Better Than Losing You

Chapter 2

"Gray!"

At the voice, Gray's eyes shot open. He was in his own house, sprawled out on his bed.

"Grayson, what are you doing? Get ready! We have to be at the church in an hour!"

His jaw dropped open, shocked. "Claire?" he whispered, hurrying towards her voice. Sure enough, as he turned into the kitchen, she was there. She bustled about busily, checking her elaborately done makeup and fretting with her nails.

Gray felt tears well up in his eyes. "Claire," was all he could manage. "What – how?"

"Come on," she interrupted, taking his hand. "You haven't done anything yet! We've only got a few hours left, you know."

"Huh?" asked Gray, utterly baffled. "Church? Only a few hours left? What are you talking about?"

Claire laughed sweetly, her eyes shining. "It's our wedding day, silly! You poor thing. You look so frazzled and bewildered."

Indeed, Gray was more bewildered than he'd ever been in his life. How was she alive, right here before him? He was almost certain he'd spent the prior evening in a bar trying to forget her death.

"I called you three different times," Claire continued. "You didn't answer, so all I could think was that you were asleep." She tweaked his hair gently. "And just look, I was right." She grinned radiantly. "Isn't it good that I stopped by?"

Gray nodded numbly. He just couldn't believe that what he was seeing was real. Tears brimming in his eyes, he pulled Claire towards him and embraced her tightly.

"Gray, what's wrong?" she asked, alarmed. "Are you okay?"

He nodded, smiling through the tears. "Yes," he wavered. "I'm just fine."

It was just a dream. He thought. She never died. It was just an awful, nightmarishly-real dream.

He held onto Claire as tightly as possible. He was so relieved. Even though losing her had only been a dream, he couldn't bring himself to let her go. Then, suddenly, everything went black.

Tick, tick, tick, tick.

Gray's head roared with the fury of a thousand storms, and his breath reeked of liquor.

He opened his eyes. Sunlight streamed in through the window, and he realized he was in his own room. How on earth he'd arrived there, he didn't know. Sitting up and glancing around, he realized that it was nearly 8:00 in the morning. In the corner, his jacket from the night before hung neatly on a chair.

Rubbing his eyes, Gray sighed. What on earth had happened? He didn't remember a single thing from the previous evening except that he'd gone to the bar with the intention of losing his wits. Whatever he'd done, it had worked, as now his memory was gone and his head felt like an ax had cleaved it in half.

As his faculties slowly returned, a wave of emotional agony washed over him. This was the real world. Only moments before, he'd been dreaming. Claire was really gone. The girl he'd seen was a figment of his cruel imagination. There would be no wedding. The bride was gone.

Gray stifled a sob. Why did his mind torture him like this? It didn't seem fair.

Tick, tick, tick, tick.

And what was that incessant ticking? It continued, on and on, ceaselessly, until Gray thought he'd go insane. Pawing around, he irritably searched for its source. Eventually, he discovered it inside his jacket pocket. It was a watch – a very strange looking watch. It was full of gears, practically crammed with them. Also, not only did it show the hour, minute, and second, but it also displayed the year, month, and day.