Oliver rests his elbows on his knees and cradles his throbbing head in his hands.
He knows. Knew it the moment she kissed him, when her lips met his and it stopped his heart and his breath and time, took everything in him to pull away from her. Knew it, when the soft lilt of her voice traveled across the stone of St. Paul’s and into his dreams. Knew it, when he looked into her mismatched eyes and told her he was a fool. Because he was. Is.
He lets his head fall back against the couch, defeated. “What kind of asshole falls in love when they’re dying?”
Luke grins.
“I love her,” Oliver admits. “But it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t change anything.”
“Of course it matters,” Luke says.
“I don’t want to hurt her.” But he already has, hasn’t he? His guts twist.
Zoë sinks onto the couch beside him. “Then you have to talk to her. Even if it’s only to say goodbye.”
She’s right. He can’t leave Beatrix like that, can’t let it end this way. A goodbye is the least he owes her.
Zoë squeezes his hand. “You’re going to break her heart either way.”
“I know.” And he hates it.
July 14, 2202Boston, Massachusetts
“I don’t have the clearance to program your excursion as requested,” Lucy says matter-of-factly. The words Request Denied glow in dazzling white on the display in front of her, reflected in reverse on the lenses of her reading glasses.
The trans-temporal chamber hums behind her. Empty. Waiting.
Oliver slumps back in his chair. He had asked her to send him back to Barnbow. To Beatrix, a minute after he left her. Lucy laughed until she realized he was serious.
“Excursions to consecutive times—typically used to create the illusion of staying somewhere for durations longer than twelve hours—take meticulous planning. It will take two weeks to prepare.”
“Two weeks?” He doesn’t have that kind of time.
“It’s all in the fine print, Mr. Rhodes. Right after the section on butterflies.”
Oliver scrubs his hands over his face. “Whatdoyou have the clearance for?”
Lucy swivels to the desk and types rapidly on her tablet. She slides it over to Oliver. “The Excursion Research Department has proposed an alternative. If you approve, you can complete your excursion today.”
The screen glows bright and his vision blurs. He squeezes his eyes shut.
“Mr. Rhodes? Are you all right?” Lucy asks.
His eyes shoot open. “I’m fine.” He straightens and takes the tablet from her. He skims the plan, trying to focus on the words.
Lucy can get him to the same location on the same day. But he left Beatrix just after sunrise. This won’t return him until—his vision spots and he blinks, trying to clear it. He looks at the time and his heart sinks. Twelve hours later.
“It’s the best I can do,” Lucy says firmly. If he wants to see Beatrix today, this is his only option.
Oliver approves the excursion plan. He has to make things right with Beatrix. Even if it is a goodbye.
Even if he breaks her heart.
December 6, 1920Barnbow, England
The plush green carpet muffles Oliver’s footsteps as he walks down the hall, his hands shoved deep into his coat pockets. He fidgets with the quarter there, desperate for any luck he can get. He finds his room and listens at the door. Silence.
He knocks, waits, his heart pounding in his skull. He had been an idiot. Now, all he wants is a chance to tell Beatrix as much.
