Page 98 of Somewhere Without You
I snapped the mirror shut and turned away, heart pounding. It all made sense now—the letters, the satchel, that quiet, persistent ache in my chest. The feeling that we’d done this before.
“What are we now?” I asked.
Pain and wonder etched across his face. “I think we’re what happens when love doesn’t end the way it was supposed to.”
I looked at James, and knew with bone-deep certainty that I had been his wife, Charlotte. That we had loved each other fiercely in some forgotten time.
But that would mean. . .
“Logan,”I said, his name ripping from my mouth like a gasp.“Where is he? If I was once Charlotte, and we were meant to be. . . what does that make me now, as Emily, to Logan?”
James leaned in, his lips brushing mine as he whispered,“Whatever life you’re living, Charlotte or Emily. . . I will find you in every one.”
Then he kissed me. It was hard and desperate, like time itself was collapsing around us. Like he had waited lifetimes for this moment and couldn’t afford to waste it.
My arms curled around his neck, pulling him closer as the sound of death echoed around us. I didn’t want to let go. I held him like he was the last real thing in a world unraveling.
Outside, the wind howled, rising into a storm as the canvas tent flapped violently around us. I wanted to scream at the world to stop. Just for a second. To give us one more minute before everything came undone. But time didn’t pause for love. It never had.
I pulled back to tell him all the things I never had the chance to say. That I loved him. That I was here. That I remembered. But James was no longer James.
He was Logan.
The ground beneath us shifted, and the walls of the tent melted away, revealing wisps of clouds drifting lazily overhead. Around us, tall grass swayed in rhythm with the breeze, and somewhere nearby, bees hummed over wildflowers.
We were lying on our backs in the field behind the farmhouse, the sun warming my face. Logan’s hand was laced with mine, our fingers threaded together like we’d done a thousand times before.
“You found me,”I said, tears slipping quietly into my hair.“Across time. Across death. You found me.”
He squeezed my hand.“I always will.”
“I remember now.”My voice wavered, not from uncertainty but awe.“You were James, just like I was Charlotte. Different names. Different lives. But the same us.”
He looked over at me, his tawny eyes warm and bright.“Crazy huh?”
A gentle breeze drifted between us, rustling the tall grass as we lay side by side. I knew what him being here meant, and I wasn’t ready to face it. Not yet.
“I think I liked being James,”he said.“There was something about galloping across open fields with the wind at my back, riding a horse that didn’t want to be tamed.”
I rolled my eyes.“You just miss the uniform.”
“Can you blame me?”He laughed.“Those coats were kind of badass.”
I nudged him gently.“You only liked them because they made your shoulders look heroic.”
Logan grinned.“They did look heroic. And don’t even get me started on the boots. I had a whole strut going on.”
“Oh, I remember,”I said, laughing now.“God you were so dramatic, you still are.”
“I was committed,”he said proudly.“James was a man of principle—and flair.”
We lay there for a moment longer, catching our breath from the laughter. And for a fleeting second, it was easy to pretend none of this was temporary. That this moment, this fragile joy, could last.
He turned his head toward me, eyes soft.“You know, if we get another life, I hope I meet you somewhere crazy. Like ancient Greece, or maybe a pirate ship.”
“Oh, definitely a pirate ship,”I said, laughing.“You’d make a terrible pirate.”
“I’d be amazing,”he insisted.“I’d have a sword, and a tragic backstory. You wouldn’t stand a chance.”
