PREVIOUSLY IN THE TIME TRAVELER’S WIFE...
“I’m Herbert George Wells, Ms. Lane. And I’ve come here looking for Mr. Kent.”
He stepped into the room without invitation. Lois’ eyebrows went up, but, after looking briefly at the door, decided to close it.
“I’ve come to fetch you, my boy,” Wells said. “You have to come back to the future with me. Everything depends on it.”AND NOW...
* * * * * * * * *
PART FIVE
‘Til Death Do Us Part’
* * * * * * * * *
“Would you like to take a seat, Mr. Wells?” Lois said, trying to get some control over the situation.
“Herb, please,” Wells corrected. “And yes, thank you.”
Lois gestured to Clark, pointing to one of the two chairs in the small kitchenette. Clark ignored her.
“I’m not going back, Herb. I’ve made my decision, and nothing you can say or do will get me to change my mind,” Clark said. “Now... if that’s all you came for...” He walked over the door and opened it, clearly inviting Wells to leave.
“Oh, dear. This really isn’t going well at all,” Wells said.
‘You think?’ Lois almost said, but at the last minute, bit her tongue. Instead, her eyebrows rose at the idiocy of Wells’ comment. Who was this man, anyway? “Wait a minute,” Lois said. “Did you say... Herbert George Wells?”
Wells nodded.
“As in... H.G. Wells, the author of The Time Machine?”
“One in the same,” Wells replied.
Lois raised her hands in the air in surrender. “Okay, wherever you are, you can come out now,” she said, glancing around the room. “I know I’m on Candid Camera.” She turned towards Clark. “That’s what this is, right. The whole... time travel, flying, other planet thing. This is just some elaborate Candid Camera set up. Okay, well, ha ha, you got me. It’s over.”
Clark quickly closed the door again.
“Now see what you’ve done,” Clark said to Wells, before slowly approaching Lois.
“Don’t touch me!” Lois said when he got near.
He held his hands towards her in a gesture of supplication. “Lois, there is no Candid Camera. No one has been playing you for a fool. And this really is H.G. Wells, author of The Time Machine. What most people don’t know is that in addition to writing a book about time travel, he also invented a machine to travel through time.”
“Quite right,” Wells said. “And I’ve been...”
A single look from Clark silenced him. When he was certain Wells wouldn’t interrupt again, he turned back to Lois.
“I used the plans Wells accidently left in my apartment to build the time machine you saw in my motel room. I wanted to come back to sav... meet you. Everything that has happened between us this past week has been real.” He paused, reaching out to place his hand on her chin, tilting her head up so that he could be sure he had full eye contact before continuing. “Everything.”
Lois searched his eyes, looking for deception, but couldn’t find any. It was the same open, slightly vulnerable look he’d given her from the beginning.
Not that he was telling her everything. She hadn’t missed his almost slip when he said he’d come back to meet her. And suddenly, she thought she understood. Given his response when she’d commented that they must know each other in 1997, the pieces seemed to come together in her mind. The problem wasn’t that they were enemies in 1997. The problem was that she didn’t survive until 1997.
She let out a slow breath. Less than ten years. That was why he was back here.
Still, she turned her mind to the other man currently looking very uncomfortable standing near the door.
“So why are you still here?” Lois asked Wells. “He said he’s not going back. And given his speed and strength, I really don’t see how you’re going to force him.”
“Please,” Wells said, addressing Lois now. “Let me explain things. If in the end, I can’t convince you that he needs to return... Well, I guess I’ll have no choice but to leave.”
Lois studied the strange little man for a moment before deciding that, regardless of what Clark decided to do, she was going to hear Wells out. “So then... talk,” she said. Her abruptness was due more to the fear now rolling through her belly than any particular desire to be rude.
“It doesn’t matter what he says,” Clark instantly informed her. “I’m not going.”
“Please, my boy. Just hear me out... and let her hear me out before making any rash decisions.”
Clark let out a breath, as if realizing he’d lost the argument. “Fine,” he said in resignation.
“Okay, then,” Lois said. “Why don’t you get Mr. Wells a chair?”
This time, Clark ceded to her request, picking up a kitchen chair and plopping it down none-too-gently next to Wells. Lois took a seat on the edge of the bed and looked up at Clark. He looked lost, as if not entirely certain what to do now. Her heart reached out to him. He wasn’t looking forward to this talk any more than she was. Patting the bed next to her, she silently invited him to join her. When he sat down, she took his hand, holding it between both of hers, suspecting that she would need his support before this was all over.
“Okay, Mr. Wells...”
“Herb please,” Wells said, interrupting her.
“Mr. Wells,” Lois repeated, a single raised eyebrow telling him that he’d better just state why he’d come as quickly and concisely as possible. After all, given what he wanted to do, Lois was not inclined to become his friend. “Why don’t you start at the beginning?”
“I told Clark back in 1997 that we didn’t know how a person going into the past and making changes would affect the future because no one had ever done it before. That is no longer the case. This past week you have been making changes to your past and each one ripples through time like a convulsion...”
Lois’ eyes widened at the use of the word ‘convulsion,’ but she said nothing.
“It tears through the fabric of time, changing what was once the past, in some cases drastically. I found you because I started searching for the source of one change in particular and discovered that it could be traced back to a truck that should have gone over the Hobbs River Bridge. It didn’t, due to some flying mystery man rescuing it. From there, I just did a number of short jumps forward in time, watching Ms. Lane, knowing that eventually you would have contact with her. And here you are.”
“Look... I don’t care,” Clark said. “I’m here. I’m staying and there is nothing you can do about it.”
“If you do that, you will eventually tear the timeline... your own past completely apart. If you were just an ordinary man, maybe you could get away with it. But you’re not an ordinary man. And putting you together at this point in time with this anything but ordinary woman...” Wells let out a breath as he marshaled his arguments. “When you saved that truck, you saved the life of a man who went on to... Well, I don’t know all the details, but what I do know is that he was upset about an editorial that appeared in the Daily Planet and he bought himself a high powered rifle and shot Perry White.”
“What?” Lois and Clark both gasped.
“Is Mr. White going to be okay?” Lois asked.
“I’m afraid I don’t know. As I said, it takes time for a change in time to affect the present. As soon as I realized that Mr. White had been shot, I immediately dedicated myself to looking for that change so that I could find out where you were and bring you back. Last I know, Perry White was fighting for his life at Metropolis General.”
“Clark?” Lois asked, turning fearful eyes on his.
Clark rose to his feet, obviously agitated. “None of that is my fault. You know why I have to stay,” he added, looking at Wells.
Wells rose to his feet as well. “My boy, none of the changes you’ve made to date have in any way changed... certain outcomes.”
Lois’ eyes narrowed on the careful choice of words and she noted the way Clark’s eyes flicked momentarily to her.
“Then you know I can’t leave,” Clark said. “I can’t go back. I just can’t. There’s nothing there for me. Besides, if Perry has already been shot, it’s not as if my going back now will save him.”
“If you don’t go back, Perry White is not the only one who will be affected. He’s only the first. My boy, in time, the very fabric of your world could be in danger,” Wells said. “Your very existence could be in danger. You must have noticed some difference, had some indication that your past is changing.”
“The headaches,” Lois said immediately.
“They’re nothing,” Clark said dismissively.
“What headaches?” Wells asked.
“He gets these periodic headaches,” Lois said, ignoring Clark’s obvious desire that she remain silent. “His body convulses. And... at least judging by the two I’ve seen, they’re getting worse.”
“His molecules are realigning themselves as the timeline adjusts itself. They would happen shortly after he did something that caused changes to the past. As the ripples of the past finally catch up to his own time, he would have to change to reflect those realities. It’s happening in the future, too. People don’t remember them, however, because after one has gone through, their memories are immediately readjusted to edit out the change. Your memories are not affected, I suspect, because you are in the past. But your body is still going through the changes that your world is experiencing.”
“The beard,” Lois said.
“What beard?” Wells asked.
“I forgot to shave this morning. Okay, so it grew a little bit faster than normal, but it was nothing.”
“After one of his convulsions, he suddenly had a beard. Is that connected?”
“I would imagine so. Something must have changed that caused him to decide to grow a beard in his own time and so his body when it realigned had a beard here, too.”
“Look, who cares?” Clark said. “I had a beard. Big deal. I shaved. It’s gone. End of discussion.”
“Don’t you understand, my boy?” Herb asked. “If your molecules are realigning themselves, then that is more than just a matter of shaving. It means that something is happening to your reality... on a molecular level. In time... your whole reality could cease to exist. And if that happens, you will cease to exist.”
“I don’t care!” Clark said. “I’m not leaving.” He glanced over at Lois before looking back at Wells. “I can’t. Don’t you understand that?”
“I understand that you want to sav... I understand. But if you destroy yourself in the process, what’s the point?”
“The point is...” He glanced at Lois, before quickly diverting his eyes. “You know what the point is,” he said instead.
Well’s opened his mouth to retort when Lois got there first.
“Mr. Wells, could Clark and I have some time to discuss this alone?”
Wells looked between Lois and Clark for a moment before nodding. “I’ll just be waiting...” He gestured to the door.
“No, you don’t understand,” Lois said, stopping him as he began to move towards the door. “Twenty-four hours,” she said, glancing at her watch. “Come back here at noon tomorrow.”
“Ms. Lane, I don’t think...”
“Noon tomorrow,” Lois repeated, stepping towards Wells so that Clark couldn’t see her face. “You’re not getting anywhere with Clark right now. Please... noon tomorrow.”
He seemed to catch on to what Lois was telling him. Clark might not care about his own fate, but Lois most certainly did. He was getting nowhere. He had no choice but to trust her.
“Noon tomorrow,” he finally said. “Well, then... I guess I’ll just have to leave this with the two of you - trust you to do the right thing.”
* * * * * * * * *
When H.G. Wells left, Lois walked over and picked up a paper bag sitting just inside the door and carried it into the kitchenette.
“What’s that?” Clark asked.
“The subs I picked up for lunch.”
“You want to eat lunch now?” Clark asked.
“Well, we could wait ‘til six, but then we’d have to call it supper,” Lois said, setting the bag on the table before turning her attention to the coffee maker.
“But... aren’t we going to talk about...”
“Not yet, Clark,” she immediately cut him off. “I just need... to get some things straight in my mind. Please?”
He let out a breath before nodding.
“So... Steak and cheese or vegetarian?” she asked, gesturing to the bag.
“Something tells me that’s a rhetorical question,” Clark answered, turning his attention to the bag while she began fixing coffee.
* * * * * * * * *
Clark would never have believed he could be awkward with Lois. But avoiding what was foremost on both of their minds was making conversation stilted and silences between comments seem to hang in the air between them. When he couldn’t stand it anymore, he finally spoke.
“I’m not going back, Lois,” he blurted out.
She raised her eyebrows momentarily but didn’t look up or in any other way acknowledge his comment.
“I promised I wouldn’t leave you. And I’m not going to go back on that.”
She finally looked up at him, the sadness in her eyes slicing through his heart. “I don’t think you have a choice.”
“Lois...”
“No, Clark. Listen to me. What I saw this morning... you on the floor... It scared the hell out of me. Wells is right. You have to go back because being here is killing you.”
“Lois, you’re over reacting. It will pass. It’s just a...”
“What?” she asked when he couldn’t find the words to complete his thoughts. “You convulse and suddenly... Oh, look, I grew a beard. What’s next? A hand missing? An arm? Where does it stop? We can’t even fight against that.” Her final comment wasn’t much more than a whisper.
He quickly moved his chair closer to hers, taking her hands from where she was shredding a napkin, to hold them between his.
“I’m not leaving you, Lois. I can’t. You don’t understand.”
She looked at him, her eyes clear as she held his gaze as if in a vice. “Yes, I do.”
“No, you don’t understand. You don’t know what’s at stake here.”
“Are you referring to the fact that if you leave I won’t live to see my thirtieth birthday?” she asked.
“How...”
She gave him a look as if to say that he should know better than even to ask that question.
“That was what you and Wells were so desperately trying not to say earlier, isn’t it?” she asked.
He couldn’t hold her eyes. He looked down. She slid one of her hands out of his so that she could place it under his chin, bringing his face back up to hers.
“We don’t know what’s going to happen in the future,” she said.
“Yes, we do. You heard Wells say that nothing I’ve done here has changed the fact that you die.”
“What I heard Wells say is that he left the future when Perry White was shot. What I heard Wells say is that he came back here, looking for you after you rescued that truck. You’ve had headaches since then, Clark. That means you’ve made more changes...”
“But...”
“That means Wells doesn’t know what’s going to happen any more than you or I.”
“I can’t take that risk. I don’t think I can go back to living without you.”
“Then tell me everything. Tell me how I die. And trust me to survive it this time.”
He looked at her, hope growing in his eyes. Then, just as quickly it went out. “No, Lois. That’s not good enough. I won’t take the chance. If I’m here...”
“You’ll likely die... or simply vanish... or however this works. And how would that help me survive?” She paused. “Clark, all I’m asking for is a chance to be with you. You going back to 1997 is the only way we will have that chance. Please. Give us that chance.”
He looked down, knowing he had been beaten.
“Hey, don’t look so sad,” Lois said, her voice deliberately light. “We’ve still got...” She glanced at the clock. “...almost twenty-three more hours before you have to leave. A lifetime, really.”
He knew this was tearing her apart just as much as it was him, but he loved her for trying. “So what do you want to do?” he asked, forcing himself to match her tone “Since I can fly... we can be anywhere in the world in minutes.”
“Really?”
He nodded. “So... where do you want to go? Anywhere in the world would work for me... or we don’t have to leave this room.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her. “Anything you want to do, that’s what we’ll do.”
Her expression turned unexpectedly serious. “Anything?”
“Absolutely anything,” he promised.
“Then I want to get married.”
He stared at her in shock.
“Unless... maybe you don’t want to marry me. Maybe I misunderstood what we were talking about here.” She quickly rose to her feet and began cleaning up their lunch things.
Married? Had she really just asked him to marry her?
* * * * * * * * *
She’d obviously misunderstood. She’d asked him to marry her and he hadn’t said anything. She’d thought they were... she didn’t know. Maybe she’d misunderstood everything. But she’d been prepared to wait for ten years just for the chance to be with him. And he’d seemed like he was willing to die to protect her.
But maybe it was all part of the whole superhero package. Maybe he would be offering the same for anyone. And maybe last night had just been... whatever. She had offered herself to him on a silver platter, after all. Maybe she was just taking this... thing between them far more seriously than he was. Well, obviously that must be the case.
She grabbed her cold coffee and took it into the bathroom to dump it in the sink.
“Lois, Lois, Lois...” Clark said, coming in behind her.
Ignoring him, she poured out her coffee and then tried to slip past him out of the bathroom.
His arms caught her, pulling her against him as she continued to struggle. The table still wasn’t cleared. She really should be thinking about doing a couple loads of laundry soon. And then there were those follow-up stories Perry wanted done. Maybe it wasn’t too late for her to...
Her thoughts trailed off when he took hold of her face between his hands and kissed her. Solidly. Passionately. Determinedly. She felt herself begin to melt against him as his hands released her face to pull her against him once again.
An eternity seemed to pass before the kiss slowly ended in a series of lighter kisses, as each kept moving back in, as if desperate for one last taste. Finally, Clark leaned his forehead against hers, closed his eyes and sighed.
* * * * * * * * *
“We need to talk,” Clark said once he had regained his equilibrium. Kissing Lois was far too distracting. Still, he needed to know if she had meant what she’d said and why she had even said it. And most important of all, he needed to dissuade her without giving her reason to doubt his feelings. She was twenty, for crying out loud. And it would be six years before they even met. The last thing she needed was a paper marriage to be a mill stone around her neck. She was young. She should be out having fun, experiencing the world, playing the field. It would be completely irresponsible for him to marry her now.
When she nodded, he took her hand, leading her out of the bathroom so that they could sit together on the side of the bed.
“So... was it my imagination or did you just ask me to marry you?” he asked.
She shrugged self-consciously. “Look, Clark, just forget I said anything. I just...”
“Wait, wait, wait. I think we need to talk about this.”
She didn’t look at him. He let out a breath, reaching out to rest a hand against her cheek so that he could bring her face up to his. “What I want to know is why, Lois? Why do you want to marry me?”
“Isn’t that what most people do when they’re in love?”
“Lois, you’re twenty years old. I’m thirty.”
“When were you born?” she asked.
“1966.”
“Well, then, technically, you’re only a year older than I am.”
“That’s not the point.”
“Then what is the point, Clark?”
“The point is that you’re too young to even be thinking about marriage. The point is that you’ve got too much living to do before deciding who you want to marry, or even if you want to get married.” He ran his hand through his hair. “I shouldn’t have even slept with you last night. That wasn’t fair to you.”
“Because you’re not sure what you want?” Lois asked.
“What? No! I know what I want.”
“And that would be?”
“You. Always you, but... Lois, you’re twenty!”
She raised an eyebrow. “I know how old I am, Clark.”
“Then how can you even want to do this?”
“I love you.”
He let out a breath. “I love you, too, but...”
“Clark, my mother married my father when she was twenty-one. She had me when she was twenty-two. My grandmother married my grandfather when she was eighteen. My great-grandmother...”
“Okay, I get the point. But things are different now than they were when your mother married your dad. You have more options. You don’t have to get married. You can be anything, do anything you want to be or do.”
“Do you plan to stop me from being an investigative reporter?”
“Of course not, but...”
“Then I don’t see how marrying you restricts my options.”
“Okay, then, assuming this plan of yours works and you do survive, it will be years before we can ever live together as husband and wife. Why would you want to tie yourself down like that?”
“So... it’s not that you don’t want to marry me?” she asked, searching his eyes now.
“Lois, there is nothing I want more than for you to be my wife. But it’s not fair to you to...”
“Do you really think there will be someone... anyone else? That I’m interested in playing the field, always knowing that I’m doing nothing more than ‘playing.’ Clark, I already know who I’m waiting to meet. I’m not going to go out now and start playing the field. I never did before and whether or not we get married today or wait for another ten years, there won’t be anyone else.”
“Six years.”
“But... you said 1997?”
“I go to work for the Planet in 1993.”
“1993? Do we ever... meet?” Lois asked, momentarily distracted.
Clark shook his head. “You disappear on a trip to the Congo to investigate a gun running story shortly before I arrive at the Planet. April 1993. I got a job at the Planet in June.”
She took a moment to ponder that before returning to her previous train of thought. “So... only six years, then. If I do manage to survive. You really think I don’t love you enough to wait for six years? Wait a minute? In the Bible... wasn’t there a story about someone working for six years because he... or was that she... wanted to marry someone?”
“Jacob... And it was actually seven years. He worked for Laban for seven years because he wanted to marry his daughter, Rachel. But when the time came for him to claim his bride, her father married him to his other daughter, Leah, instead.”
“Hold it! I thought he got to marry the one he loved?”
“He did. But he had to work for Laban for another seven years.”
“So he worked for fourteen years to be with the woman he loved. And you think I have a problem with just waiting for six years? If Jacob could work for fourteen years to be with the woman he loved, waiting for six years for the man I love will be a walk in the park.”
“But...”
“Clark, I know you think I’m only twenty - what could I possibly know about love and life? But I’ve always known my own mind. I know what I want out of my life. I want to be an investigative reporter and... I want to be your wife. My dad couldn’t change my mind about the first decision and trust me, he tried, and nothing...” She made sure she had full eye contact before continuing. “...nothing will change my mind about the second.
“And if this doesn’t work. If I don’t... survive, will you grieve my loss less if we don’t get married? And if I don’t survive... I want to know...” She paused, as if marshaling her thoughts. “I want to know what it’s like to marry the man I love.”
Clark stared at her for a long moment, digesting her words. He already knew there had been no significant other in her life in 1993. And looking in her eyes and listening to her words, he knew that she would wait for him, regardless of how long it was. She was Lois Lane, after all. And everything he’d learned about her while searching for her this past year confirmed what she was telling him. She’d always known her own mind, what she wanted and how to go about getting it. And... oh god, how he wanted to marry her.
“Well, then,” he finally said. “Let’s see if I can get this right.” He got up off the side of the bed, dropping down on one knee in front of her. “Lois Lane, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
She didn’t answer with words, but by the way she threw herself into his arms and captured his lips with her own, he got the message.
* * * * * * * * *
Clark looked around in dismay. By the time they’d arrived in Vegas, obtained a license and made arrangements, there hadn’t been much choice left in wedding chapels available at the last minute. Still, there must be something better than this.
“Number forty-two!” an exhausted looking man in an Elvis costume bellowed from a curtain covered doorway at the back of the building. “Number forty-two!”
Number forty-two... Or at least that’s who Clark assumed the young couple who rose to their feet must be... joined him at the curtain and gave him their number.
“Well, don’t dawdle,” Elvis said. “I need you to sign here and here and here.”
He got the appropriate signatures and then the three of them disappeared into the back.
“Let’s get out of here,” Clark said, turning to Lois.
“Why?” Lois asked.
“This can’t possibly be how you dreamt your wedding would be,” he said, gesturing around them.
“Marrying the man I love... Nope, you’re right. That was hardly my plan.”
“Lois, you know what I mean.”
“Clark, sit down,” she said, tugging at his hand until he took a seat next to her. “Okay, if you had asked me when I was a little girl what my marriage would be like, I’d probably have told you that a horse-drawn carriage would take me to a large castle where my prince would be waiting. People would line the streets, cheering. And when the minister pronounced us husband and wife, thousands of white doves would be released and the Vienna Boys Choir would burst into song.”
“See... that’s exactly what I’m talking about.”
“But what I failed to take into account was that I would have undoubtedly stepped in horse dung when I got out of the carriage in front of the drafty castle; the people lining the streets would have turned into an angry mob; the doves would have left droppings on all my guests; my prince would likely have turned out to be the biggest crime lord in Metropolis and the police would have invaded my wedding with arrest papers, interrupting the Vienna Boys Choir anyway.” She smiled. “I’m not getting weddinged today,” she said softly. “I’m getting married. To the man I love. To the strongest, gentlest, most caring man I’ve ever known. What could be more perfect than that?”
Clark’s expression softened.
“Forty-three! Number forty-three!” Elvis bellowed from the back of the room.
Lois smiled as she rose to her feet. “So... how about it number forty-three? Wanna get married?”
Clark rose to his feet before suddenly looking at her in dismay. “Lois, I forgot.”
“Forgot what?”
“Rings! I forgot to get rings.”
Lois smiled. “Forget about rings. I wouldn’t be able to wear one now anyway... Not without having a whole lot of unanswerable questions directed my way.”
“But...”
“You just be sure you have that ring waiting for me when I get to the future.” She reached up, pulling his head down for a quick kiss.
Clark looked at her in disbelief. “Are you sure?”
“I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life.”
“Forty-three!” Elvis bellowed again.
“Well, come on forty-three,” Clark said, his face lighting up in a smile as he reached for her hand. “And don’t dawdle. We’ve got a lot of papers to sign.”
* * * * * * * * *
It had been the most perfect wedding Lois had ever attended, she thought as she leaned her head against Clark’s shoulder while he carried her over the threshold at the suite at the Marriott he had insisted they check into for the night. After all, he had argued, they were only going to get one wedding night.
I, Clark Kent, take thee, Lois Lane, to be my wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, forsaking all others, 'til death do us part, according to God's holy ordinance; and thereto I pledge thee my troth.
Never had she heard sweeter words. And as she’d looked into his eyes and seen his love for her reflected back as he’d said those words, their surroundings had faded and her heart had swelled and she’d become that princess riding up to the castle in her horse-drawn carriage to marry her prince.
“Hey, that’s a great smile,” Clark said, as he set her on her feet.
“Yeah, well I was just thinking what a perfect wedding that was.”
His own smile grew. “Yeah, it was pretty special wasn’t it. So... what do you want to do now?” He glanced around them. “Maybe we could see if they have some board games around here for us to...”
He was suddenly spun around into her arms so that she could kiss him.
“Or... we could do this,” he said when the kiss finally broke. His eyes flicked down to her swollen lips. “Oh yeah,” he said, his voice husky. “definitely this.”
Lois giggled when he swept her up into his arms so that he could carry her to the bedroom.
* * * * * * * * *
Lois drew lazy patterns on Clark’s chests as she lay cuddled in his arms. Their passion spent, they had settled into the comfortable world of after glow. She had to admit, she was exhausted. But she had no intention of sleeping. There would be plenty of time for sleep when he... Her mind quickly shied away from that thought.
She still had so many questions. So many things she wanted to know. Where to start was the hard part.
“A penny for your thoughts,” Clark said, leaning closer to plant a soft kiss on the tip of her nose.
“I guess there is one thing puzzling me,” she said. She rolled onto her side, propping her head up with her hand so that she could look at him. He rolled on his side to face her.
“Shoot,” he said, reaching out to brush a strand of hair behind her ear.
For a moment she was distracted by the feather-like touch. But she quickly gathered her thoughts. “You never met me before I died, right?”
“That’s right.”
“And yet you came back in time to save me. So... why? Why me?”
TO BE CONTINUED...
ML
