We Both Reborn And I Let Go This Time Chapter 08

We Both Reborn And I Let Go This Time Chapter 08

The second time Raymond came by, he brought a bag of apples.

He set them by the gate, knocked, and was gone before I made it outside.

I stood there holding the bag for a long time, then brought them next door to Mrs. Gable.

Arthur came home that night, noticed the empty table, and asked, “Did we have company today?”

I hesitated. “No.”

“What about the boot tracks on the porch?”

He didn’t miss anything.

“…Raymond stopped by.”

Arthur’s hand paused on his collar button.

“What did he want?”

“He dropped something off and left.”

“What?”

“Apples.”

“What did you do with them?”

“Gave them to Mrs. Gable.”

Arthur didn’t ask anything else. He finished unbuttoning his shirt and went to wash his hands.

I stood in the kitchen doorway watching him, and the words came out before I could stop them. “I didn’t

know he was coming.”

“I know.”

“There’s nothing between us.”

“I know.”

He dried his hands and turned to face me.

“Eleanor,” he said, “I’m not worried about you and Raymond. I’m worried about him making you unhappy.”

I went still.

“Whether you’re happy matters to me.” He wasn’t looking at me when he said it, head down, working the

towel over his hands.

I looked at him, and my throat closed up without warning.

When was the last time anyone cared whether I was happy?

I couldn’t think of a single time.

It had never happened in my last life, and it hadn’t happened in this one, until Arthur.

I walked over, took the towel from his hand, and dried his fingers myself. They were long, with sharp knuckles, and the calluses between his thumb and forefinger were rough enough to catch on the cloth.

“Arthur,” I said. “I’m happy. Being with you… I’m happy.”

His hand shifted in mine.

Then his fingers closed around mine and held on.

He didn’t say anything. He just held my hand like that, for a long time.

That night, Arthur took apart his cot and moved it to the storage room.

He didn’t explain. I didn’t ask.

The third time Raymond came, he didn’t bring anything.

He stood at the gate, his face drawn with exhaustion, dark circles under his eyes, looking like he hadn’t slept

in days.

“Eleanor,” he said. “I need to tell you something.”

“What is it?”

“When we were kids.” He looked me in the eye, and his voice came out dry and cracked. “That winter I fell through the ice… you were the one who pulled me out.”

I didn’t say anything.

“It was you,” he said again, his voice starting to break. “You took off your own coat and wrapped it around me, and you ran a fever for days after. Why didn’t you tell me?”

I leaned against the doorframe and looked at him.

“I didn’t keep it from you,” I said. “You just never asked.”

Raymond’s face went white.

He opened his mouth, tried to speak, and swallowed it back.

It took him a long time to get anything out. “I thought it was Clara. I always thought it was Clara.”

“I know.”

“How?”

“After you woke up, the way you looked at her changed.” I held his gaze. “You always thought she was the

one.”

Raymond’s jaw worked, and his hands curled at his sides.

“Eleanor…”

“Is there anything else?”

“I…” His throat worked. “I’m sorry.”

“And then what?”

“…”

“Is there anything else?”

My voice was calm when I said it. I wasn’t trying to interrogate him.

He stood in front of me saying sorry, but the word meant nothing by itself. Was he sorry for getting the wrong sister? For handing his gratitude to the wrong person?

Or for what happened in the last life, the shove and the baby?

I couldn’t untangle it, and I didn’t want to try.

Raymond stood there, his lips trembling, and in the end he said nothing. That was when Arthur came home.

He pulled his jeep into the driveway, saw Raymond, and his expression didn’t shift at all.

“Can I help you?” he asked, his voice flat.

Raymond’s eyes went from Arthur to me.

“Eleanor,” he said. “I mean it. I know I was wrong.

I looked into his eyes and saw regret, and frustration, and something I recognized too well: the ache of wanting something only after he’d lost it.

But wanting something after you’ve already lost it is the most useless feeling in the world.

“Raymond,” I said. “You know now. So what?”

He froze.

“You know the person who saved you was me. You know the one you should have married was me.” I didn’t look away. “But the person you married is Clara, and she didn’t do anything wrong. You come here to tell me you made a mistake. What do you want me to do? Divorce Arthur? Trade places with your wife?”

“That’s not what I…”

“Then what?”

Raymond couldn’t finish the sentence.

Arthur walked to my side, stood between us, and turned to face him.

“Raymond,” he said. “You should go.”

Raymond looked at the two of us standing together, and I watched the last trace of fight leave his face.

He turned and left.

That night, Arthur was quieter than usual.

I lay beside him, knowing he was still awake.

“What are you thinking about?” I asked.

“Nothing.”

“Liar.”

He was quiet for a while. “I’m thinking about when he figured it out.”

“The ice?”

“Yeah.”

“Probably just recently,” I said. “Otherwise he wouldn’t have come.”

Arthur rolled over to face me. In the dark, I couldn’t read his expression.

“Eleanor,” he said. “What if, and I’m just saying what if, he knew all along?”

I didn’t understand.

“What if he always knew you were the one who saved him, and still chose Clara?” Arthur’s voice was careful, like he was handling something fragile. “What if he came back the same way you did, remembering everything from before, and still…”

He didn’t finish.

My stomach dropped.

Raymond came back too. I knew that. But I had never followed the thought to its end.

When he was reborn, did he already know I was the one who pulled him out of that water?

If he knew, then everything I thought I understood fell apart.

He sat at that table and talked about growing up on the same block like it was nothing. He grabbed my sleeve in the yard and warned me not to try anything.

He married Clara.

He knew. He knew the whole time.

He didn’t get it wrong. He chose her with his eyes wide open.

Because Clara mattered more to him than any debt he owed, more than the girl who pulled him out of the ice and gave him her own coat.

I thought about my last life.

He married me, but I was a placeholder. He froze me out for years.

After the baby was gone, we lived under the same roof like ghosts.

And when he died, his last words came through a soldier, same as always. “Let me and Clara have what we were supposed to.”

So that was it.

He always knew what he wanted. I was just in the way.

I gripped the blanket tight.

“Eleanor?” Arthur’s voice found me in the dark.

“It’s nothing,” I said. “Go to sleep.”

I didn’t cry.

He wasn’t worth one more tear.