I had no words.
I fell into the darkness inside my head for a long time, until pain pulled me back to the world. I realized the stick shift was digging into my right hip, and that Per had his arms around me, and that I was sobbing into his shirt.
“Oh, God,” I whispered. “And you came back to . . . to what? If you change history and I don’t die, won’t you have never read my books? Won’t there be a paradox that will make it impossible for you to come back at all? The fact that you’re here means that I have to die, doesn’t it? You just came to be with me, to . . . give me something to put me to sleep or something so my death wouldn’t be so awful, and then you’re going back . . .”
“No,” he said. “Youdon’thave to die. I’m not here officially. It took me a week – my time – to arrange my absence and bribe the people who could get me here. If you wanted to guarantee that your work would live on after you do, I did bring something you could take so that you wouldn’t wake up during your murder.” His arms tightened around me, and his voice went hoarse. “If that was what you wanted.
“But that’s not why I came back. That’s not why I became a historical researcher. That’s not why I specialized in literary research. Nila, I fell in love withyouthrough your books when I was fifteen. You were in them, in every one of them, and I wanted to meet you. And in person, at the meeting tonight, youwerethe woman who wrote those books. I was afraid I’d be disappointed, that you wouldn’t be anything like what came through in your work – but it wasyou.The you I’d known existed. The you I’ve loved for half of my life.”
“If I don’t die, you’ll never read me. You’ll never become a historical researcher.”
“I’m here, Nila. And I’ve already read every book you wrote, and I loved every word, but more than the books, I love the woman whowrote them. And I’d rather have you alive and unknown than dead for the betterment of millions of strangers. That’s selfish. But just knowing that you didn’t die today would get me through a whole lot of years.”
“If I live, you’ll lose your job, won’t you?”
He managed a laugh. “It’s more complicated than that. But yes. At the very least, I’ll lose my job.” I felt his hands against my back clench into fists. “Screw the job.”
I pulled out of his embrace. “How much time do we have before . . . you have to go back?”
“The killer comes through the window at 7.24 a.m. We have two hours and forty-eight minutes.”
“Come on,” I told him. “We have to hurry.”
I nearly dragged him through the door and locked it behind us.
“You love me?” I whispered when we were inside.
“I love you,” he said.
“I’ve never been in love,” I told him. “And I’ve never had anyone who loved me. I’ve wanted, and dreamed, and hoped, and looked, but there was never anyone. There may never be anyone again.” I reached up and touched his face. “But right now, just this once, I want to know what it feels like to be loved. To love. In the little time we have, can we . . . Can we do that?”
He pulled me into his arms and kissed me.
I don’t know about perfect kisses. I know only that I will never forget that one. In Per’s touch, in his taste, in his hunger lay the promise of a lifetime of wonder.
We held each other, undressed each other, moved over and against and into each other, and I knew that our one brief moment wasn’t going to be enough.
It wasn’t the sex. I’d had good sex.
This waseverything.It was knowing that he knew me, and knowing that I needed to know him just as well. It was wanting to hear all his stories, wanting to wake up every morning to roll over in bed and find him there. It was needing to walk down the street holding his hand, and wanting to sit on the couch beside him, not doing anything in particular, because being with him, just breathing the same air, had a magic to it that I had never had before.
And was never going to have again.
There wasn’t ever going to be another moment for us. And there wasn’t ever going to be another him.
We lay in my bed afterwards, and I realized he was looking at me with a worried expression. “I’m . . . sorry?” he said.
I realized I was crying.
“It’s not . . . It wasn’t you. You were – youareamazing. Wonderful. I just . . .” I closed my eyes, and took a deep breath and said, “I’ve been waiting all my life to meet the man I wanted to be with. I knew when I found him, I’d know. And now I know. And I can’t have you.”
“You would want me?”
“Idowant you.”
He looked away, and I saw his jaw working again. Under his breath, he muttered something that sounded a lot like “. . . no guarantees . . .” And then he said, “Your computer . . . is it on? Is your internet connection working?”
“I shut down the computer, but I have broadband. The internet will work as soon as the computer comes on.”
