way when he pushed me away in our other life? Rejected me and our baby for this Cassandra.