Dara, Page, and the Secrets of the Multiverse

▷ 1.3

"How did you die?" Dara ventured, fighting to get the words past the growing lump in her throat. She had never stopped blinking profusely since everything clicked into place. This was not the retreat her uncle promised her the cabin would bring. If anything, her heart started breaking. All over again. "What was the last thing you remember before ending up here?"

The ghost, not having caught on to Dara's inner thoughts, hummed. "Some years after graduation," he said. "We went on this ski trip with the extended family in another country. One of my nephews got caught in a small avalanche. I saved him, and..."

"You didn't make it," Dara supplied.

"Yeah," the ghost agreed with a brief throw of hands. "You can say that."

Dara chewed on her lips, the weight on her chest getting heavier by the second. "I know your name," she said. "You...I'm sorry. I didn't recognize you until you recounted the snake thing. I..."

It settled on the ghost.

"You're Dara? The Dara?" The ghost flitted closer, getting to only a few millimeters from her nose. A swish of cold passed across her face. The trees outside were silent, so it couldn't have been the wind. Then, it could only be the ghost making a pass at grabbing her cheeks to turn her head from side to side. It must have failed. "Holy shit. It is you."

The truth came like a freight train, with all horns involved.

Ghosts and haunted cabins aside, the boy in the meadow and the one who has been with her for most her childhood had met his demise, and she didn't even know. She had been busy, frolicking around in the city and dating all kinds of jerks and pricks. He waited all this time for her because she told him to. Then, she ended up dating the guy who broke her heart and made her end up in this washed-out town because there wasn't anyone who would treat her right.

But...was she really at fault here? She had given him a lifetime to tell her. If she broached the subject first, she would have robbed him of his moment. It was a complicated position—one they created for themselves.

"I'm sorry," Dara said. "I shouldn't have moved away. Things wouldn't have turned out this way if I hadn't left."

"Things turned out this way because you left, and you're not certain no more tragedy would occur if you hadn't," the ghost said. "I've learned to accept my fate, and you should never apologize for your decisions. I made mine, and the consequences tied with my regrets are mine to bear. Don't apologize, Dara."

A tear escaped Dara's eye, dropping into a dark splotch on the table. "But—"

"Loving you was the best last gift you gave me," the ghost affirmed with a nod. "I truly am grateful for the time we had. Including now. Would you believe it? Fate conspired to bring us together."

"Well, fate did you dirty," Dara answered, sniffing. The back of her hand wiped the errant tears ruining her skincare routine. "Because it's not unrequited love. I...liked you too, Page."

A shimmer passed across the ghost's translucent body. "Is that..."

"Your name, yes." Dara chuckled. "Your name is Page."

"Page," the ghost breathed. Slowly, their murky features became more defined to resemble the boy she left waiting back home. "My name is Page."

Dara smiled. "And now, you're free," she said. "You don't need to wait for me anymore."

He grinned back at her. It was such a boyish smile, as if he hadn't quite moved past the blithe boy she knew him as. A flash of light rippled through the kitchen, poking her eyes with dark spots. When it subsided, the kitchen was silent. It might have all been a cruel hallucination, or it existed and would forever now be in her memory.

Dara stood up, wiping the last of her tears off. She was alone now. For real, this time.