Chapter 43 Cam
43 Cam
“We’ve actually met before this year,” Noelle says. “I was stuck reliving the same day over and over, and in many of those repeats, I saw you.”
“You’re saying you were trapped in a time loop?”
“Yes.”
I’m not sure what I expected her to tell me, but it certainly wasn’t that. It usually takes quite a bit to shock me into silence, but she’s succeeded.
“On June twentieth, I was working late, and I didn’t feel like cooking, so I went to a night market that was happening at Mel Lastman—the one you mentioned when we walked by. I ate some dumplings, and the next day, it was June twentieth again. But nobody had any knowledge of the previous June twentieths except me—and Avery, as I later learned. She was also repeating the day.”
“How do I fit into this?” I ask.
“The first time I saw you was at the market. I was having a bit of a breakdown, owing to the whole trapped-in-a-time-loop thing, and you asked if I was okay. Another time, I saw you at a bubble tea shop. You were kind and good-looking and I thought maybe if you kissed me, it would break the curse. Like a fairy tale.”
Speechless, I gesture with my mug for her to continue.
“So I kept trying to talk to you,” she says. “I knocked into you with my bubble tea for a cute-yet-disastrous meeting. We never kissed any of those times, but one day, I randomly walked into Leaside Brewing, and there you were. I flirted with you, and you gave me your number. We went on a date. Every morning, though, I had to start over because you didn’t know who I was, although I did give you a strong sense of déjà vu, and on a few occasions, you got close to guessing my name. You could also remember minor things about me, like my preferred beer, even if you weren’t aware of having met me before.”
“And you were doing that all in the hopes that I’d kiss you and send you back to your usual reality.”
“Well, at first, but I did like you, and even once I discovered that the kiss didn’t work, I kept returning. We went on dozens of first dates.” She describes many of them.
“Where was our first kiss?” I ask.
“Behind a building… near the market… after I had halo-halo.” She points to the untouched leche flan on the coffee table.
I shut my eyes and try to picture the kiss. I can conjure up an image, but it’s not a memory. Yet at the same time, there’s something familiar about it.
“I’d sworn off relationships after what happened with my ex,” Noelle says, “but I thought it was safe with you. You couldn’t remember, so it couldn’t be a real relationship. Except I began to care for you.”
“Okay,” I say slowly. “How did you get out of the loop?”
“One day, it just ended, and rather than being June twenty-first, it was January. The real world had moved on while I was in the loop, but I didn’t remember it. It’s like there was a different version of me that was living that life, and I can’t access the memories.” She pauses. “Anyway, I found you again, and we had a conversation similar to one we’d had many times before… and it was a novelty to have you actually remember my name.”
“Did we ever sleep together when you were in the time loop?”
She nods. “I didn’t want to do it until you knew about the loop—it felt dishonest—so I told you. The fact that I could ‘predict the future,’ such as it was, seemed to convince you.”
“Then the next day—in your reality—I didn’t remember that conversation. I didn’t even remember your name.”
“Correct.”
I sip my coffee and run a hand through my hair. It’s pretty obvious why Noelle was nervous about telling me this. It’s one ridiculous story.
“Did you like living in the loop?” I ask.
“Ha. Well, I enjoyed the lack of consequences at times—money didn’t matter—but I wanted to find a way out. I wanted to live real life again.”
“You’re sure the dumplings are what caused it?”
“Yes. We found the woman’s daughter. She said her mom could manipulate time. We met with her on Friday—that’s why I couldn’t talk to you.”
“Sorry, I, um, need a moment to process all this.”
“That’s fine. I know it’s a lot.” Noelle’s trying to be calm, but her voice is shaking.
It all sounds impossible. I’d be a fool to believe it, wouldn’t I?
And yet…
I’m struggling to doubt the sincerity in her voice. Besides, why would she make up something like this? It must be true, yet how can it be?
But in some ways, it fits. There are the odd feelings I occasionally have with Noelle, for example, which is why I said that I feel like I knew in her in a previous life. Maybe my subconscious is aware of this alternate reality, even if I have no clear memory of it. She had a strange reaction when I said those words, and now, that slots into place.
“If you’d never been in the time loop,” I say, “we never would have spoken to each other.”
“That’s right. Flirting isn’t something that comes naturally to me, but in the loop, I had the opportunity to mess up without you remembering.” She takes my hands in hers. “Trust me. I wouldn’t be telling you this if it weren’t true, and I didn’t hallucinate it, I swear. You can talk to Avery. Ask her anything you want. She experienced the same thing as me—we both ate the dumplings that night.”
I shake my head, and her expression—her whole body—drops.
“No, no,” I rush to say. “It’s not that I don’t believe you. It’s just… I don’t think there’s anything I need to ask your friend.”
“You really believe me?” Her words are tentative, hopeful.
“Yeah.” Even if I can’t fully explain why. In my world, we might not have been on many dates, but I feel, in my bones, like I know her—and I know she wouldn’t tell fantastical tales. I have to believe her, especially with those feelings of déjà vu.
And if I go back to last year, there were a few instances when I felt like I was missing someone without knowing who she was. That must have been Noelle, who would have been stuck in the loop then. Some other version of me would have already met her.
“Does it bother you,” she says, “that you can’t remember what I remember?”
“I wish it were otherwise, but I can manage.”
“I wouldn’t believe it if I hadn’t lived through it myself, and I still don’t like that I can’t fully understand how it happened.”
“That’s okay. Some things you can’t fully explain.” Like when a note in a song makes you cry, and it feels like magic. “That’s just the way it is. I think love often has some element of that.”
While I didn’t say that I love her, I still used the L-word. It’s a scary word for some people. Perhaps I shouldn’t even be thinking it when we’ve only been on a handful of dates. Except it’s actually dozens of dates, even if I can’t remember them, and maybe that explains my feelings.
“Anything else you want to tell me?” I set my coffee down and pull her into my lap. “Are you actually an alien princess from another galaxy?”
“You really believe me.” It’s not a question this time, but there’s wonder in her voice.
I don’t have any more words to assure her, so I tighten my arms around her and nuzzle the crook of her neck. More than ever before, it feels like a miracle that she’s here . With me.
She’s the one who begins the kiss, her lips moving urgently over mine.
“Cam,” she says.
Nothing more, just my name, and I think of all the times I must have introduced myself to her, unaware that she already knew who I was. It’s remarkable and ridiculous, all at the same time.
But the fact that I was still able to subconsciously recall things like her taste in beer? It’s like some part of me was trying, desperately, to hold on to the memory of her.
Maybe because, as I thought before, we really do just fit.
I take her to the bedroom, where I strip off her shirt and her bra. I grin when I look down at her, topless below me.
“Cam,” she says again, with more desperation in her voice.
She didn’t have to tell me, but I’m glad she did. I know sharing something like that takes a lot of guts, and she might not see herself as gutsy, but I do.
I dip my head and take one of her nipples in my mouth, and then I begin working at the button and zipper on her jeans.
“I need you,” she says.
“I know, sweetheart.” As I say those words, I feel like I know it in more than the here and now; I know it deep in my bones.
When I slide two fingers inside her, she arches against me and moans. I tug off the rest of her clothes, and then I set my mouth on her. I’ve been dreaming of tasting her again since Monday; I’ve thought about it far too much when I was in my office at work.
I lift my head. “Did we ever have sex in my office?”
“Once. The first time.”
I grin. “Was it hot?”
“Yeah. It was… ahhhh.” She groans as I lick her clit.
I love that her noises aren’t shy and tentative. I smile against her before I cup her ass and get down to business. Within a few minutes, she’s gripping and twisting the sheets, and I know she’s getting close.
I shuck off my clothes and roll on a condom. She pushes me onto my back, then lowers herself onto me in one smooth move. I hiss out a breath and look up at her, gorgeous and riding my cock.
I still don’t understand how I could ever forget this. Even if it was some other version of me who experienced it, I don’t understand.
But it doesn’t matter. I have her now.
As she rides me, I try to tell her that. In the way I move with her. In the way I admire her in the late afternoon light, then pull her against me because I need to kiss her. I put everything I can into it, and she finds her release as her lips and chest are pressed against my own.
I don’t have complete knowledge of what happened in our relationship, but being together like this… I feel complete.
Pressure builds inside me, and I whisper her name as I come.
“Noelle.”
I know I’ll never forget it again.
Afterward, we lounge in bed. I’m content to laze here with Noelle as long as I can… until my stomach grumbles.
“Oops.” I look at the clock. “Just realized I forgot to eat lunch today.” I was so focused on her impending visit that I couldn’t think about food. “You hungry?”
“After all the work I just did? You bet.” She’s playful and relaxed, unlike when she arrived here an hour ago.
We take our time putting on our clothes, then venture to the kitchen. Justin isn’t home yet—he’ll be at the brewery for at least another hour.
“We still have the leche flan,” she says, “but I’d like something with less sugar first.”
“Dumplings?” Thanks to her story, dumplings are on my mind.
“Sure.”
I open my freezer. I have the regular dumplings that I buy at the Asian supermarket, and I also have two bags of homemade dumplings from the fall. A part of me wants to save them, but if I wait much longer, they’ll get freezer burn. Besides, it feels right to eat them with Noelle.
I take them out. “My grandma and I made these together, just before she got sick. This is the closest you can come to meeting her now—eating something she made.” Despite my smile, my voice wavers, and Noelle squeezes my shoulder.
I put some oil in a frying pan and cook the dumplings until they start to brown. Then I add some water and cover the pan with a lid. As I wait for the dumplings to finish cooking, I wrap my arms around Noelle’s waist.
“Did I ever make you dumplings before?” I ask.
She shakes her head.
“I apologize for my sins,” I say with a laugh.
I can’t seem to stop touching her. I lift the lid to check how the dumplings are doing, then replace it and return my hand to her waist. I went almost a week without being able to touch her, and that was far too long. I’m tempted to kiss her, but I’m worried if I do, I’ll burn the dumplings, and that seems sacrilegious.
After all, I can’t get more of these.
Eventually, the water has evaporated and they’re the perfect color. I deposit six in a shallow bowl for Noelle, the other six in a bowl for me, then get out the condiments.
We sit down at the table where we ate takeout last weekend, and I smile at her before reaching for a dumpling with my chopsticks and blowing on it. Noelle hasn’t picked up any of her dumplings yet, but she could be afraid of burning her mouth.
I bite into the dumpling, the juicy meat-and-vegetable filling taking me back to when I last ate dumplings with my grandmother, right after we made them. Back when I didn’t know how little time she had left.
Then the strangest thing happens. There’s a sharp pain in my head, and I choke down the rest of the dumpling and put a hand to my forehead.
“What’s wrong?” Noelle’s voice seems far away.
“I… I don’t know.”
It feels like someone’s zapping my brain. I drop my chopsticks, squeeze my eyes shut, and curl up on the chair.
“Cam?”
And then, as quickly as it appeared, the pain vanishes. It’s like the sun appearing after a storm, and I feel different.
“Holy shit,” I whisper.
New memories fill my mind. Some of them are things Noelle told me about earlier, but now I know details that weren’t in my imagination before.
The taste of her mouth after eating halo-halo.
The breeze on my face as we ate and drank on the patio at the izakaya.
Her ass on my desk at work as I knelt between her legs.
“What is it?” she asks. Not in my memory, but in person.
“Holy shit,” I repeat, opening my eyes and looking at her. I can’t piece together the order in which everything happened, but it’s all gloriously vivid. “I remember .”