Chapter Text
“Oh, sorry, miss.”
My heart slowly steadies as I adjust my grip on my coffee cup. “No, I’m sorry. I should have been paying more attention. It’s fine. No harm done,” I assure the man who has just bumped into me. He’s standing close which, given how busy the café is today, means that I’m shielded from further collisions.
There really is no harm done. I haven’t spilled my coffee on his clothes or my housemate’s dress, thank God. I can’t afford to replace either the dress or this man’s suit.
“Are you all right, miss?” the man asks, and I’m not sure why he’s still standing here. He hasn’t ordered yet and others are getting into line ahead of him.
“I’m fine, thanks. Um, excuse me, I need to find a table.”
Smiling, the man finally moves aside to let me pass. He’s very handsome, with brown curls long enough to appear roguish, and soulful brown eyes. He’s dressed like an accountant or lawyer. He’s probably a bit older than me, and I’m sure he’s not a regular here. I come here most days between my classes and I’ve never seen him here before.
I give him a brief, awkward smile before heading over to an empty table in the corner of the café. I drop my bag down at my feet and sit with my back to the wall, where I can watch the café’s customers come and go. The handsome man steps into line, but his gaze flicks to me every now and then, showing that he hasn’t forgotten about me.
I don’t know how to react; I’m not used to receiving attention from men. Is it the dress? Mallory had loaned it to me, insisting that I’ll never get a boyfriend in my too-large sweaters and well-worn jeans. We’re not all that close, so I’m not sure why she’s invested in my non-existent love life. Still, it’s kind of her to loan me some of her nice clothes. She tells me that nice clothes help boost self-confidence, but I’m not convinced. I still feel awkward and shy.
There’s someone else who keeps looking at me, too. He’s sitting at the next table over, and he’s handsome as well, with long blond hair and glasses. He seems a little too interested in me, and I feel uncomfortable. What are the chances I’ve attracted the romantic attention of two men at the same time when men barely look at me in the usual course of my day?
Unlikely. Maybe there’s something on my dress?
I shake off the feeling and concentrate on my coffee. He’s probably just people-watching like I am, and I caught his eye for some reason. I’m in no hurry to finish my coffee as my next class is in an hour’s time. It’ll only take fifteen minutes to get from here to the class, so I have time to kill.
Christmas is approaching, and the café is playing a cover of Joy to the World, performed by a popular singer. Halcyon? I think that’s the name. Lin wants me to buy the limited edition CD for him for Christmas—
Who is Lin? The thought is fuzzy, and fades quickly.
The curly-haired man gets a call and answers it while waiting for his coffee order. The call lasts for barely a minute, and I wonder if it’s related to his work, whatever that is. When the man receives the coffee, he makes his way through the tables… to me.
“Do you mind if I sit here?” he asks. “Every other table is full.”
I glance around. Sure, the café is busy, but it’s not true that every other table is full. There’s three free chairs at the table right next to me, where the long-haired man is seated. “Um, sure,” I say to the curly-haired man.
The man sits across from me and leans back, seeming to take up twice as much room as he needs to. Typical of alpha males. His eyes fix on my cleavage, which is more prominent than usual thanks to Mallory’s low-cut dress. I resist the urge to tug on the fabric. It’s not like I can hide my breasts.
Why do I even want to? Men like women’s breasts, right? If I want a boyfriend, I should be showing them off, not hiding them.
Of course, my studies are my top priority, but it’d be nice to have a boyfriend, too. Someone to go out with, someone to talk to at ungodly hours of the night.
Someone to hold and kiss. God, I haven’t even had sex yet. Mallory had laughed when I’d told her. She’d offered to set me up with a friend, but I’d refused. I don’t want my first time to be a charity fuck. My first time should be with someone special.
“I’m Michael,” the man says. “It sure is busy today, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” I lick my lips. “I’m Emily.” I fiddle with one of the café’s napkins, which is folded to look like a flower. It’s a cute touch. One thing this café does well is ambience.
Michael smiles. “Do you come here often, Emily?”
“Most days,” I admit. Perhaps this handsome man might be my first? My cheeks heat up at the thought. From the way he’s still staring at my breasts, I think he’ll be willing.
“It’s my first visit. I’ve heard the coffee is good. I work in the city but the train passes through the station here, and I’ve got some free time before a meeting, so I thought I’d try it.” Michael shakes his head. “Good coffee is hard to find in the city.”
I’m confused because I’ve never heard anybody call the coffee here anything other than average. Most people, usually students, come here because it’s convenient, not because of the fare.
“The coffee’s okay, I suppose,” I respond, hesitant to disagree. This man is clearly making an effort to befriend me, and it’s flattering. He’s handsome and he seems nice. I should follow Mallory’s advice and make an effort, too. “Where do you work?” I ask.
The conversation continues. Michael dodges my questions about his job, only telling me that it’s boring financial stuff. He asks about my university course, about my living situation, about my hobbies, about my future plans.
The conversation is all about me, and when he offers me his phone number, I accept it. The entire time, I feel as if something is wrong with this scene. The fact that the long-haired man keeps staring silently at us from the next table over only increases that feeling.
Michael leaves for his meeting, and I check my watch. Twenty minutes to my class; I should leave, too.
As I’m walking toward the door of the café, the strap of my bag over my shoulder, the long-haired man stands and follows me. By the time I reach the door, he’s right behind me, barely an inch between us.
“Allow me.” The man reaches past me to push the door open and the bell jingles softly overhead. Ugh, another alpha male. I’m sure he means well, but I can open a damn door myself. The sound of cars rushing past on the road outside spills into the café. A chilly winter wind assaults my bare arms, making me shiver.
Why had I chosen a dress with no sleeves for a winter day? And where is my coat?
“Um, thank you?” I say to the man before I step into bright sunshine. Disorientation hits as my shoes tap across a paved path lined by green grass and bushes. I’m in the park.
How did I get here? Where is the snow? Why are the flowers in bloom?
The mysterious man is still behind me. He moves to my side and takes my arm, linking it with his. We start walking down the path. This is wrong, too. Wrong, and yet familiar at the same time.
I’m so confused. I have a handsome man’s phone number in my phone, yet it’s a different man who’s with me now.
“Who are you?” I ask.
He does not answer. Instead, he stares straight ahead. He’s well-dressed, albeit in a style more formal than Michael’s business attire, with a tall, broad-shouldered, yet lean, build. His hair is straight and tied back in a low ponytail. He maintains a steady pace as we walk.
I have class in twenty minutes, but that no longer seems important. In fact, I’m not even sure if I actually have the class or not. Was I mistaken?
The man pauses to allow a riderless black horse to cross the path in front of us. The feeling of wrongness increases. A horse should not be wandering around a community park on its own.
We keep walking. My companion doesn’t comment on the loose horse. “Who are you?” I ask again.
This time, I receive an answer. “You’ll remember soon.”
Those words ring in my ears, my mind latching onto the word ‘remember’. Am I supposed to remember something? Have I forgotten something about this man that I need to remember?
“I’ve forgotten something?” I ask uncertainly as we walk past some children kicking a soccer ball around. One of them waves at me.
“Mum, Mum, watch this!” He is about eight years old and has Michael’s beautiful brown eyes and curly hair.
But my companion does not slow or stop. We keep walking past the children. The boy does not call out again. When I look back at the group, he’s disappeared.
“Yes, you’ve forgotten,” the man next to me says, bringing my attention back to him. “But it will come back to you.”
I open my eyes suddenly, my heart racing. the fibres of my dream cling to me a moment longer, the scent of coffee lingering in the air, Joy to the World echoing in my ears, before reality sets in, leaving me with only the sensation of regret and nothing to attach it to.
I sit up and Alois’s arm slips down to rest heavily on my thigh. The room around us is dark. I don’t know the time, but I guess it’s late. If I wanted to, I could take a look at Alois’s watch, but he’s right—the time isn’t all that important. And, honestly, I enjoy seeing him take delight in my ignorance of such things. If such a small thing keeps him happy, then that’s good for me.
Alois stirs next to me. He blinks a few times before sleep lets him go. “Emily?” He brushes loose hair out of his face, then peers at me. For some reason, his hair never tangles as much as mine does; I’m envious.
“Sorry. I was… dreaming,” I mutter. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
Alois pulls me back down and wraps me up in his arms. “Dreaming about what?” he asks. Once again, he’s being nosy. I wish he could be as open with me as he expects me to be with him.
“I don’t really remember. I think there was coffee? And Christmas carols?”
“Christmas is a long way off,” Alois says with a low laugh as he runs his fingers through my hair. “Do you like coffee?”
“Mmm.”
“i can let the staff know. I’m not fond of coffee myself, which is largely why it hasn’t been provided to you.”
I file that information away inside the folder that is labelled ‘Alois’ in my mind. I imagine that his name is written in large red capitals, marking it as a priority. At this time, Alois is second only to Lin, who will always be my highest priority. “Thanks. I’d appreciate that.”
I try to go back to sleep, but my thoughts remain locked on my dream, unable to let it go. There is something important in there, something I can’t recall now. I hate how I often forget my dreams so quickly after waking.
“I think Michael was in the dream, too,” I muse to a still-awake Alois.
I don’t need to see Alois’s face to know that he isn’t happy at the mention of Michael. Still, he remains silent.
“Maybe you were, too? I’m not sure.”
Alois probably dreams about horses, or perhaps his childhood. I hope they’re happy dreams.
“Was it upsetting?” Alois inquires. “A nightmare, perhaps?” He rubs my bandaged hand. I can’t wait to have those stupid things taken off. I want the full use of my hand back.
“Not exactly. More… unsettling,” I decide. After a moment, I ask, “Do you think Michael ever loved me?”
Alois lets out a soft sigh into my hair. “I believe he found you attractive. I believe he found you to be a suitable mother for his child.”
“But did he ever love me?” I curl the fingers of my un-bandaged hand in Alois’s sheets. As always, the cuffs are binding my wrists. After hearing Alois’s story about what his ex-girlfriend had done, I now understand why Alois uses them. He’s concerned that I might use his biometrics to unlock his phone while he’s sleeping and snoop through it, too.
Of course, he could just disable the biometrics lock and only use a passcode instead, or he could keep his phone in his office, not his bedroom. Damn, when will I get my phone back? It would be nice to be able to text Lin. As for Michael, I have no interest in talking to him, though he could answer my question better than Alois can.
“I have no idea. Now, go back to sleep. You’ll want to be well rested for tomorrow.”
Yes, the promised walk through the gardens. Alois is lengthening my leash, allowing me just a little more freedom.
I suppose it’s silly to expect Alois to know anything about Michael’s feelings for me. After all, until recently, Alois had not even known Lin and I existed.
Does Alois love me?
The question remains locked in my mind. I’m unwilling to voice it as I’m not sure if I want yes or no to be the answer.
Is Alois even capable of loving someone, or have his past experiences coloured his view of women so much that he cannot bring himself to love any woman?
Do I love Alois? That question is just as troubling. Sure, he’s attractive. But do I love him in a romantic way? I’d loved Michael, certainly—and look how that turned out. Love, the unrequited kind, hurts. Maybe it will be better if I don’t love Alois, if all there is between us is physical attraction. It won’t hurt so much when he decides he’s bored with me.
“Can I ask a question?” I inquire.
“I suppose.” Alois’s response isn’t particularly enthusiastic.
“Who was your first? I mean, your first sex partner?”
Alois is silent for a little while, and I’m about to give up on getting an answer when he says, “I was in high school. It was a classmate.”
“Was it good?” I ask.
“Terrible,” Alois replies, smiling. “Neither of us knew what we were doing.”
I laugh softly. I wonder how my first time would have gone if it had been with someone as inexperienced as I was. It would have been fun, I hope, even if neither of us knew what we were doing.
“What brought that to your mind?” Alois asks, his tone curious.
“I’m not sure. Maybe my dream?”
“Your dream that perhaps involved Michael?” Now Alois sounds unhappy.
“I don’t think I was dreaming about sex.”
Alois brushes my wavy hair away from my face. “Good. If you dream about having sex, you should be dreaming of me.”
I sigh. He really is possessive. Jealous, too. I’ll need to keep that in mind as I do not want to make him angry. While he seems agreeable as long as I’m cooperating, I cannot take that for granted. Like the weather, Alois’s mood can change abruptly. One ill-considered reaction on his part could cause Lin or I serious harm.
“Now go to sleep. We will have time to talk tomorrow.” Alois keeps brushing his fingers through my hair like I’m a pet puppy he’s trying to soothe.
I obey Alois’s order and close my eyes, drifting off to sleep. No more dreams rise from my subconscious to trouble my mind. But still, there remains the lingering feeling that I’ve forgotten something important. Whether what I’ve forgotten is related to my dream or Alois, I’m not sure.