Inside Gabe's bedroom, I sit on the edge of his bed, staring at my hands, which twist the hem of my sweater. The fabric feels thin and frayed beneath my fingers, much like my resolve. The room's silence is heavy, but it doesn't compare to the weight of Gabe's stare. He's standing across from me, arms folded tightly, his usually calm gray eyes stormy with confusion.
I know what he is about to say because of our conversation in the diner we just ate at. When he suggested we come to his place after, I hesitated because I knew this was coming.
"Meg," he begins, his voice low but intense as he unbuttoned the top buttons of his crisp rose color shirt. "I need to know the truth." He pulls out the chair from his desk and sits quietly down. His expression is stricken. "How did you know about my dad? How could you possibly know something that no one else did?"
My throat tightens. I knew this confrontation would come, but I was still unprepared for the ache that blooms in my chest. "I just... I can't explain it, Gabe," I murmur, avoiding his eyes. I mean I could but I can't is how I feel. He won't get it. He might pin me for crazy... he already thought my behavior was irrational before.
"Yes, you can." His voice rises slightly, though it's not out of anger. It's desperation. "You speak as if you know things- things no one else could. You predicted my dad's diagnosis. You mentioned Cassandra like... like you already know her and nobody you know does, so don't even try that tactic. And I never left my phone unattended and besides you don't know the password."
"3,5,9,4."
His eyes widen. I know it because it is the number in his car now, minus the letters. He had told me just after we married about his car and how much he loved it. He had also confided in me that it was his password for everything. But that was not the case now, he was right. I never took up his phone to search it, nor did my circle of friends interact with the class of Cassandra.
We were second and she was filthy rich.
"And the way you act sometimes it's like you've already lived through everything. How, Meg? Do you see things? Sense them?" He continues talking, glancing down at his shoes then lifting his eyes back up to me where I begin fidgeting again. This time my nail chewing.
I flinch at his words, my heart racing. My head dips lower as I exhale shakily. "It's not like that," I whisper. He thinks I am psychic.
"Then explain it to me!" he pleads, moving closer to the edge of his seat before he rushes to his feet, hands going to both his temples, then passing through his thick short dark hair. His shoes click softly against the floor, and the sound feels magnified by the tension. "Because I'm losing my mind trying to figure it out. I need to understand, Meg."
I look up, and the intensity of his expression steals my breath. His face is drawn, his brows furrowed deeply, and his jaw is tight. His vulnerability is etched in every line of his features, and it makes my resolve crumble. With the torment of his father's ailment, I cannot imagine what he is going through right now. But I imagine his mind is whirling with so many different possibilities of how and why. "I can't lie to you," I say finally, my voice trembling. "Not anymore." I should ease his burdens, shouldn't I?" I obviously cannot ease the one about his parent.
He nods, his posture stiffening as if bracing himself. "Then don't."
Taking another deep breath, I grip the edge of his bed for support. "You're right." Once again, I wrestle for a few seconds with what words to use or how to even begin to explain this to him. "First," I blow out a deep breath, nodding my head at nothing but my spinning thoughts. "You must be open-minded."
He frowns and nods.
"Really open-minded Gabe."
Again, he nods but this time vertical lines form between his eyes, making his appearance all the more attractive. Concentrate, I scold myself.
Letting go of my fear od his judgement, I attempt to speak calmly but fail. "I've lived through everything. I've lived through you, Gabe. Through us. And then... I lost it all."
He blinks, confusion flickering in his eyes. "What do you mean, 'lived through me' Meg? That doesn't make any sense."
"I mean exactly that," I say, my voice cracking. "I don't know how or why, but I've been here before- ten years from now is my time." My eyes grow teary, and I pull in my lips for a bit. "Intoxicated and racing home. And Dad never recovered from it. He was a shell, Gabe!"
"Megara- what? Nothing is making sense of what you are saying." There's a trace of impatience in his tone but I understand it.
"My mother- she died." My voice begins to crackle. "Avrielle died too. And I had to come back with that and see them alive after ten years..." I stare at his shoes hearing his sharp indrawn breath. Maybe he thinks I belong to the psych ward, I don't know but I cannot stop talking now that I have started. "Together actually in a car crash- stupid teenage-" I pause to wipe my wet cheeks. " You and I were married for five years."
His eyes widen in disbelief. "Married?"
"Yes," I say, my heart pounding. "We build a life together. We love each other, or at least I thought we did. But then you left me."
The words hang in the air like a thunderclap. His face pales, and he takes a small step back as if physically recoiling from the revelation.
"I- left you?" he repeats, his voice barely above a whisper. He begins to pace again and pauses to gape at me. I can see the wheels behind his gray eyes turning.
"Not just me." My voice shakes, and tears sting my eyes as I force the words out. "You left me pregnant, Gabe. I was carrying your child, and you walked away. For her."
He looks utterly horrified, his lips parting as though to protest, but no words come out. His hands rise and fall uselessly at his sides. "Cassandra," he whispers hoarsely as if it all made sense.
"Yes," I say bitterly, the name tasting sour on my tongue even if I had not said it. "You fell in love with her, and I wasn't enough for you anymore. So, you left me to pick up the pieces of our shattered life."
"No," he breathes, shaking his head. "Meg, I would never-"
"You did," I interrupt, my voice rising as the dam of my emotions breaks. "You did, Gabe. You looked me in the eyes and told me you loved her. You moved out of our house while I was still carrying your baby." I did not have the heart to tell him his cruel words to me pertaining to the baby.
His expression is stricken, as if I've struck him physically. "I-I don't understand. I would never do that to you."
"But you did!" I cry out loud, tears streaming down my face now. "And the worst part is, I still fell in love with you. Even after everything, I loved you, again with my do-over in life."
He drops to his knees in front of me, taking my trembling hands in his. His touch is warm, but I can feel the slight tremor in his grip. "Meg, listen to me," he says, his voice raw with emotion. "I don't know what you've been through, but I swear to you, I would never hurt you like that. I couldn't. You mean everything to me."
I shake my head, my vision blurred by tears. "You did, Gabe. You don't understand how much it broke me. You were here one day then gone."
His breath hitches, and his eyes glisten as he stares up at me. "Meg," he whispers, his voice cracking. "I-"
"I'm terrified," I admit, my voice barely audible. "Terrified that it's going to happen all over again. That I'm going to lose you."
He cups my face with his hands, his thumbs gently brushing away my tears. "Look at me," he says firmly, his voice steady despite the emotion in his eyes. "I don't know what kind of future you saw-"
"Saw? I f#cking lived it!"
Recovering quickly from his wrong choice of words, he exclaims, "Baby, I swear to you, I would never abandon you. I could never love anyone the way I love you. Not Cassandra, not anyone."
The sincerity in his gaze makes my heart ache. "You did, Gabe," I whisper, my voice breaking. "You did love her. And it destroyed me." Even our baby gave up on life when he left us, but I do not tell him that ruthless bit.
His hands fall away, and he sits back on his heels, his head hanging low. "I don't know how to fix this," he says softly. "I don't even know how to prove to you that I won't make the same mistakes."
I stare at him, my chest tightening. His vulnerability is so raw, so genuine, that it leaves me breathless.
He looks up at me, his eyes filled with pain and determination. "I'll spend the rest of my life proving it to you," he says firmly.
And for the first time, I feel a flicker of hope amid my despair.
"So you were PTSD because your mother and twin- God baby, you lived through that alone..." He furrowed his forehead as if things started falling into place. "No wonder you were that way, geez." He pulls me in and kisses my forehead.