Page 231 of Time Stops With You

“9!”

A tear slips down her cheek.

“Christmas wouldn’t be over in thirty minutes. It would start in November. And on Christmas Day, he’d give you a present that was wrapped with actual gift paper. You’d open it to find a diamond necklace.”

“8!”

“After the kids grow up and go off to college, he’d take you on a cruise around the Caribbean for your thirtieth anniversary.”

“7!”

“You’d talk to him about Belize so much that you’d retire there. He’d build a house in the islands where you’d swim during the day, cook the food you love in the evenings, and look up at the stars at night.”

Nardi’s lashes are heavy with tears.

“6!”

“When you’re not strong enough to swim and your hair’s thinning and grey and you can’t even walk anymore, he’d roll you around in your wheelchair. He’d take you out on the porch to watch the Caribbean sunset. You’d hold his hand and be grateful for a long, fruitful life, the exact life you wanted.”

“5!”

“What about you?” Nardi whispers tearfully. “Where are you in that world where we never met?”

“I…” my voice gets scratchy, “long before you meet him, I’d probably have passed you on the street. Probably caught a whiff of your scent or seen you smile. And my heart would stop.” I squeeze my eyes shut. “Something about you would call to me. I’d want to come over to you. But I wouldn’t.”

Nardi hangs her head and covers her mouth, her shoulders shaking.

“4!”

“You’d go in your direction and I’d go in mine.”

“3!”

“And I’d never even know your name,” I whisper, my Adam’s apple bobbing.

Nardi looks up, her face wet with tears. Anger burns from the depths of her watery eyes. “That’s a really stupid wish.”

“2!”

“There is no world, no universe, no galaxy where I’d want to fall for anyone but you, Cullen.”

“1!”

As the soundtrack of fireworks plays in the background, Nardi rises on her tiptoes, grabs hold of my shoulders for balance and kisses me. It’s the slightest meeting of lips, a quiet, reverent touch, like two hands pressed together in prayer.

The salt of her tears coats her lips and it breaks me. I’ve only ever wanted to taste Nardi’s pleasure. Not her sorrow, not her heartbreak, not her hurt.

She leans back and my hands tighten on her waist to keep her in place.

She returns to the flat of her feet and whispers, “You could turn back time and I’d still make this choice. I’d come back to this moment over and over again.”

Nardi leans in and kisses me a second time. Her fingers dig into the back of my neck. The pain hardly registers in my brain. I taste her anger more than her tears this time. Her mouth slides over mine impatiently and I respond.

Drawing her close to me, I kiss her like the world is ending.

Because for me, it is.

No matter how desperately my lips chase hers, no matter how tightly I hold her, no matter how I wish things were different, death is inevitable.

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