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“No. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Sure?”

The nerve of this man.

“Vadim, go play with someone else. I’m ti—”

I suddenly notice that he’s hiding something behind his back. Just as I do, I hear the sound of footsteps approaching.

“Finn!” I cry out. “Shit, he’s going to catch us! Get in here, quick!”

In a panic, I close the door behind us and turn the key, then watch as Vadim paces around my room, some sort of wooden chest under his arm.

“What’s that?”

“A time machine.”

“What?”

He isn’t kidding.

Tonight, I take a twelve-year leap back in time. Vadim opens the old box right before my eyes, and I soon discover all its treasures. Portraits and photos of us, scribbled drawings, my handwritten letters, the amateur scripts we wrote together, printouts of our instant-messaging conversations.

Vadim kept everything. He never got rid of a single trace of our past. It moves me far more than I could ever have imagined.

“I know I act like a complete jerk sometimes,” he murmurs. “It doesn’t mean I don’t love you, though.”

“That’s the first time you’ve said it. Well, the first time in twelve years…” I smile at him, my eyes filled with tears.

“What? That I love you?”

“Yes.”

“It’s so obvious, Alma,” he says softly.

He lowers his head, embarrassed, and I slip my fingers into his hair.

“I feel the same way, Vadim,” I whisper. “As if we’d never been apart…”

“You love me, Lancaster?”

“Yes.”

“Then say it.”

The intensity of his words sends a whole swarm of butterflies fluttering through my chest.

“I love you, Vadim Arcadi-King. I’ve never stopped loving you.”

His shoulders relax, as if a crushing weight has finally been lifted from them. His face lights up as he raises his head, letting those gray eyes pierce straight through me. He is as handsome as a god, but that isn’t what strikes me in this moment.

I love this man with all my being. I love his heart, his soul, his strength, his vulnerabilities, his flaws, his talents, his convictions.

I love who he truly is, deep down.

“Vadim?”

“Alma.”