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And he is mine now. He’s mine again, corrects some other, wiser voice in my head.
In twenty-four hours I changed my life, entirely for the better. Maybe I am dying, but if that’s true, why does it feel like my life has just begun?
“It’s not about us,” I gasp, sitting up. “It’s about the baby. In that dream I always have of us in the hospital? We’re there because I’m delivering, and that’s when she stops us. She doesn’t want us to have the baby.”
“No, it’s worked out fucking terribly. So I say if something you want scares the hell out of you, go for it. Because the other way isn’t working.”
“I hope you know what you’re doing. It’s a hard life.” “Time traveling?” He shakes his head, staring at the rope in his weathered hands. “No,” he says. “Being the one who has to stay behind.”
“I knew he was after you from the first fucking moment he looked at you. You weren’t even conscious, and I knew.
It’s a very large oval diamond, surrounded by tiny ones. The exact ring Quinn described. Which means my grandfather and I have had this conversation before.
“My dad told me this story when I was a kid, about the good wind and the bad wind, and how you had to let them both in. I always thought it was his way of telling me not to be scared of storms, but that morning on the way to the airport, I finally realized it had nothing to do with weather. It was about opening yourself up, risking all the bad that can come along with the good, because without it you will suffocate. And I knew I was suffocating.”
It feels like whoever’s changing your life has stolen something from me. I should have taken you to Prom. I should have been your first kiss, your first everything, and I fucking hate that I wasn’t.”
“I’m so in love with you I can’t even breathe when I imagine you not here, and I’ll never be able to live with myself if I don’t at least try to find her. So don’t ask it of me.”
“Souhaitez-vous que je vous lise les lignes de la main?”
He drops to one knee. His face is every bit as sweet, as earnest, as it was when he was a teenager. He looks at me as if I hold his entire world in the palm of my hand, as if I’m his to crush or to keep. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a black velvet box.
“Marry me,” Nick says. People around us are listening, so his voice drops to add, “in this lifetime and any others we find ourselves in.”
“Yes,” I whisper. “In this lifetime and all the other ones, I will only want you.”
