Page 82 of Time After Time
It felt almost like that dream, the one where everything had shifted in an instant. Mr. Whiskers, with one swift paw, knocked the box from the shelf, and in that small movement, everything seemed to change.
“Thank you, Mr. Whiskers.” The words slipped out before I could stop them. I wasn’t sure why I said them, but maybe it was because the box had been so high up, and I would’ve wasted too much time trying to find something to stand on.
Yeah, that had to be it.
Chapter 23
Sebastian
Closing the front door of my parents’ house softly behind me, I walked with shaky limbs and a shattered heart towards my old room. Or at least, I intended to make my way to the darkness of it before Robert came through the front door, laughing and shutting voices behind him as he closed it. When his gaze met mine, the smile evaporated from his face.
The empty wine bottle he’d been holding tipped over and rolled away with a dull clink as he stared at me, his eyes flickering between mine with concern. He was closer now, his brow furrowed in a mix of worry and something else—something I couldn’t name but felt heavy between us. His gaze swept over my face, lingering on the dark circles under my eyes and the streaks left by tears I’d tried and failed to swallow back. I could feel the tremble in my hands and the tightness in my throat, every bit of exhaustion and fear laid bare. He didn’t say anything, just watched me with that look, and I hated how easy it was for him to see right through me.
He opened his mouth, my name barely a breath on his lips, but I cut him off. “I told her.” He sighed, eyes drifting over my tired face, the red-rimmed eyes. He didn’t have to ask. I wouldn’tbe here nor have this expression if she had said she felt the same or… for that matter, if she had said anything at all. “I told her I love her, and she just stood there, looking at me without saying anything.” My voice wavered, replaying the image of Gen’s tear-filled eyes, the way her face had gone pale, as if the blood had drained away all at once. My heart pounded, wild and erratic, each beat hammering in my throat, rattling my ribs, desperate to break free. “What now?” I croaked, barely holding it together.
Robert’s mouth turned down at the corners, his expression betraying his struggle to find words. Without another moment’s pause, he stepped forward, wrapping his arms around me in a firm embrace.
He tightened his grip, as if trying to hold together the pieces of me that felt like they were falling apart. In his arms, I cried harder, my anguish spilling out, and I felt the weight of my confession hanging heavy on my shoulders, knowing that silence would have been no less devastating.
I cried not only because I was losing a love that never truly was mine, but also because now I was facing the reality of losing her entirely.
“I’m going to take a quick shower, and then I’ll help with dinner.”
The St. James were in the backyard, gathered for our annual summer meal. Even though all I wanted was to hide away in my room, I couldn’t bring myself to miss this chance to be with them, especially since I’d be leaving in a week. I resolved to make the most of the evening, even if it meant keeping my eyes on the ground to avoid Gen’s gaze… if she even chose to come here after what I’d said.
“You don’t have to.”
“I want to,” I whispered. He nodded his head, eyes closing momentarily as he offered a sad grin. “Thank you, Dad.”
The shock on his face was evident, and any sadness evaporated from his face as he stared at me with glossy eyes. “Always here for you, son.”
Just as I was about to turn and head to my room, the sound of my name being called stopped me. Robert and I exchanged confused glances, and when the calls grew more insistent, we both rushed outside.
As we reached the backyard, the scene that greeted us left me standing there, rooted to the spot in stunned disbelief.
My mum had ordered fairy lights online and draped them all over the backyard. She’d envisioned them for nights like these—when we’d sit under the stars, sharing stories of our days or just enjoying the calm, cool breeze of summer evenings. The wooden table she’d painstakingly restored was set up right under the shimmering lights, adorned with clusters of artificial blooms, and already covered with a spread of mouthwatering dishes.
But what really drew my attention was the look of concern and confusion on my mum’s face, mirrored by the St. James family. Sylvie, however, stood out—her eyes were wide with excitement as she smiled broadly, rubbing her hands together in anticipation.
Her gaze was fixed intently on the girl standing not too far from Robert and me.
Gen’s hair was a wild tangle of curls, with a stray leaf caught in her locks. Even from where I stood, only seeing her profile, I could see her chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. She turned her head, her gaze scanning the area with a sense of urgency, as if she was searching for something—or someone—in the dim glow of the fairy lights.
Sylvie called out her name, drawing Gen’s attention. Her sister then pointed in my direction, and a wave of dread washed over me.
I wished desperately that I had stayed inside, where I could avoid facing her.
When Gen turned to face me, I wanted to curse myself for how my body betrayed me. A shiver ran down my spine, and butterflies fluttered in my throat, as if they were trying to burst free. Goosebumps prickled my skin, and despite everything, my mind was already spinning with visions of a future together, each one more vivid and impossible than the last.
I tried to avert my eyes, looking down to avoid meeting her gaze any longer. That’s when I noticed the rip in her new pink dress, frayed around her knees and revealing one of her legs. The fabric was stained with what looked like blood, and my heart sank. I looked up at her, my concern growing, and noticed she was clutching something in her hands, though I couldn’t see clearly what it was.
My gaze shifted to the side, and I saw her bike propped awkwardly nearby. It was clear she wasn’t entirely steady on it. The way she winced as she stood suggested she’d rushed here in a hurry, and the possibility that she’d fallen off only added to my worry.
I felt an overwhelming urge to step forward, to ask if she was okay and offer to tend to her wounds. Every instinct screamed at me to help her, to take care of the pain I could see and the distress I could sense.
“Gen, sweetheart?” Michael’s voice called out, but she didn’t look his way, shaking her head dismissively. She let the box she was holding drop onto the picnic table with a clatter, sending a few dishes rattling and causing one of my mum’s favourite pieces of cutlery to fall to the ground. “Gen?”
She didn’t respond, her attention entirely on the box in front of her.
