Page 103 of Time Loops & Meet Cutes
Tell him. Take a risk, a part of me says.
But although the time loop made me more comfortable taking risks, I’m not in the loop anymore, and this seems like a step too far.
When I was a kid, I watched a movie whose main message was that you should seize the day and face your fears. The main character upgraded to a first-class plane ticket when he couldn’t afford it, and this was supposed to be a good thing?Carpe diemseemed like an excuse to defend bad choices.
There’s nothing wrong with the fact that I’ve always been alittle cautious. I shouldn’t feel the need to become a completely different person.
I won’t tell Cam.
Except how can we stay together if I’m keeping a big secret from him, the secret of dozens of first dates? It seems like too much, and I know it will continue to eat away at me. I can’t do that long-term. With my extra knowledge about him, I feel like I have the ability to manipulate him, perhaps even unintentionally, and I don’t want that.
If only I’d bothered, back on a June 20 when I’d told him the truth, to ask what I should say once I got out of the time loop—what I should say to get him to believe me. But I didn’t have the forethought to do that, since it was hard to think beyond June 20 when I wasn’t sure I’d ever escape it.
I roll away from the man next to me with a sigh, my heart heavy. He’s sleeping peacefully, while I’m doing anything but. Time is advancing normally now, but I feel trapped by what happened to me, trapped by the past.
I don’t check the mail every day. I get most of my important stuff electronically, and I stopped checking it entirely when I was in the loop. But after work on Tuesday, I give my mailbox a look. To my surprise, there’s a pale pink envelope. I don’t pay attention to the return address, just tear it open as I wait for the elevator. My eyes widen.
Dave is gettingmarried?
It’s one of those invitations with the year written out in words, in an intricate font. I skim the details as I ride the elevator.Why didn’t I know about this?
After unlocking the door to my apartment, I set down my bag and take a seat on the futon. Avery is in the shower. I read the invitation over and over, then pull out my phone and scrollto my text history with Dave. The last one is dated five months ago. I’m not sure why I didn’t notice it earlier. Maybe because it’s in between a couple of two-factor authentication messages?
DAVE: I’m engaged, and we’re getting married next year.
DAVE: Just wanted you to hear it from me, instead of someone else.
ME: Oh, congrats!!
DAVE: No hard feelings, right?
ME: Of course not! I’m happy for you.
As I read what I apparently wrote months ago, I wonder how this news affected me. It doesn’t hurt now, not in the way it once would have. I’m more frustrated that I’m was caught off guard because I don’t remember half of last year. Also, why the hell did he send me an invitation? Is it a huge wedding, and he’s inviting everyone he’s ever known? That seems unlikely, but he certainly didn’t invite me because we remained friends. Ha! We did not.
Or perhaps he wants to rub it in my face? Show me that he’s happy without me?
No, that doesn’t sound like something Dave would do.
Yet I don’t really know him. I mean, I did, once upon a time. Though after he dumped me—something I didn’t see coming at all—I wondered how well I really knew him, and the knowledge I had has been tinged by my former heartbreak. And over time, it feels like he’s become a blank space in my mind.
I’m over him now. Truly. I just feel rather annoyed.
Avery comes out of the washroom in a bathrobe, a towel wrapped around her hair. “Hey, you’re home! How was your night?” She waggles her eyebrows, then frowns. “What’s wrong?”
I hand over the invitation. “My ex invited me to his wedding. I didn’t even know he was getting married because… you know.”
She nods sympathetically. “That asshole.”
I manage a watery chuckle and show her my texting history with Dave.
She reads it out loud. “?‘No hard feelings, right?’ He just phrased it like that so you’d agree with him—it would be awkward to contradict him afterward.”
Avery is frustrated with men in general at the moment, so maybe I shouldn’t put much stock in her words, but still, it’s good to hear her say that.
“I also…” I swallow. “Last night was good, but I don’t know if I can stay with Cam.” Saying it out loud… it makes me want to crumple. It makes the uncertainty of our future feel more real, but what does “real” even mean?
“Why not?”
