NOW.II

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NOW. II

Him

"Who's Paul?"

I looked back at Christine and resisted the urge to answer with: he's your husband. You meet in about five years, get married in three, visit the world for a while longer and then you are expecting a baby in early 2024.

"Just...someone from my nightmare," I replied.

"And Nat? Same thing?" she asked.

I nodded.

"You still don't want to talk about it? Your nightmare, I mean"

"It was just a silly dream, Chris. Nothing more to it."

"Seemed very real to you for just a silly dream, just saying."

"Nothing to worry about," I said.

It was Monday morning. Two days after I had woken up in 2012. I had spent the previous day in bed, trying to wrap my head around everything that was happening. I also spent the day trying to avoid Christine, who was just constantly looking for any excuse to have sex. Of course, we were in a relationship. I told myself bitterly that she had always been like that and not once, while we were together, did I ever complain about it. On the contrary. My fondest memories of her were the two of us in bed. Here she was, as per her usual, giving herself to me. I felt like such a hypocrite.

"Are you calling in sick, today?" she asked.

I was. I had to think for a while where I was working and what my job actually was. The concussion didn't help either. My phone did. I had notes, text messages with colleagues, meetings scheduled in my calendar. All the memories came rushing back thereafter.

I had a plan. There were a couple of things that I needed to check in order to really wrap my head around this whole situation. On Saturday I went to sleep praying and hoping that this was just a fucked-up dream and that I'm going to wake up back home, right beside Nat. No such luck.

While I was waiting for Christine to go to work, I kept scrolling my phone, amazed at how different it felt when compared to the one I had in 2024. It wasn't just the phone. Social media was so different as well. I had never realized that. I wasn't sure which one I preferred. Neither, if I'm really being honest. Then it struck me. I typed Nat's name in Instagram. Got a couple of hits, but she wasn't among them. I opened Facebook (that was a doozy) and did the same. And there she was. I couldn't believe it. I could barely see the photo, but it was her, alright. I sent her a friend request.

"Gotta go, handsome!"

Christine leaned on top of me and gave me a kiss. I tried to respond while also concealing what I was doing on the phone. As she got up, I could see it in her eyes. She was not buying it. She knew something was off. But that was a problem for another time.

As she was leaving, I jumped from the bed, beginning to get dressed while also checking the phone from time to time. No reply just yet.

I didn't remember her phone number, otherwise I would have tried calling immediately. What am I saying, I never knew it, let alone remember it. Who does nowadays?

I went to my computer and opened the betting site I had accessed on Saturday night, while Christine was sleeping. I had checked any sporting events that I could bet on, trying to remember said events from my initial 2012. The French Open finals were taking place the next day and I betted on Nadal winning it. The match started on Sunday but had to be postponed and resumed on Monday, due to rain. I didn't remember that particular detail, but I did remember Nadal winning the tournament. So, there I was, checking whether I was right.

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