26. Libby

"Log two-hundred-twelve of my research in exploring my fated mates theory. The book titled Secrets and Sudden Fates did not in fact reveal anything substantial. This scientist believes that it was made more to sell copies than give an actual account of a true story of mates."

I click off the recorder and groan as I glance at the clock.

It's so late that it's technically morning, but I don't care. I feel like I'm finally getting close to a breakthrough. Or maybe I'm just sleep-deprived. It could be that.

I've started staying late at the lab ever since I met Hyx, continuing my research in more or less secret. Secret because I don't want him to freak out.

Things have been great these past few weeks, but not enough for him to know I'm obsessing over fated mates. Especially since I still hold the strong theory that he's mine.

Yeah, that's not really ‘new relationship' kind of talk. Best to keep that to myself for now.

For a while, I'd been content to put my research on the back burner and focus on ‘normal science.' This news had been received very well by my fellow scientists in the lab. And a bit of smugness at my putting it aside, much to my ire.

But the more time I spend with Hyx, the more I'm convinced that there's something more between us.

Little things here and there that began to add up. Guessing little quirks of his I have no way of knowing and yet am always right about. The way his sharp laughter is so familiar. Even the way he likes to eat his food is so familiar it's both comforting and infuriating.

And I wouldn't be a very good scientist if I just let something like that go unanswered. Who cares if it's not "normal science?" If we all just practiced "normal science" we'd never discover anything new!

So, I go back to researching what I had wanted to in the first place. The theory of fated mates. This time, though, I don't let my co-workers know. Better to work under the radar on this one.

I decide to start fresh on my approach to this theory, maybe see an obvious point I could have missed. What if the physiological response to a fated mate's presence is part of our biology somewhere deep down?

I already have a few theories, but lately, I've been fixating on the question of whether alternate or past lives could exist. And if they do exist, if the presence of someone from a past life could create the sensation felt when meeting a fated mate.

Theory one is that we are able to perceive and sense alternate lives from different dimensions. And we, in turn, form a connection with someone we are in love with in that alternate life.

The plus of this theory is that the study of alternative dimensions is somehow more accepted than past lives to scientists. There's likely to be less teasing involved.

The con is simply a logical one. The theory of multiple dimensions implies an infinite number of possible lives. This means that surely you wouldn't be connected to just one person throughout them all.

My second theory is that telepathic connections are possible to make with people. Some, though not many, in the scientific community already believe that telepathy is possible on some level. Like how people know when they feel like they're being watched. Or déjà vu or high-success gamblers that don't cheat to win. In this theory, we have simply evolved the telepathic ability to connect with someone.

What I like about this theory is that this would explain why not everyone would have a mate as not everyone could have evolved to this level.

On the negative side, the small community that believes in the possibility of telepathy typically doesn't associate it with mates. Despite also being considered a pseudoscience, they will mock you for your theory, too.

And then of course my tried-and-true theory. Fated mates are people who have always been destined to be together. Not only that, but they've also lived out past lives together. They're fated forever which is why they keep finding each other.

This theory, I like because many people have reconnected tales of having memories from their past lives. I have, too, though I don't like saying too loudly. Which brings us to the con, which is that your co-workers think you're crazy, and some of those tales are greatly exaggerated by people. This does not help you when you are trying to prove a point.

I groan as I sit back and study my theories. Technically, I should be proposing the first two. The last one has only ever given me grief over my career. And yet, I can't help but feel it's right.

There were so many moments when I was so sure I was remembering details of a past life. So many nights I saw the eyes of a man that I swear is Hyx even before I knew him. Dreams of dancing with him in a greenhouse, or walking beside him in the woods. Even dreams of nights on a cold shuttle, curled up against him for warmth.

They'd be so vivid sometimes that I almost felt like I was back there again. And I knew they'd happened.

It isn't just my overactive imagination. I know it isn't. And yet, I'm still too scared to admit my personal experience to anyone else, certain they'll tell me I'm crazy. They'll say I'm looking for things that aren't there. I'm a scientist, after all. I know what confirmation bias is.

I'm too chicken to even admit it to Hyx, just in case he agrees with them.

I let out a long sigh and decide to call it a night. Or a morning, I suppose.

Over the next few days, I do what I can to test my theory, interviewing people who claim to have past life experiences. I ask them some standard questions, trying to verify their memories for authenticity.

But the big problem is that there aren't many people who have met their fated mate, and even fewer who have admitted to having past life experiences.

So it goes without saying that the overlap of two very small groups is something close to infinitesimal. Too small to draw many scientific valid conclusions from.

"You look like you're ready to pass out over that chart."

I jump up from where I've been hunched over for the past few hours and whirl around. Hyx leans against the door frame with a smirk on his face. I cross my arms.

"How long have you been standing there exactly?"

He shrugs. "Only about a minute or so. Did you know you mumble to yourself when you work?"

I roll my eyes. "I'm about to make a breakthrough."

"I've heard that one before."

"This time I really am!" I protest, even though I know it isn't technically true. But I'm in the zone right now, connecting every account I can to someone or some event to place them.

Hyx gives me a once-over and frowns. "You really do look like you"re about to pass out. And you're way too tense, too. When was the last time you slept?"

I shuffle a bit on my feet and shrug. "I slept last night. I get in about three hours every night."

"Three hou – Libby! You can't survive like that."

"Sure I can."

He gives me a deadpan look.

I sigh. "Fine. I'll take a break."

His smirk returns. "Good. I'm taking you out to lunch then since I'm sure you've forgotten to eat again."

"I ate!" Just then my traitorous stomach growls. Hyx chuckles, and I glare at my stomach.

By the time we sit down to eat, I'm grateful for his intervention. It's easy for me to forget that sometimes the best thing a scientist can do is take a step back.

We begin chatting a bit, and as I'm explaining something to him, I accidentally knock my satchel off the table. My notebooks and the latest book I'm reading about mates scatter across the floor.

In a flash, I'm on the floor trying to gather it up as quickly as I can. A person at the table next to us bends down and picks up the book about mates. He frowns and gives me a curious look. "Are you reading this?"

I let out a nervous laugh and snatch the book from him. "Actually, I grabbed that one by mistake and need to turn it back in. Thanks."

Quickly I stuff the book back into the satchel, my face burning. I don't need judgment from strangers, I already get it enough from anyone else who knows about my research.

Then I notice that Hyx has one of my notebooks. He's reading one of my notebooks. "You're researching the theory of fated mates?"

Deciding that outright lying to him is a bad idea, I tell him about my research. About past lives and the connections people can make. I explain my theory that maybe the unusual feeling people describe when they meet their fated mate is actually an ingrained response to someone from an alternate life.

When I'm finished, I wait nervously for his response, chewing my lip.

I don't believe he'll laugh, if only because we've become so close that I don't think he'll do that to me. Not to my face. He might think it's strange, though.

"I think you're onto something," he says.

I blink in surprise. "Really?"

"Really. Sometimes I feel like I get flashes that seem too real to just be something made up. Maybe we all have a past life."

My science brain immediately goes into overdrive. "You have that, too? Tell me about them! I desperately need more subjects to collect data from."

He laughs, and his lips quirk up in a smile. "They're not really pleasant memories. Trying to escape a burning building. Being ambushed. Things that seem very vivid though they obviously never happened to me. My mom always told me I had an active imagination."

Something about what he says sparks something in me.

"I remember sneaking into a dusty schoolhouse."

He clears his throat. "I remember living in one."

For a moment we just stare at each other. A mutual appreciation of understanding passing between us. And despite all the difficult memories, I smile.

It really is good to find someone who finally understands.

"So, you need more subjects?" Hyx says, breaking the silence. "I suppose I'll agree to be a part of your experiment."

I grin almost manically. Definitely good.