Page 47 of When I Found You

I swipe my tears away and sniff.

“What’s wrong?” His tone is gentle, and I know I have to tell him the truth even though it’s unfathomable.

Mustering all the courage I have, I take a breath and face him. “There’s something you should know.”

He leans forward to kiss me, and I stop him, my hand against his chest. Concern fills his steel blue gaze.

“My name is Katherine Cohen.” I brace myself and push through. “And I’m from the future.”

Whatever expression I expected, Arthur exceeds it with spectacular flourish. Disbelief makes him laugh, but when I don’t join in, he sobers instantly.

I know whatever we shared has fractured, and I wish I could take it back the moment he releases me and puts space between us. The last year of my life might have been horrible, but it’s nothing compared to the pain of the man I love staring at me the way he is now.

Chapter Twenty

Arthur

Part of me thinks this is a joke, but her expression is fragile and earnest. I shake my head and step back, running my hand through my hair. She reaches for me, but I need answers first. Her touch will only cloud me with confusion.

I need to think, damn it, but it’s difficult when her scent still clings to me and the evidence of our lovemaking surrounds us. I snatch the towel off the floor and wrap it around my waist.

Kate does the same, wrapping the fabric tightly around her torso. I’m almost saddened at the loss but right now I need to focus. Both of us being naked doesn’t help at all.

Her eyes fill with tears and she bites her lower lip. She’s searching for something to say, I can almost see the gears spinning in her mind.

She can’t be serious, can she? Cohen? As in Victor Cohen, my colleague? None of this makes any sense. After spending my whole life in this city, I’ve heard some crazy stories, but this one definitely takes the grand prize. I can’t help but feel like she’s toying with me, but she’s upset and I can tell it’s sincere. I groan and try to face this information with an analytical mind.

“Katherine Cohen.” When I speak her name, she snaps to attention. “That’s your full birth name.”

She nods and a sad smile parts her lips. “Mom didn’t want me to have a middle name.”

“And your date of birth?” I monitor her reaction to each question carefully.

“June 24, 1985.” She cringes.

“I see.” But I really don’t. If she’s telling me the truth, then she hasn’t even been born yet. “And you’re from the city?”

“Yes. We lived in Manhattan until...” She pauses and drops her gaze. “When I turned four, we moved to Staten Island to live with my grandma.”

“Why?” I press.

Tears fall fresh pooling in the corners of her eyes and spilling down her cheeks. “Dad died.”

An icy tendril of dread touched the base of my neck. “Kate, who is your father?”

She hiccups and her voice cracks. “Victor Cohen.”

The events of the past two weeks fall into place, and I stumble back until my knees buckle and I collapse against the couch arm. “Is this why you were outside my office on New Year’s Day? You were looking for him?”

She hides her tearstained red face behind her hands. “Yes.”

I shake my head in disbelief. The questions she asked about him, every conversation they shared. Her smiles. Her laughter. She wasn’t in love with him in the way I assumed. Not even close. But none of this explains how the hell any of this is possible.

“This can’t be possible.” The gruff edge to my voice makes her jump. “How the hell did you end up here?”

“I don’t know.” She uses the edge of the towel to wipe her face and sniffs trying to contain her emotions. “One minute I’m standing on the observation deck, and the next I’m seeing the sun rise with the twin towers.”

Her words are pure nonsense. “What do you mean?”

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