by Calia Read
“So what is this?”
“This is my power of attorney.”
I find myself leaning in. I’ve never seen a power of attorney. “Huh. Interesting.”
He points to the date, January 22nd, 1914 and immediately begins to dive into the paperwork using legal jargon I don’t understand. Étienne becomes animated with each word, pointing here and circling phrases there.
I open my mouth, about to ask why this is important when I notice my name close to the bottom in block letters. “Wait,” I cut in. “Why am I in here?”
Étienne’s gaze remains steadfast on the paper. “Because,” he starts out slowly, “if anythin’ happens to me, I trust you to act on my behalf.”
I slowly look his way. “In regard to Belgrave?”
“No, my company, too.”
My heart pounds at the very thought of taking over his company. It takes me an hour to choose the hand soaps I want to buy at the Bath and Body Works Annual Sale. I can only imagine what I’d be like as a leader.
“I didn’t expect you to run the company,” Étienne says as if he can read my mind. “And naturally, if you weren’t available or in Charleston, I listed Nathalie and Livingston.”
I nodded. That made sense to me, but something about the date wasn’t sitting right with me. Finally, it dawns on me. I hold my hand up and take a step back. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. January you had this drafted?”
He nods. “That’s correct.”
“You were engaged to Scarlett.”
Again, he nods.
“We were not in a good place then.”
Slowly, Étienne lowers the paper. “I know that, but …” He lifts his shoulders. “I loved you. I did what I thought was right.”
“And what if you married Scarlett and—”
“But I didn’t,” Étienne cuts in.
“In this hypothetical story I’m presenting, you have,” I amend. “If you did marry her, how do you think that would have gone down?”
With only the flashlight on, it’s impossible to clearly see the expression in his eyes, but I can see the outline of a fierce scowl. He’s hating every single part of this conversation. “Not well.” He takes a deep breath. “You forget there’s a reason I could not marry her. You forget she wasn’t you.” He punctuates the last of his words by tapping his power of attorney against my chest, directly by my heart.
I’d be the biggest liar in the world if I said I didn’t feel a rush of excitement over his words. I look down at the ground and shake my head, but it’s only to hide my smile. “Yeah, yeah. You’ve proved your point.”
Étienne grins and lowers the paper. “Are you comfortable bein’ included in my power of attorney?” he teases.
I shrug my shoulders and pretend to mull over his question. “I don’t know. Have a baby with me, become my fiancé, and time travel to the present day to show your undying love for me, then I might consider saying yes.”
“Wonderful.”
“So where’s your current will?” I ask.
“It was in my office … at home.”
“Who’s currently listed in that will?”
There’s a pause, then, “Livingston and Oliver.”
The last part makes me frown. I didn’t expect that. Seems to me the two of them didn’t know each other that well. “Oliver. What? Why?”
“He’s Nathalie’s husband, and I trusted him. That will was originally drafted a month after their engagement was announced. I was confident I was making the correct decision. I would never want to burden Nathalie with the responsibility of my company or runnin’ Belgrave, but …”
“But?”
“Do you remember the afternoon we had in the ballroom?”
“I remember many afternoons in the ballrooms,” I respond cheekily.
I see the corner of Étienne’s mouth curve up. “The day you confronted me about Emmeline’s company … that day?”
Abruptly, I look down at the ground. “Yes, I remember.”
“After you left, I spoke with Nathalie, and she was incredibly firm and confident in how she spoke. I realized she was no longer my little sister. She’d grown up. The day I called off my engagement to Scarlett, I began to draft a new will, one that had people who should’ve been there the entire time. You, Nat, Livingston, and Asa.”
I smile. “That’s a good list.”
We sit on the ground and stare at one another. We have something. Something of substance. Étienne leans forward and kisses me soundly on the lips. “We should go.”
“Agreed.”
Étienne stands and holds his hand to me. I reach out for it when I hear the front door close. Gasping, my head jerks toward the closed door. “What was that?” I whisper to Étienne.
Without replying, Étienne quietly moves to his once office door and slowly opens it. I hold my breath as he peeks his head into the front room. There are no more sounds, but we both heard the noise. It wasn’t a figment of my imagination.
Étienne closes the door and turns to me. “There seems to be nothin’ out there,” he whispers.
“I don’t care. That scared the shit outta me. Let’s go,” I whisper back.
He nods, and I scramble to stand. We have what we need. There’s no need to stick around Étienne’s former office only to risk being arrested for breaking and entering.
Étienne double checks to make sure he has the will when we hear the front door slam shut again, only this time it’s louder and accompanied with a searing pain that starts in my temples and shoots straight through my body.
Oh, shit. Oh, shit. Oh, shit.
It’s happening.
Reaching out, my fingers curl around the hem of Étienne’s T-shirt. If I’m slipping through time, I will take him with me and vice versa.
Étienne loses his balance and rocks back before he rights himself. The room begins to spin. My vision becomes blurry, and expletives slip from Étienne’s lips.
This is the most terrified I’ve ever been because so much is on the line, and both of us know it.
My free hand somehow manages to find a way to wrap around Étienne’s waist. I bury my head into his lower back as the pain intensifies.
You’ve been careful with time, so time will be careful with you, my mind tries to soothe. However, the attempts to alleviate my fears don’t work, and the pain is becoming too great.
“Serene?”
Faintly, I hear the sound of Étienne’s voice. When I open my mouth, only a croak spills out. The edges of my vision are becoming gray and darker by the second. A pressure expands in my head, extending toward my ears until they become plugged. I can’t even hear my own heartbeat.
“I love—”
Those are the last words I hear before Étienne and I fall forward, our bodies becoming two limp rag dolls.
You’ve been careful with time, so time will be careful with you.
God, I hope I’m right …
PART III
“You can’t go back and change the beginning, but you can start where you are and change the ending.”
— C. S. Lewis
Panting and disoriented, Étienne and I cling to one another.
My body aches and is sore in so many places. My skin feels taut, almost tender to the touch, yet I can’t let go of Étienne. I’m relieved that whatever just happened, we made it through together, but a small part of me is afraid the second I let go, he’ll slip away.
As the seconds fade, though, so does my fear. Ever so slowly, we disentangle. Étienne’s hands settle on my shoulders as he carefully looks me over. “Are you all right?”
A shaky breath escapes as I nod. My heart pounds so fiercely, I can hear it in my ears. I feel as though we were in the eye of the storm and barely made it out alive. “Yeah. I’m good. I’m good. What about you?”
He shakes his head. “I have the infamous headache you spoke of.”
I smile weakly at him. “It’ll fade. Give it time.”
Étienne turns his attention to the folder i
n his hands. My arms fall to my sides as I look around. It takes me a moment to realize sunlight is streaming through the windows and across the floor. Étienne’s desk is back in its original place with a Persian carpet beneath and two chairs facing it on the opposite end. Pictures hang on the wall. There are filing cabinets and bookshelves. The small hole that Étienne punched in the wall is covered by the bookshelves, but I’m willing to place a large amount of money that it’s no longer there.
It’s always one thing to feel the pull of time, and a whole other to see the effects of time. It never ceases to amaze me.
Blindly, I reach out and tug on Étienne’s sleeve. “Hey … your office is back,” I say, my voice faint.
Étienne shuts the folder in his hands and turns in a circle. His eyes widen in complete surprise. “My God.”
His attention is snagged from the office as he looks down at his hands and at the folder. When he opens it up, he mutters something in French and holds it out to me. “It’s no longer aged with time.”
Sure enough, the papers are all now a pristine white. The signatures at the bottom are a fresh ink instead of faded with time.
The papers are ripped from my line of vision as Étienne hustles toward his desk. He rifles through the papers, shaking his head the entire time. “A few contracts have been moved, but nearly everything I was workin’ on is still here,” he says, awe coating his words. “This is unbelievable.”
While he continues to pore through the paperwork on his desk, I walk to the window to look outside.
The dumpsters are gone along with the broken signs and boxes, only to be replaced by the carriage house. A chill sweeps through me as a man walks down the alley dressed in attire from this era. He pulls out a pocket watch, looks at the time, and hurries along. And just like that, Étienne and I went from one era to the next.
We can’t stay in this office all day. At some point, we’re going to have to go outside.
Turning around, I look at Étienne. “The noise we heard coming from the front of the building … you don’t think some of your employees are here, do you?”
Étienne lifts his gaze from the desk. His eyes flick between me and the door. “There’s a distinct possibility.”
“Should we look?”
He never gets the chance to answer my question because the door to his office bursts open, slamming into the wall, and in walks none other than Asa Calhoun, followed by Nat. Asa freezes in the doorway, causing Nat to run straight into him. A curse slips from his mouth while Nat’s face becomes pale white.
“Étienne? Serene?” she whispers.
With my mouth parted, I curl my hand around Étienne’s bicep. The four of us stand there, collectively silent and sorting our thoughts, trying to choose the right thing to say in a moment such as this.
Étienne links his finger with mine and walks around his desk toward the middle of the room while Asa inches farther into the office. His eyes keep wandering in my direction and lingering. The look in his eyes is cautious and distrustful. Last time Asa and I spoke, we were on neutral ground, but now it’s almost as though we’re back to square one. What’s changed since I left?
Nat brushes past him as though they’re on the street and he’s taking too long. She doesn’t stop looking between the two of us. “Is this truly real? Are the two of you standin’ before me?”
“It is, and we are,” Étienne confirms in his serious tone.
Her face breaks into a wide smile, and tears begin to fill her eyes.
“This is … this is so … I mean, I’ve missed you two so much.”
“We’ve missed you too,” I say.
Nat nearly lunges into her brother’s arms. Étienne isn’t exactly the most comforting person, but he hugs Nat back, closing his eyes over her shoulder. When they separate, the wide smile remains on her face. She turns to me and wraps her arms around me. For such a small person, she sure has a tight grip. She takes a step back. “We have so much to ta—” Her words fade as her she looks at my clothing.
Gasping, she backs away and stares wide-eyed at my stomach. “Oh, my goodness. You’re with child!”
How does she know?
In unison, Étienne and I look down at my stomach. My burgeoning stomach is now a rounded bump. There’s no denying I’m pregnant. It wasn’t this big in the present day.
What in the fuck?
I know we time traveled, but what month is it here? I was fourteen weeks pregnant in the present day. It was almost May in my time. All I know for certain is it’s no longer May, and I’m no longer fourteen weeks along.
Étienne and I exchange a look. I know the two of us are thinking the same thing. This is the last thing either one of us expected. I was so worried time would take my baby away from me if I time traveled. Never once did I think that the pregnancy would progress through time travel. This is all too much to process. I exhale loudly and link my fingers through Étienne’s. He squeezes once.
“You’re correct,” he says. “Serene is pregnant.”
Nat’s eyes widen as she cups both hands around her mouth. Her reaction is just as I envisioned it would be, and it causes all the anxiety that comes along with time travel to momentarily be placed on pause.
“When is the child expected to arrive?” she asks between another round of hugs.
“My due date is November fourth.”
“Oh, my word! That’s soon.”
And just like that, the anxiety is back. What does Nat mean by soon? Again, what month is it here? I open my mouth to ask that very question when Étienne squeezes my hand. I look at him, and he discreetly shakes his head, signaling it’s a question for later.
“It is. But we are prepared,” Étienne says, playing along. “However, Serene can rest at Belgrave. There’s plenty of space there.”
Instead of smiling, Nat swallows and tensely glances at Asa. “Étienne, we need to talk for a moment. There’s somethin’ you need to know.”
The excitement everyone feels at this moment comes to a standstill from Asa’s words. Étienne leans against the front of his desk and crosses his arms over his chest. Within a matter of minutes, he’s adapted to his surroundings and taken ownership of what’s his. I can’t help but feel a small sense of pride that I was a part of the efforts to get him back where he belongs.
“What is it?” Étienne says authoritatively.
Nat shakes her head as though it’s too hard to say and looks at Asa. He takes over, but even he looks distinctly uncomfortable. “It’s about Livingston.”
Étienne says nothing although he becomes stiff as a board.
Asa hesitates before he speaks, which only causes a shiver to go down my spine.
“Livingston was attacked,” Nat blurts, throwing everyone off guard.
Now, it’s Étienne’s and my turn to looked shocked. My mouth slowly parts as I absorb this new information.
“What?” I say at the same time Étienne demands in a clipped tone, “What happened?”
Asa briefly hesitates before he answers. “In March, he was attacked on the street. Someone came from behind and hit him hard and left him to die. Miles and Rainey found him.”
“Where is he now?”
“At Belgrave. Recuperatin’.”
Étienne swallows, and asks in the calmest voice possible, “Exactly how long has he been recuperatin’?”
Nat looks away before she thinks better of it and meets his gaze head on. “Today’s date is July fifth. He’s been recoverin’ for fifteen weeks.”
I had so much fear that time would be passing us by in this era. That what’s happened before. Nearly two and a half months is relatively short compared to the two years that Étienne and I lost when I shot Edward.
But this feels far worse because we never knew Livingston was attacked, and weeks upon weeks of my pregnancy have been lost.
Étienne and I stare at each other, surprise and fear reflected in our gaze. My attention goes back to my expanding belly. Protectively, I place a hand over it
.
“I want to see him. Let’s go to Belgrave,” Étienne demands.
On the drive to Belgrave, Étienne stares out the window. His fisted hands rest atop his knees, and one leg nervously bounces up and down. I reach out and cover his hand with mine, pulling his gaze from the Low Country.
“It’s going to be fine,” I say soothingly.
“My brother was attacked,” Étienne replies. His tone is calm, but I know he’s seconds away from flipping out.
“I know, I know, and you have every reason to be upset. But you wanting to open a can of whoop ass on every person you encounter is not going to help.”
“I agree with Serene,” Asa hollers from the driver seat.
Étienne shoots him an annoyed look before glancing at me.
Étienne’s fury only abates when he spots Belgrave regally standing with the Low Country as its backdrop. The two of us cease speaking for a moment to stare at the mansion. Our fingers intertwine, and he gently squeezes my hand. As we get closer, I spot the fountain in the circular drive and the neatly trimmed shrubbery. And out of everything we’ve seen on the drive to Belgrave, that’s what causes my heart to race in anticipation because I know we’re seconds away from the trees clearing. We’re seconds away from seeing Belgrave up close. The sun will shine on the spotless windows, and the Corinthian columns will be standing tall. Hopefully, the rosebushes will be in full bloom.
Sunlight splashes into the back of the small rear window of the Model T as we follow the turn of the circular drive. I’m thrilled to see nothing about the home I’ve loved has changed. Belgrave is still the same with the exception of two wicker chairs on the porch. If anything, that makes Belgrave more charming and comfortable.
Asa parks abruptly in front of the steps, causing the four of us to lurch forward. Étienne jumps out of his side of the car and rushes to open my door. The moment I step outside, I’m greeted with Belgrave’s signature scent of honeysuckle and the uncomfortable humidity that makes the air feel sticky and causes your clothing to cling to your skin. It’s worth it, though, because I’m back.
