Days have gone by since the garage sale. From here on out, I will refer to that day as the time we had a garage sale.
The cosmic air or whatever energy it is, is calm. Nothing is going haywire in my family's life- nor the outside world. I did have that one-moment last night where I thought, 'Damn if I had only known, I would have memorized the lottery numbers'
Sitting on the edge of my single bed, staring at the moonlight filtering through the blinds, the quiet hum of the world around me is oddly calming. Zulu is on her side of the room fast asleep as well, but unlike the past few days of overthinking and panicking on whether my mother and sister would face death only differently this time, I am at peace.
Everything is perfect. My mom is still alive. Avrielle is safe at her campus, away from the danger I know was coming and next week, when the semester ends we will all be reunited. I feel a heavy weight lift off my chest. I did it. I managed to buy them more time.
I close my eyes and exhale, trying to steady my racing heart. It feels like I've been holding my breath for an eternity- this strange, twisted version of reality where everything feels fragile like it could shatter at any moment.
But- nothing is broken.
Tonight, I have come to terms with my reality- that perhaps the night I lost our baby, I'd died. Maybe I bled out. And this was the universe giving me a do-over. And tranquility washes over me. My chest grows tight.
Picking up my phone, I read the message Gabe just sent me. [Thinking of you Meg. Goodnight]
It irritates me. The source of my problems is him. In the future, I was heartbroken- not because I was in love with him- I was not, but he left me but because I felt betrayed. He'd given me a ring to symbolize our promise. We had taken vows- a promise for better or worse and he went back on it. There was no worse for us- he was the issue in our marriage. Him and this Cassandra.
My blood begins to boil. But I'm not only angry...I'm filled with a searing, gut-wrenching ache also that burns in my chest. My nails dig into my palms by my side, and I stare up at the ceiling fan as it whirls.
My breathing becomes shorter, quicker. My chest burns.
It's like a cruel joke, our vows. 'For better or worse.' I remember the way he had looked sincerely into my eyes, held my hands, and swore to stand by me and then he walked away the moment Cassandra reentered his life, discarding me and our baby.
How could he discard our baby? An innocent in our adult game?
Suddenly I cannot breathe and my chest feels like a vice is clamping down on it, squeezing the air from my lungs. My heart races, pounding so hard it feels like it might shatter my ribs. My vision blurs as my hands tremble uncontrollably and a cold sweat drenches my skin. I cannot breathe. Each gasp feels too shallow, too desperate. My thoughts spiral, frantic and other rich. And I'm drowning in an invisible tide I cannot escape.
How very selfish of Gabe. The first night I have settled my mind, he comes in to destroy my peace.
"Megara!" I hear Zulu's yell which seems to have come from so far away, but I can see her stricken expression above me as I lay on my bed, wide-eyed and heaving.
--
The setting sun is warm on my face, a soft breeze teasing the strands of my hair, lifting them gently before letting them fall. Gabe sits across from me on the checkered blanket, one leg stretched out, the other bent at the knee. His gray eyes catch the sunlight, a shade lighter today.
We were on our first date.
Gabe and I had never done this during our marriage. Have a picnic. In fact, we have done nothing except work together, eat, sleep, and take vacations- but the vacations weren't touchy-feely. They were very stiff if compared to this.
The park is busy at the other end with the amusement set up with the slides and such, for the toddlers with the occasional laughter of children in the distance and birds chirping in the trees. We are in the moved grassy section with the other couples and other young adults and teenagers, all laid out on their blankets and chairs.
Gabe hands me a bottle of sparkling water, his fingers brushing mine briefly. I notice how calm he looks, how his expression holds no trace of tension. It's a stark contrast to how I've felt for months- like I've been walking a tightrope.
"You look different," he says, leaning back on his hands, his gray eyes studying me. Of course, I had not seen him since the garage sale, three weeks ago. I had been in quiet-mode enjoying what I hoped was not limited time with my family. But it seems that both mom and Avrielle are here to stay.
"Different how?" I ask, trying to act casual, though the intensity of his gaze makes my skin prickle.
"Reposed," he replies, tilting his head slightly. "More serene. Like you've finally exhaled after holding your breath for too long."
I sip the water to buy myself time, letting his words sink in. He's not wrong, I feel like I can breathe without the crushing weight of what could have happened suffocating me. I have worked past his betrayal of me which never happened. It also meant that I had to work out the same issues with Zulu and Dan, which I did. Zulu had worked through the panic attack I had more than a month ago. I mean, she could have left me there to freak out on my own after the cold way I had treated her, but she had not. She was the same Zulu I had known, pre-Dan of course.
Gabe leans forward, his elbow brushing the blanket. "How long has it been since the accident?"
My fingers tighten around the bottle. The words strike me, and for a moment, all I can hear is the distant rustling of leaves and the faint clicking of someone's shoes on the path nearby. I lift my eyes to meet his, my heart racing.
"How do you know about that?" I ask, my voice steady, though there's a current of something sharper beneath it.
He doesn't flinch, just watches me with quiet patience. "I know because of the way you've been acting," he shares. "I figured it was PTSD. I think you should have seen a professional about it, but you seem fine now."
I blink, trying to process his words. PTSD? My mind races, searching for the connection he's made. A feel a split-second sense of betrayal towards Zulu, seeps inside me. First Dan now Gabe? "What do you mean, PTSD?" I probe, my heart, speeding up, setting the bottle down beside me. The cap rattles against the glass as it settles.
His brows furrow slightly, and he leans in, his tone gentle. "I know you've been in an accident recently, Meg. I know because of how strung out you were before like you were bracing yourself for something terrible to happen. And the way you were so protective of your mom and your twin… were they in it with you?"
His words hit me like a shockwave, but not for the reasons he thinks. My heart squeezes painfully as I realize he doesn't know the truth. He thinks I was in an accident and that it caused me trauma and I was acting out that trauma.
Bless his heart.
I reach for his hand, his well-manicured fingers curling slightly as I hold them in mine. His skin is warm, his grip firm yet gentle. My lips curve into a small, genuine smile, and I meet his gaze, trying to steady the emotion swirling inside me. Maybe this is why I felt so deeply by Gabriel's betrayal in our marriage. This side of him- this gentle soul of a man that I had unknowingly placed on a pedestal.
If he had been nasty towards me, I would have taken the separation easier, I guess.
"Thank you," I say softly. "For caring. For not leaving me to deal with it alone, even when I wasn't telling you what was wrong. And for giving me the space I needed." I've been ignoring his messages and calls these past weeks while I worked out my future memories and the present now. But, he had sent me messages, nevertheless, knowing I would not reply.
He told me about his day in one text message, every day before bed.
Something flickers in his eyes- an emotion I can't quite place, but it's comforting all the same. He squeezes my hand lightly in response, his thumb brushing over mine. But then my smile fades, the weight of my secret pressing down on me. I take a deep breath, bracing myself for what I'm about to say and busying myself with picking up our empty paper plates.
"Gabe," I begin, my tone serious, "if I told you something- something that sounds insane-would you believe me?" I cannot allow his parents to not be part of his life. Gabe is different from the man he is in the future and if I can save my family then why not his? It's safe, right? Nothing bad happened since I- well, Mon did burn herself when she forgot to wear mittens, and her exposed hands closed over the heated oven handle.
That's minor.
His brow furrows slightly, but he doesn't pull away. Instead, he nods, his gaze unwavering as I place our plates into the basket. "Yes. I would. Everything you say is serious to me, Meg."
I pat his arm lightly, trying to keep the moment light despite the heaviness in my chest. "I'm being very serious right now," I say, and he nods again, leaning in slightly, his full attention on me.
"I know," he says simply, his voice steady and he brushes my cheek with the back of his hand.
Wrestling with my thoughts, I glance away for a moment, my eyes scanning the swaying trees in the distance, and the families scattered across the park. I swallow hard, then turn back to him, locking eyes.
The breeze picks up, carrying with it the faint scent of a few days old cut grass. My hair whips across my face, and I brush it aside, catching Gabe's gaze once more.
"I think your dad should get tested for cancer," I drop the bomb, the words falling out in a rush before I can second-guess myself.