One Chris

Chapter 9

Chris sat on the edge of his bed, his mind spinning from the intense conversation he'd just had with Wyatt. He had poured out his heart, revealing the fragments of memories that had resurfaced, the confusion and the powerful feelings he still harbored for Eve. It was a raw and cathartic experience, leaving him both relieved and emotionally drained. He had been holding it all in for too long, afraid of the pain, afraid of what it might mean. But Wyatt's words had struck a chord deep within him.

"... But they're not just memories—they're emotions, too. Every time I remember something, it's like I'm living it all over again, feeling everything I felt back then." Chris paused, his voice trembling slightly.

Wyatt listened attentively, offering his brother a steady presence through his torrent of emotions. He leaned back in his chair, absorbing everything he had just said. "Chris, you've been through something unimaginable. Losing your memories, forgetting the person you love—it's not something you can just move past overnight. But the fact that you're starting to remember, that you're feeling all of this again... it means that the connection you had with Eve, it's still there. It's not gone."

"But what if it's too late?" Chris asked, his voice tinged with fear. "What if she's moved on? What if I've lost her forever?"

Wyatt shook his head. "You haven't lost her, Chris. Yeah, she's hurt, but that doesn't mean she doesn't care about you anymore. You just need to give her time. And in the meantime, you need to keep fighting for her, for the memories you shared."

Chris's face fell. "You don't understand. When I tried to see her, she hid from me. She made herself invisible. I don't think she wants to see me at all. And honestly, I can't blame her..."

Wyatt insisted, his tone firm, "You've faced demons, traveled through time, and fought to save the people you love. This is just another battle, but it's one you don't have to fight alone. Don't give up on Eve."

Chris felt a tear slip down his cheek, and he quickly wiped it away, ashamed of showing such vulnerability. But Wyatt reached out, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"It's okay to be scared," Wyatt said gently. "It's okay to be unsure. But don't let that stop you from going after what you want, what you need. Eve is worth fighting for, and so are you."

"But... what can I do if she doesn't want to see me at all?"

Wyatt frowned but nodded thoughtfully. "Maybe I can help. I could try to speak with Eve, see if I can convince her to give you another chance to talk. Sometimes, hearing it from someone else might make a difference."

The suggestion struck a chord with Chris. He felt a surge of gratitude and hope. Tentatively, he reached out and pulled Wyatt into a hug. Wyatt stiffened momentarily, caught off guard by the gesture. Hugs and displays of affection were rare between them.

"Thanks, Wyatt," Chris said softly, his voice carrying a mix of relief and appreciation. "It means a lot to me. I never thought I'd be so grateful to have a brother, especially after everything that's happened."

Wyatt relaxed into the embrace, a genuine smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "It's okay. I know I'm not the easiest person to get along with in every reality, but I want to help. And it's nice to know that you're happy to have me around."

Chris pulled away, a hint of embarrassment in his eyes. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable..."

Wyatt shook his head, a reassuring smile on his face. "No need to apologize. I'm here for you. Just take it easy and try to rest now. You did enough for today. I'll go see Eve and see if I can get her to listen."

With a nod of agreement, Chris settled back on his bed, trying to calm his racing thoughts. He took a deep breath, feeling a weight lift off his chest. Wyatt gave him a final reassuring pat on the shoulder before vanishing in a swirl of shimmering light.

Left alone, Chris felt a mixture of hope and anxiety. The conversation with Wyatt had opened a door, but the path ahead was still fraught with uncertainty. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, he allowed himself to hope that perhaps, just perhaps, there was a chance to mend what had been broken.