Page 141 of Once a Villain
“You’re still here!” Jamie said hoarsely, tears of relief in his voice. He threw his arms around Tom’s neck.
“Not just me,” Tom said. He pointed at Frankie and Sylvie, who were still nestled safely in their backpacks, their little furry heads peeking curiously out.
Ruth was here too, her dark curls rumpled. Joan released Nick to hug her too, and Ruth’s arms folded around Joan’s back, squeezing. “Do you think we’re home?” Ruth whispered shakily.
Joan pulled back. They’d landed on a cold autumn morning. Browning leaves littered the grass, and the air smelled damp and botanical. Ahead of them, Holland House was just as it had beenin the timeline before Eleanor’s: a beautiful, ruined facade. “We’d need to see the street to know.” Even as she said it, her throat tightened. How could they be home when Aaron was gone? The shock of it hit her again. She couldn’t bear it.
“I’ll go and check,” Nick said softly.
Joan suddenly needed to move. She couldn’t just kneel here in the place where Aaron had vanished. “I’ll come with you.”
Nick put an arm around her, tugging her close, as they walked up the path by the lawn, making their way to the main road. Fallen leaves crunched underfoot, and Joan blinked through tears at the thinning trees, at the sky.
At the gate, she stared at the familiar busy intersection of Kensington High Street, at the cars and people and shops. The architecture and fashion were familiar again. No one was wearing a numbered pendant.
“It looks like home,” Nick said softly.
It wasn’t home. Aaron had jumped into the void, and there was no coming back from that. He’d been consumed by the nothingness between worlds, and now it was as if he’d never existed. He’d never be reborn, not if there were a thousand more lifetimes after this.
Joan had been so homesick. She’d imagined coming back so many times. Now that she was here, though, she just felt empty. “What are we going to do?” Her voice came out hollow.
A familiar voice sounded nearby then, all posh, clipped vowels. “Well... I don’t know about you, butIneed a hot shower and a change of clothes. And then—I think we had plans for a date?”
Joan turned fast and stared.
Aaron was walking toward them across the lawn, beautiful and perfect and put together as ever, his gray eyes softer than Joan had ever seen them.
He was alive. He wasalive.
His pace sped up, but Joan was already moving too. She heard herself sob as she threw herself into his arms. He hugged her back fiercely, his own relief evident, despite his casual tone. Joan felt his other arm open as Nick joined them.
“How?” Joan managed. She never wanted to let him go. “You jumped into the void!”
“I know,” Aaron said, voice breaking a little—not quite a laugh or a sob. “It was like jumping into the gap between stars—I thought I’d never stop falling.”
Nick pulled them both closer, instinctively protective.
“We thought we’d lost you.” Joan heard her voice crack.
Aaron shook his head slightly. “This is going to sound strange, but I think the timeline spoke to me. Not in words, but... It knew that we’d freed it, and it was grateful. It wanted to give me a gift. To giveyoua gift. To thank us.” He looked shy suddenly. “So here I am.”
Epilogue
Joan shielded her eyes. She lay on a sun-warmed picnic blanket, her head in Aaron’s lap and Nick propped up against her crooked knees. It had been a year since they’d arrived back home, and Aaron had suggested they do something on the anniversary.To celebrate, he’d said.To remember.
“Aren’t you worried about grass stains?” Joan asked Aaron now. He was in a heather-gray suit—some things never changed—with his back against a tree.
Aaron seemed amused by the question. He bent to kiss her forehead. “No.”
Nick made a soft sound of contentment. “Are we actually going to eat this picnic?”
“I mean... ,” Aaron murmured, a smile warming his voice. He looked at Nick, who gave him a thoughtful look back.
Joan’s face was already pink from the sun, but she could feel herself reddening more. “We’re outside,” she said, laughing.
Aaron looked down at her, his expression so soft that Joan’s breath caught. He’d never looked at her like that in any other timeline. He ran his thumb along the flush at her cheekbone. He liked making her blush, Joan had learned. “Onmyestate,” he pointed out. “My very large, veryprivateestate.”
“We invited people to lunch,” Joan reminded him.
