Page 9 of Echoes of Us

A shley stirred awake to the soft gray light of morning filtering through the curtains. She blinked groggily, her body heavy with the remnants of exhaustion. The quilt her mother had lovingly sewn was still tucked around her, and the faint scent of lavender lingered in the air.

The first thing she noticed was the warmth beside her. Someone was in the bed with her.

Her breath hitched, and her heart quickened. Cole.

She swallowed hard, the sharp edge of her anger from the night before dulled by the memory of his grief.

Yesterday must have been unbearable for him, and as much as she resented his silence, she couldn’t ignore the weight he carried.

This is what marriage is, she thought, her chest tightening. It’s staying, even when it’s hard.

With a heavy heart, Ashley scooted closer, her hand reaching out to comfort him. She imagined his broad chest, the hard planes of his abdomen, the familiar strength of him beneath her touch. But instead, her hand curled around something small and soft–a narrow waist and… was that a breast?

A sharp gasp startled her fully awake.

“Ash! Get your paws off me!” a female voice shrieked. “I know you’re upset about Charlie, but there are limits to what your BFF can do for you!”

Ashley scrambled back, her heart pounding. “Sarah?!” she choked out, her voice incredulous.

Sarah sat up, her messy strawberry-blonde hair falling around her freckled face, her deep green eyes glaring with mock offense.

“Yes, Sarah. Who else would it be?” She threw up her hands.

Ashley blinked, her confusion deepening.

“I thought you went home! And why are you suddenly remembering Charlie?”

“Uh, because you spent half the night crying about him?” Sarah huffed, smoothing down her oversized sleep shirt. “You made me drive us all the way here from Yale, and we ate cookies until we couldn’t move. Ring any bells?”

Ashley stared at her, her brain scrambling to catch up. This wasn’t right. Sarah wasn’t supposed to be here. And this Sarah… this Sarah was missing a few wrinkles. Her face was smoother, her freckles brighter, and she looked… young.

“Sarah,” Ashley began carefully, her voice shaky. “What exactly happened yesterday?”

Sarah tilted her head, her green eyes narrowing. “Charlie dumped you over the phone like the absolute jerk he is. And honestly? You should’ve seen it coming from a mile away.” She paused, her freckled nose wrinkling. “Are we in the denial phase now? Because if not, I’m officially concerned.”

Ashley’s chest tightened as dread settled in her stomach. She glanced at the phone on the nightstand. It wasn’t her phone. Her heart raced as she grabbed it, the familiar weight and outdated design sending a chill through her.

“Come on, we’re going to be late,” Sarah said, hopping out of bed and pulling on a pair of sweatpants.

“Late for what?” Ashley asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Sarah shot her a bewildered look. “School. Earth to Ash, what is going on with you? We’re almost done with the semester.”

“School?” Ashley echoed, her voice rising.

“Yes, school.” Sarah rolled her eyes. “You’ve been acting weird all morning. Did you cry so hard you erased your memory?”

Ashley didn’t respond. Her hands were shaking as she clutched the phone.

It wasn’t just the phone. The walls around her were painted a different color, the books on the shelf were textbooks she hadn’t touched in years, and when she stumbled to the mirror, the reflection staring back at her was painfully unfamiliar.

She was thinner. She was at least ten pounds lighter than yesterday, her hair darker and shorter, and her face missing the subtle lines that had come with time. She turned to the side, her breath catching.

Her stomach was flat.

“Where’s the baby?” she whispered, her voice trembling.

“What baby?” Sarah asked, her tone sharp. She gasped. “Were you dumb enough to let Charlie get you pregnant? Are you insane?!”

Ashley spun around; her eyes wide. “What are you talking about?”

“What are you talking about?” Sarah countered.

Ashley ran her hands over her stomach, panic bubbling in her chest. “Where’s my baby? Where’s Cole?”

“Cole?” Sarah repeated, staring at her like she’d grown a second head. “Cole, who?”

“Cole Westwood!” Ashley snapped, tears pricking her eyes. “Who do you think who?”

“Wait.” Sarah’s expression shifted into something both horrified and amused. “That jerk? What does this have to do with him? Did you guys hook up or something?”

“What?” Ashley felt like the ground was slipping out from under her.

Sarah crossed her arms. “You’re spiraling. It’s the breakup, isn’t it? Sit down before you faint.”

Ashley shook her head, trying to steady herself. “Sarah, I need you to be very, very specific. Tell me exactly what happened yesterday.”

Sarah sighed dramatically. “Fine. You cried. You dragged me out of my psych class, made me skip my favorite professor’s lecture, and forced me to drive us all the way back here because you ‘needed your mom.’ Then you hugged her for about an hour, ate a ton of cookies, made me sit through a stupid rom-com, and cried some more while inhaling a gallon of ice cream. Happy?”

“Yale?” Ashley echoed.

“Uh, yeah. That’s where we study, genius,” Sarah said, rolling her eyes.

“No,” Ashley said, her voice shaking. “We’re at Harvard. You wanted Yale, but I won rock-paper-scissors. You lost.”

Sarah blinked at her, then threw her head back with a laugh so loud it startled Ashley. “Oh my God, are you seriously trying to rewrite history now? You lost, Ash. Fair and square. That’s why we’re here. Did you hit your head or something?”

Ashley stared at her, her stomach churning. “No. I–” She faltered, her words dying in her throat.

Sarah shook her head, still chuckling as she grabbed her sweatshirt off the chair. “Seriously, you’re acting weird today. Maybe the cookies last night fried your brain.”

Ashley’s knees buckled as realization hit her like a freight train. She wasn’t at Harvard. She wasn’t married. She wasn’t pregnant.

She was in the past.

Ashley sat frozen on the bed, her heart pounding in her chest as Sarah’s footsteps receded down the hall. The sound of the bathroom door closing snapped her out of her daze. She stared at the door for a moment before looking down at the phone in her hand.

Her stomach churned as she turned it over, her fingers trembling. The device was ancient–a clunky, plastic relic from over a decade ago. Her reflection in the dim screen stared back at her, distorted but unmistakably… younger.

With shaking hands, she pressed the home button.

No passcode. The screen lit up, displaying a picture of her and Sarah on the last day of school, their arms draped around each other.

Ashley blinked at the image. Her hair was shorter, her face softer, and her smile was wide and carefree.

She scrolled through the messages, finding nothing from Cole.

No “on my way back” text. Nothing from her husband anywhere.

Her heart sank.

She needed more proof.

Sliding off the bed, Ashley darted to the dresser, pulling open the top drawer. Inside were clothes she hadn’t worn in years–worn-out tank tops, oversized sweaters, and jeans that looked impossibly small. She grabbed one, holding it up in disbelief.

“No way,” she muttered.

Her gaze shifted to the full-length mirror on the back of the door. Slowly, as though approaching a wild animal, she stepped in front of it again.

The person staring back at her wasn’t the Ashley she knew.

Her hands moved out of their own accord, searching for the familiar curve of her stomach, the weight, the life that had been growing inside her just hours ago.

The unbidden sense of loss overwhelmed her, and her panic rose, clawing at her chest as she stumbled back toward the desk. She flipped through a stack of papers, her breath catching as her eyes landed on a syllabus:

Psych 201 – Yale University

“Yale,” she whispered, the word barely audible. Her head spun memories of her life flashing before her in fragments–her parents’ house, her wedding to Cole, the first flutter of her baby’s kicks. All of it felt like it had been yanked away, leaving her stranded in a life she didn’t recognize.

The sound of the bathroom door opening startled her, and she quickly shoved the papers back into place. Sarah appeared in the doorway, her hair damp and pulled into a messy ponytail.

“You good?” she asked, tilting her head as she studied Ashley.

“Fine,” Ashley lied, her voice tight.

Sarah raised a brow but didn’t push. “Get dressed. We’re going to be late.”

“For what?” Ashley asked, her voice more forceful than she intended.

Sarah gave her a bewildered look. “For class, obviously. Earth to Ash, we have a final next week, remember? One you were studying for but stopped because you were too busy mourning Charlie and eating your weight in cookies.”

She opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, Sarah left her with some clothes she tossed onto the bed for her.

Ashley successfully buttoned her unbelievably small pair of jeans and heard her mother’s footsteps echo faintly down the hall, a rhythmic sound she hadn’t realized she missed until right that moment.

“Ashley, sweetheart? Can I come in?”

She looked up, her throat tight. “Yeah.”

The door creaked open, and her mother stepped inside, looking younger than Ashley had seen her in years.

Her auburn hair, streaked with gray in Ashley’s memories, was rich and vibrant.

The fine lines around her eyes were softer, barely visible, and her smile…

It was the same. The same smile that had always felt like home.

Ashley stood, and before her mother could say anything, she threw her arms around her, burying her face in her shoulder. Her mother froze for a moment, startled, before wrapping her arms around Ashley.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” she asked, her voice low and soothing.