For a brief moment, I wonder if he's ever looked up my name, scrolled through my photos, and thought about what could have been. The thought makes me scoff. Gabe moved on. He had to. It's what he does, isn't it? Still, my fingers hover over my phone, partaking in my delusion of him having blocked my number. Part of me wants to call him, to demand answers to questions I have no right to ask anymore. But I know better. Reopening old wounds won't change the past. Instead, I sit on the edge of my bed, clutching my phone tightly, ignoring the man's sleeping form next to me.
My thumb brushes over Gabe's contact, and I consider texting him, but I know it won't be delivered. With a deep breath, I set the phone aside. Tomorrow is a new day. I'll tell Avrielle about Cassandra and share my thoughts with someone who might understand. Or I'll let this moment fade, like so many others before it. Because as much as it hurts, I know one thing for certain: life goes on. It always does
I stare at the ceiling, the dim glow of the bedside lamp casting long shadows of restlessness. Sleep won't come tonight, not when my mind is so loud. Cassandra's photos are imprinted in my memory- the soft, warm glow of family life radiating from her. Or possibly Gabe's presence in her life secretly still. Or did the husband know and was in a forced marriage by tradition just like Cassandra? Another thought that burns my mind is maybe the husband was introduced to Gabriel as a friend, and he did not know of the affair between his wife and Gabriel.
Haunted by my trail of thinking, I open my laptop again and Cassandra's profile.
There was something in her eyes. Despite the smiles, despite the children, there was a shadow there. A weight, as though the life she had built wasn't entirely her own. Was it her marriage? The one she admitted was for obligation rather than love? I shake my head, frustrated with myself for caring. I rise from the bed, pacing the room. The cool hardwood under my feet does little to ground me. My hand brushes over the windowpane, and I stare out at the streetlights flickering in the distance. The past feels closer than it should, threatening to pull me back.
No, I push it aside. Let Cassandra and Gabe be happy, I scold myself. My mind is circulating on the conversation between them I had overheard, years ago. Where she told him she wanted to continue their relationship after her marriage.
That's real love, right? Not where I wanted Gabe all to myself... and him to me. That was selfish of me, right?
Gosh, I'm nauseous. I remind myself that I have moved on. That Gabe had moved on and I should focus on my partner.
Jeremy's steady presence even if we are just in the moment. But something about tonight feels raw, untouchable. This isn't something I can talk through or share with Jeremy. It's something I have to reconcile within myself. I grab my phone again, this time opening the message thread with Avrielle. She's been my rock through so much, she'd know what to say.
[Do you think people can move on too quickly?]
Avrielle replies instantly. [That's vague. Are we talking about you? Jeremy? Or someone else?]
I hesitate, my thumbs hovering over the screen. [Random thought. Night.]
I toss the phone onto the bed and sit on the floor, pulling my knees to my chest. The irony of it all isn't lost on me. I've been telling myself for years that I've moved on, that Gabe is a closed chapter, yet here I am, haunted by the shadow of what we were. But it's not just about him. It's about me. The girl I was ten years ago, optimistic, hopeful- even the one I am now feels like a stranger. I have yet to find a balance between what and who I used to be to what and who I am now. They're similar but not the same. Time has chipped away at her, replacing her with someone more cautious, more guarded. I've built walls around my heart so high, even Jeremy hasn't climbed them all... not that he will. He's too focused on his career as a singer in a leading band.
My thoughts drift back to Gabe. He was everything, and that was the problem. Loving him felt like standing in the eye of a hurricane- beautiful and terrifying all at once. I glance at the clock. 2:14 a.m. Jeremy will be awake in a few hours, and I'll have to put on my brave face again. The face I've perfected over the years, the one that says, "I'm fine" when I'm anything but. My phone buzzes, startling me. It's Avrielle.
[You okay?]
[Yeah, just restless]
[Call me if you need. Seriously. Liz, you and I should do a vacay with us alone before Liz becomes a Mrs.]
I consider calling Liz and having her revoke the invitation to her wedding to the Adkins, who have remained close with our parents over the years. The thought of seeing Gabriel again is what has me going in this downward spiral.
The Older Adkins beat me to it, though.
Liz told me Mom said Gabriel wouldn't make it to the wedding. He won't be able to get the time off from his busy schedule to make it to the wedding on time, was the reason they gave, and I felt the relief instantly easing from my head.
But I am also disappointed. I was curious about him and wished to see him again. It took the rejection of the invitation for me to admit that.
The next morning dawns crisp and clear, the kind of autumn day that begs for scarves and hot cocoa. I throw on a sweater and head out for a walk, needing the fresh air to clear my head. The park is quiet, save for the occasional jogger or dog walker. I find myself on the bench where Gabe and I once sat, talking about everything and nothing. My fingers trace the worn wood as if the memory is carved into it. I laugh bitterly at the irony of it all.
The girl who could see the future never saw this coming- losing him, losing us. My phone buzzes again, and I glance at the screen. It's Avrielle. "Hey," I answer, my voice steadier than I expected.
"Hey yourself. You sound like you've been crying," she says, her tone gentle but probing. "I'm fine," I lie to my other half. "Sure you are. Listen, I've been thinking…about what you said last night. People moving on too quickly."
"It's nothing," I interrupt, not ready to dive into the topic again.
"Well, if it's nothing, then you won't mind me saying this. Maybe it's not about moving on quickly. Maybe it's about moving on at all." Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. "Think about it," she continues. "Holding on to the past doesn't change it. And it doesn't help you build a future." I sit in silence, the weight of her words sinking in.
My future was technically my past. I'm letting what I know about Gabe of the future hinder what the Gabe of now is. Like me, they are two different people entirely. My sister is alive, my mother too, my father is the well, not the jolly man he never was but even him, he had changed too. In my future past my father, the financial advisor had been cool as a cucumber dad but not one of affection and since my return here, we have had parties and such.
It's the same with Gabriel. He had been affected by his father's death in the future. He had been reserved- cold even and now in this timeline, he was changed. He had the shock of finding his father's health was at risk but he'd also met me too- he was supposed to meet me years later.
I should have been more patient with Gabriel. He had always been introverted and I get why he wanted to hold on to Cassandra. She was his past. His root of whom he was. In the future this is how they bonded or reconnected- the death of his father and her husband. She had been like a lifeline to him.
But not anymore because Douglas is alive. Linda too.
"You're not wrong," I admit finally. "I know I'm not," she teases, lightening the mood. "Now, go do something that makes you happy today. And don't think too much."
"Easier said than done," I mutter, but I'm smiling.
I think my sister is correct however, we should do a mini-vaca with us three siblings. A cabin in the middle of a mountain and nothing but snow, hot cocoa, and us with nature and pinecones. A massive smile spreads across my face at that. Okay fine, that won't happen because the lodge we own is in a similar setting but it's near a village.
Plus, it's nice to have the warm familiar sounds of people in the background, the music, the old town's gossip- that Mr. Hale from the other end, took up shack with Betsy, his long-dead brother-in-law. That was what was the big topic in that town. The last time we'd been there was when I was seventeen, pre-college.
Unconsciously, I'd already been typing on my phone so I press send.