Better Than Losing You

Chapter 3

Searching for any logical excuse, Gray tried harder than ever to recall the previous night. First, he'd arrived at the bar. Second, he'd taken a couple of shots. There, things began to get fuzzy. Had there been anyone he'd spoken to? No, he didn't think so. What about the reverse? Had anyone spoken to him? After thinking hard for a moment, he suddenly remembered. Yes, there had been one person – a man clad all in black with a mask over his face and a hat on his head. Although Gray couldn't recall anything about the conversation, he remembered the man's presence well. He'd seemed foreboding, almost supernatural. All in all, he was the perfect suspect. Perhaps he'd been the one to slip the watch into his pocket.

Turning it about and observing its polished edges, Gray noticed a few curving lines engraved on the back. They spelled a single, elaborately written sentence: That the past may be changed. He hadn't noticed these words before, and he wondered if they represented some hidden meaning.

"That the past may be changed," he said slowly, pondering the words. If the watch allowed the owner to stop time, maybe there was more it could do.

Perhaps, he thought. It can do more than simply freeze the present. What if... what if it can wind time back?

The idea was absurd, but then again, hadn't this entire day been rather fantastical? The watch could halt time – was it that unbelievable that it might be able to reverse it as well? The more Gray thought about it, the more probable it seemed. It was obviously more complex than other normal watches, and it showed the time with ridiculous accuracy.

Suddenly, Gray realized that he'd be late for work if he dallied any longer. Throwing himself together in a rush, he pulled on a fresh outfit, tamed his unruly black hair, and sailed out the door. When he arrived at the coffee shop where he served as a barista, he got to thinking again about the watch.

What would he do if his theory was correct and it turned out to be a time-machine? Would he tell anyone about it? No, likely not. Would he even keep it and use it? That depended on if there was anything in the past he wanted changed.

At that moment, his phone began to ring. Since it was still early and nobody had stopped in yet, Gray decided to answer it. When he saw the name of the contact, his heart sank.

"Hello?" he said monotonously.

"Hey, Gray," came the voice of a middle-aged woman. "How are you doing today?" Her pleasant voice was saturated with subtle grief.

"I'm alright," responded Gray as images of his ex-fiancé ran through his head. The woman on the other side of the line was her mother. "What about you?"

"I'm doing as well as I can for someone who just lost their only child," she replied, a waver running through her words.

Even though no one was there to see, Gray tried to suppress his tears. He couldn't stand it. Why did Claire have to die and leave him all alone? Why did her parents and family have to suffer through such a tragedy?

Suddenly, a customer came through the door.

"Can I call you back later?" Gray sighed. "I've got to work."

"Of course, hon," responded Claire's mother. "Whenever you're available."

"Okay. Talk to you later, then."

The customer was an excited, older woman who seemed very keen on striking up a conversation. Gray tried to act interested as she jabbered on and on about nothing, but his mind was far away. The only thing he could think about was the watch.

"That the past may be changed," he muttered to himself.

"Sorry?" asked the woman, leaning over the counter to hear him better. "I didn't quite catch that."

"Oh," said Gray, plastering on a shiny smile. "I was just trying to remember how much milk to add to your drink."

"Ah, I won't bother you then. But say, speaking of dairy, have you noticed how much the prices of organic whole milk went up recently? I was talking to my sister the other day about it and she said..."

Gray didn't listen to the rest. He was entirely uninterested in fluctuations of grocery prices. The words written on the back of the watch hammered into his brain: that the past may be changed. What could it mean?

Suddenly, a face crossed his mind: the man from the bar, clad all in black, staring directly at him with eerie, deep-gray eyes.

Do you really mean it? Would you really do anything?

"That's what he said!" Gray breathed to himself, finally recalling the entire conversation from the previous night. "I said I'd do anything to save her." His mind raced faster than he could properly think.

This can't possibly be a coincidence. That man, Wyrd, or whoever he really was – he's got something to do with this. He snuck me the watch, of that I can be almost totally sure. "That the past may be changed?", "Would you really do anything?". They've got to be connected somehow.

A gust of wind suddenly blew through an open window, chilling Gray to the bone. Goosebumps sprang up on his arms, but he didn't think it had anything to do with the cold.

"Brrr!" exclaimed the chatty woman, receiving her drink as he absentmindedly handed it to her. "What a breeze! Nothing like what the forecast predicted." She smiled broadly. "I'll be going now, ah – ," she glanced at Gray's name tag. "Grayson! What a nice name. Well, I hope you have a great day, Grayson. Thank you for the drink. My, it's good! I'll be sure to come back some time."

With a final smile, she waved to Gray and headed out, leaving him alone in the coffee house. However, he was too deep in thought to notice.

"That watch isn't ordinary," he murmured, staring out the window blankly. "And I think there's a reason why it ended up with me."

Another customer suddenly walked in, cutting his thought short. Trying to be as pleasant as possible, he took their order. As he started making it, his jaw set into a determined line. There was no point in letting that watch's powers go to waste. As soon as he got home, he would try to turn back time. There was something he wanted changed, and he would do anything to make it come true. He would save Claire. He would turn back time and prevent the accident from occurring.