Unraveled

Chapter 3

The next morning dawned over Los Angeles with a washed-out sky, calm yet heavy. Beneath that quiet facade, Caleb's heart raced with apprehension. He made his way to a tucked-away café, a bohemian spot off the main drag, its charm underscored by the scent of fresh coffee and the soft hum of indie music. Sunlight filtered through lace curtains, casting patterns on worn wooden tables, but the inviting atmosphere did little to ease his unease.

When he stepped inside, he spotted Isabelle seated in a corner. Her chestnut hair fell over her shoulders, and she wore a simple floral dress. There was something grounding in her presence, yet Caleb felt no true familiarity beyond a deep, vague sense of connection—a whisper in the back of his mind that told him this woman was family.

"Caleb," she greeted, standing to give him a hug. Her embrace was brief, more reserved than he expected, though he wasn't sure why. Even the way she said his name carried a hint of distance, as though she, too, sensed the divide between them.

"Isabelle," he replied, the name feeling strange on his tongue. There was no warmth in the word, no memory to animate it, only the knowledge that they were cousins.

They took their seats, a tense silence settling between them. Caleb looked around the café, hoping the familiar space would offer a distraction. But Isabelle's gaze stayed on him, assessing. Her hazel eyes held the same intensity he imagined she'd always had, though he couldn't recall any past interactions.

After a moment, Isabelle folded her hands on the table, her fingers intertwined. "You called me Isabelle," she observed, her voice soft but edged with something more.

Caleb blinked, thrown by the comment. He hadn't noticed, but the way she pointed it out made his stomach twist.

"Yeah... I didn't think about it," he admitted, attempting a smile that felt entirely out of place.

Isabelle didn't return it. Her gaze narrowed, searching his face as though looking for something that should have been there. "You always call me Izzy. You've done that ever since we were kids."

Her words hung between them, weighty and charged. Caleb shifted, feeling how much was wrapped up in that small detail. He wanted to explain, to tell her what he couldn't remember, but the words wouldn't come. How could he admit he was drawing a blank on something as simple as a nickname?

"I've just... been off lately," he finally said, his eyes dropping to the table, where sunlight filtered in patterns too bright for his dazed mind. He felt like a stranger, an outsider looking in on a life he should remember.

Isabelle's expression softened slightly, her concern evident. "Off how? You barely answered my texts, and now it's like you're here, but you're not really here. It's like...I don't know you."

Her words hit harder than he'd expected, resonating with the unsettling truth he hadn't wanted to face. Caleb fumbled for an explanation that wouldn't reveal his blank mind, the way even the basics of their relationship felt hazy.

"I've just been...busy," he said, though he knew how flimsy it sounded even as he said it.

Isabelle shook her head, her expression shifting from frustration to worry. "This isn't about being busy, Caleb. Something's going on. I can feel it." She leaned forward, the warmth in her gaze piercing through the gap between them. "I'm not angry; I'm worried. If you won't tell me what's going on, I can't help."

Caleb clenched his jaw, debating how much to share. He cared about Isabelle—he knew he did, even if he couldn't remember exactly why. But the distance between them felt too vast to bridge, especially with someone like Aubrey offering understanding without the probing questions.