“No.” He tears down hard against his too-strong restraints. “I don’t want you to do this.”
Taking both his arms in mine, I hold him still. “You said it yourself. One man solving time travel? Impossible. And you were right.”
“I didn’t mean that. I believe in you, August. You can do anything.”
I take a final look at him, the man I adore, who’s shown me not just what’s worth living for, but what’s worth dying for. “I wish I were half the man you are. I wish I had been back then. I wouldn’t have done it. But I think I’m a little better now.”
I pull away, tearing my hand from the face that I’d never imagined would become everything to me.
“Let me go. I will help you. August!”
“I’m sorry. I have to leave you.”
“August!”
I turn back one last time. “I’ll call the police an hour from now. And I’ll call your landlady. I’ll make sure someone finds you soon. Here’s the key.” I place it on the closed lid of his record player.
“August!” I try to ignore him, to walk away, but he throws out one final plea. “Kiss me? Kiss me goodbye.”
I drop to the bed, as if it were a coffin I wish I could fall into. Then I wrap my arms around his neck and cry. Horrible, heaving sobs, where I hold on to him and wish, wish for the billionth time I’d never done it. That I hadn’t made that one bad decision.
And I kiss him. One last time. I try to push down the storm inside and plead, “You understand, if there were any other way,I’d choose you. A thousand lifetimes, and I’d choose you in every one. You mean the world to me. August, I’ve fallen for you. I don’t want you to think, for even a second, that I’d ever not choose you.”
“Don’t do this. Please. Please don’t go. Please!”
“I have to.”
“August!”
My name, our name, screamed in pain.
I turn my back, walk away, and close the door on him.
“August!”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
GOOD AUGUST
THIS AIN’T A LOVE SONG
Agony rips through my back as I slam into the headboard for the billionth time. It shakes, but it won’t budge. “Mrs Huang!” I scream for my landlady again. She can’t hear me, I know that, but I try anyway. She can’t be at Mahjong already. The room’s still bright red, like this weird sunrise won’t lift, but it must be at least half an hour since he left. I thrash back, my spine screaming. Then I crumple, and cry more of these useless tears.
How can I be this hopeless? How can he be about to kill himself, and I’m stuck here chained to this fucking bed?
I roll over, crossing my arms, pulling as hard as I can, kicking the headboard, kicking the wall, and none of it does a thing.
My forehead drops against the solid mahogany in defeat.
Please, August. Please don’t do anything stupid.
Then a sound.
A scuff of shoes on the concrete outside.
And like a miracle, a knock on my door.
“Help! Help me, please! I’m trapped! Help!”
