Page 118 of Meet Me on Greenwood

He shook his head trying to reconcile whatever he thought I would say with the actual words that came from my mouth.

"I am not from here." I reached for the ORI. "This is called a cellphone. I have retrofitted it to work on brain waves that allow a person to reprocess memories, only it malfunctioned and now I’m here."

Once I started, I couldn’t stop. I told him about the development of the tool, how I’d implemented it successfully, and how something went wrong and I ended up in 1920.

"I thought I’d have to wait a decade to be able to recharge this, but all I needed is right here. And now I have to go back."

After ten minutes of explanation, Houston just looked at me. "You’re leaving," he said. It wasn’t a question; it was a realization.

"I have to get back to my life, my sister, my career."

"Career?" he repeated.

"I’m a researcher. A doctor, yes, but I have spent nearly two decades of my life bringing the ORI to life. I graduated from Johns Hopkins, it was just in the future."

"Why did you come here?"

"It was a mistake. "

Houston winced as if my choice of words had wounded him.

"What if it wasn’t?" he said. "What if your machine took you exactly where you needed to go? Where you could get what you needed from it. What if it was meant to bring us together?"

My thoughts strayed briefly to the conversation I’d had earlier with Sally, but I quickly dismissed it.

"Are you saying the ORI meant to bring me to this time?"

"Think about it. You landed right in front of my car. How is that coincidence? It wanted you to find me."

"So I could love you and not have you?"

His nostrils flared at my confession. He reached in his pocket and pulled out a velvet box that held a ring set with a princess cut diamond. "Darling, you have me. You’ve always had me. I want to marry you. I want to start a family if that is what you want. I want to live with you, and Lettie, and Paul out on a farm somewhere. I don’t care where, as long as it is with you."

I looked down at the ring, realizing what he said could be true. I’d wanted a great love. Longed for it even. And here it was, on a bended knee, staring me in the face.

"Is that for me?" I whispered.

"It was my mother’s, the one thing she was able to leave me. Rita helped me get it sized."

My eyes widened, realizing she’d known the whole time. He stood, grabbing my hand. "Don’t go, at least not yet. I want more time with you. Please."

He held my hand to his mouth.

"Houston," I whispered.

"Don't say no," he said, rising to stand. "Not yet. Just—don't say no yet."

I looked up at him. This man who had dismantled his carefully constructed life piece by piece, and now he was offering me the rest of it.

I had ached for this. I had ached for it my entire life and filed that aching away under things that would have to wait, and here it was.

I reached up and pulled his lips down to mine.

The kiss started slow, until it wasn’t. It was all the things we hadn't said and all the things we had. His hands were in my hair, and mine were gripping the front of his jacket. Houston kissed me like it was his last opportunity, like he knew this moment was fleeting and he intended to be as thorough and entirely focused as possible. He claimed me like his lips alone could change my mind.

He pulled back, resting his forehead against mine. We were both breathing unevenly.

"Is that a yes?" he murmured.