The Realities of Love

Chapter 3

I stared at the inside of the small house that I apparently lived in. There was a total of two rooms. A small bathroom that had a sink, a toilet, and a shower. There was also a larger room that was a combination of a bedroom and a kitchen. There were clothes everywhere and old food left on top of the microwave.

"This is where I live?" I asked with a bit of disgust. The other Cara was a slob.

"Yep," Randal answered popping the p. He walked past me, bumping into me slightly, and went to see what was inside the yellowing fridge that was supposed to be white. He swung open the door and looked inside to see its contents.

"What are you doing?" I snapped at him.

"I'm looking to see if you have any food," he answered like it was completely normal to search someone else's fridge. That has not been the case in any dimension I've been in.

"I know what you're doing, why are you doing it?" I questioned frustratedly.

He sighed and closed the fridge door then turned towards me and leaned against the gross fridge. "I'm making sure that you won't starve if I leave. You have a brain injury so you can't exactly go get takeout," he explained to me in a demeaning tone.

"Oh shut up," I replied while rolling my eyes.

"You sure you don't remember me? Cause you're acting exactly like how you did when I saved you from your fashion disaster at prom junior year!" He condescended.

"I don't even know what you're talking about, and I can already tell that I was probably acting mad because you did something incredibly mean," I told him in a calm but strict tone.

"How is telling you that your hair looked like crap and offering to fix it mean?" He asked.

My jaw dropped in shock at his words. "Yes! That is mean! You don't tell a girl that their hair looks like crap!" I yelled at him.

"I was just being honest with you!" He yelled back angrily throwing his muscular arms to his side.

I stared at him in shock and he stared back at me. He folded his arms and his face started to return back to its normal expression. "What the hell is wrong with you? I don't even know you," I reminded him once he was totally calm again.

"That's the thing... you do know me," he declared and placed a hand on his chest. His dark eyes tore into me and an involuntary shiver went down my back. We were both quiet as we glared at each other. I can't tell if the heat I'm feeling from this gaze is from complete hatred or not... it's different this time than it was with all the other Randals in the other realities.

Finally, I forced myself to look away from him and I said, "I'm sorry, but I don't know who you are."

He let out a sigh and admitted, "Maybe that's for the best."

"Why?" I asked him a bit surprised.

He rubbed the back of his neck and looked down for a few seconds before looking back up at me. "I did some stuff I'm not proud of," he confessed.

"Like what?" I asked, my curiosity peaked. What did this Randal do to this Cara? Is it as bad as the other ones have been? He's different from the other ones... less, I don't know... Randally.

"If you don't remember it maybe it would be best if I just sincerely apologize and you never have to relive those moments," Randal said but really more suggested. I wanted to push it farther, to know listable reasons that I can use as to why I'd keep him at arm's length away, but his eyes were pleading with me to let the subject drop.

"Okay," I acceded.

He let out a sigh and stated, "Cara, I'm so sorry. I never should've done those horrible, stupid, and mean things to you. I should've been nicer and treated you like you deserve to be treated."

"How do I deserve to be treated?" I asked before I could stop myself.

"Like a Queen," Randal answered without hesitation.

His response made my breath get caught in my throat. He answered that so quickly like he had been thinking about this for a while and had thought of that reply a million times. His brown eyes held my hazel ones and I could see his sincerity in those pools of melted chocolate.

I felt myself start to reach out for him but I stopped my hand before it could make any contact. What am I doing? Am I really going to risk being dropped into the middle of a new reality over Randal Hart? No! No more feelings. No more love. No more heartbreaks. No more having to start completely over.

I took a step back and grunted a bit, this seemed to call his attention back to the present as well. "So why do I live here? Am I poor or something?" I asked trying to subtly avoid whatever the hell had just happened between us.

He blinked a few times then started to rub the back of his neck as he thought of his answer. "Not quite. You're probably the richest person in town actually," he informed me.

"I am? Why do I live here then?" I questioned as I gestured to the sloppy small area that we were in.

"Well... you sure you want to know?" He asked with a grimace on his face and he let his hands drop onto his lap so he could look at them instead of me.

"I'm gonna find out eventually. Might as well know sooner rather than later," I told him.I felt my gut twist as he took a deep breath and said, "Well you got all that money when your parents died in a fire when you were little. They were loaded enough that if you wanted to you could not work a day in your life and be fine."

"So I live in a small crappy studio house so I don't have to work and save money?" I hypothesized.

He shook his head slightly and that horrible grimace reappeared on his face. "Not quite. You're an author, you write books and crap like that. But you live out here because people in town think you're cursed, and no one is really willing to let you stay near them," he admitted to me as he started to rub the back of his neck again anxiously.

This might be the best reality I've been to yet. No one to really see that I'm not the same person. No one will pursue me romantically and cause me to jump into a different dimension. I can actually live here for a prolonged amount of time. I can have a life.

"Well... are you going to say anything?" He asked me worriedly.

"There's not much to say I guess," I replied with a shrug.

"If it's any consolation I don't think you're cursed," he told me. My heart skipped a beat and I felt almost like I had been caught in a lie from the guilt I felt.

Wasn't I cursed though? What else can explain what's been happening to me since I was 19? Doomed to always fall in love, but never able to truly have it. Destined to have my heart broken again and again until I've just become a numb feeling person. A person that I can feel myself on the verge of becoming.

"Thanks, Randal," I whispered looking at the clothed covered floor, refusing to meet his gaze.I felt sparks and warmth on my left shoulder and I jumped a bit. I looked at my shoulder and saw his hand. Why does it feel like that? In some of the realities, I've been to things that seem like fairytales are real. One place had descendants of Egyptian gods walking around and about. While another had werewolves and pixies that were at war with dragons. Could he be a creature similar to the ones from those worlds?

He grunted and I discarded my thoughts and focused on him. "I have to admit though, with you ending up in the middle of the desert with amnesia it's kind of looking like you got a curse," he joked trying to lighten the mood. I forced a half-assed laugh and muttered under my breath, "Yeah. It really does."