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Jack woke, turned his head, and stared at Gwennie’s long, caramel-colored hair fanned over her pillow. His fingers itched to touch the silky strands, but he knew he couldn’t—shouldn’t. She wouldn’t approve. His heart sank. Would he ever be able to touch her again? Love her again as a husband should?
For the past month, she’d made it clear she wanted nothing to do with him since she believed he was a time traveler and refused to travel back in time to change history—save her brother. But, he didn’t know how to travel on demand, so he couldn’t even attempt it if he wanted to. God, he wished she hadn’t found him out. If only Gary hadn’t told her, using the word Preserver.
The few times she’d broached the topic over the past several weeks, he did his best to divert her. Only making her angrier. And the one time he’d messed up, nearly confessing, he’d switched gears taking the approach of trying to reason with her. Saying that even if he could do it, he shouldn’t, because of all that was at risk. He’d tried to explain the butterfly effect—how one little change to history could drastically change the present and the future. She seemed to be willing to take the risk, no matter the costs.
Though she was an emotional mess right now, he still loved her, and he assumed as time passed her grief would lighten and she’d return to normal, to the woman he fell in love with. Not the cold, angry woman lying beside him at present.
His Preserver role was just that, to preserve history, not change it. And if he were to travel back in time to save her brother—change historical facts, would the risk of the butterfly effect apply to only the time that followed the change, or would extend to a time before the change? Who knew what the future brought either way? He certainly didn’t. Were his children, grandchildren, or anyone else who could be affected destined to do great things? Would changing something that happened less than two months ago really impact much—enough to worry about?
Gwennie stirred, and rolled onto her back. Her eyes fluttered open as she turned her head in his direction.
Jack propped himself up onto his elbow and smiled. “Good morning,” he said in the most cheerful voice he could muster under the circumstances, all the while knowing full well she would still be pissed at him.
“Morning.”
Her monotone, obligatory response cut through his heart like a knife.
She threw the covers back, slid out of bed, slipped into her robe, and exited the room without so much as a backward glance.
Jack fell back onto the bed. So much for the happy life of a newlywed. For a moment, he wondered if her coldness to him was a punishment from the Gods for breaking the code—not fully denying he was a time traveler, rather than just deflecting her demand to travel back in time to save her brother. It couldn’t be, could it? It wasn’t like he’d simply come out and told her directly he was a Preserver.
He listened as her footsteps creaked down the hall, then he heard the squeak of the bathroom door. With reluctance, he rolled out of bed and threw on his robe while he waited impatiently for the bathroom. To avoid his wife, he considered using the downstairs facility, but then decided against it. He’d make her look at him whether she wanted to or not.
Slowly, he’d begun the move from empathetic to angry. Two angry people weren’t going to fix anything, but he couldn’t help himself. She was being unfair, especially when she’d informed him about their baby as she did. That was pure spiteful and uncalled for. He’d tried to hold out. Give her time and space, but when would enough be enough?
The door to the bedroom opened, his wife stepped in, and he stepped out. When he finished and returned to the bedroom, he paused outside the cracked-open door. His heart thudded as he watched his beautiful Gwennie study herself in the full-length mirror. She wore only a bra and panties as she glided her hand over the small swell of her tummy. It wasn’t much of a bump yet, but it was there. Strange, with as much weight as she’d lost in her depressed state, the swell was evident. Still, her cheeks and eyes sunk in, and her skin was pasty white with a gray hue. Her mental state wasn’t good for her physical state.
He sighed audibly—defeatedly.
Gwennie turned and flashed her gaze in his direction. In an instant, the softness of it transitioned to a cold, hard scowl. She looked away from him as she grabbed a shirt from the top of her dresser and thrust it over her head. Then, she pulled on a pair of pants and socks, slipped her feet into her shoes, and breezed past him without a word.
His heart splintered all over again. His child grew in a woman who could hardly stand to look at him. He swallowed hard. Would they—she—ever get past this?
In fear she’d never come back to him, he knew what he needed to do...but didn’t know how. After the way his father shut him down the last time they’d discussed time traveling on demand and changing history, he knew he couldn’t broach the topic again with him. If only he could find his Protector, maybe she could help, but he knew nothing of her other than her name. For all he knew, she lived halfway around the world, or in a whole different time frame altogether.
––––––––
Gwen held her breath as she passed by her husband. The hurt in his eyes about killed her, but she had to stay the course if she wanted to convince him to save her brother—change history. She had him close. She could feel it. The best way for her to stay on task was to not be near him—see him—peer into his pain-filled eyes. That way she wouldn’t weaken. No matter how agonizing this was for her and her husband, she needed to stay strong for Gary in order to get him out of whatever horrifying limbo he was stuck in.
She practically tiptoed down the stairs, hoping to sneak out of the house without seeing her in-laws as she was unable to face them without feeling a magnitude of remorse for how she was treating their son. Jack wasn’t a big talker or sharer, so she held hope he hadn’t filled his parents in on how she’d behaved lately. Did they even know their son’s secret? She sighed. Was there really even a secret to share? Jack never fully confessed. All she had to go on was the fact that during their heated argument, he’d said the word Preserver before he clamped up abruptly. That action told her there was something more to say, but when he next spoke it was in an attempt to avert the conversation. Coupling this with what her brother had said to her in her dream, she knew it was true. He was a Preserver.
Her eyes watered. Ruth and William were smart people. Even if her husband hadn’t told them about either, they’d probably figured it out by now.
Gwen slipped into her car and cranked the engine. With a glance over her shoulder, she caught a glimpse of the curtain in their bedroom sway. Her resolve cracked a bit. She needed away from here.
She pulled out of the driveway so quickly the tire caught the corner of the curb. The car bounced up and landed heavily in the street with a tooth jarring consequence. Placing her hand over her churning tummy, she realized she’d better pull it together before she hurt their unborn child.
Flipping on the blinker, she turned right, heading toward the dime store downtown. It was a beautiful day. Over the past couple of weeks, the chilly, damp, spring air had begun to make the switch to a warm summer breeze.
She waved at Myra Gleason as the woman walked down the sidewalk, pushing her son in a baby carriage. Passing by, she glanced over her shoulder. Myra wore a big smile and walked with a bounce in her step.
Tears of guilt slid down her cheeks. Would she ever again be as happy as Myra appeared?
A couple of months ago she had almost everything going for her. She was a newlywed who’d married the man she loved, and she’d gotten pregnant right away.
Then, it all turned to shit.
If losing her older brother hadn’t been hard enough already, to lose her twin was more than she, and her heartbroken parents, could bear. Every time she visited her mother, the pain emitting from her mom’s eyes made her want to climb into a hole and die. And if all that wasn’t bad enough, her husband, the love of her life, had the means to set things right, but wouldn’t—didn’t love her enough to help.
A small part of her understood what her husband meant when he’d tried to justify why he shouldn’t attempt to change the past—the butterfly effect, but the past she wanted him to change was so recent she couldn’t imagine there’d be much of an effect. He didn’t see it her way at all, sticking with the fact the risk could be greater than they could imagine, especially since neither of them could see into the future. Call her selfish, but the pain in her heart, and that of her parents, had her ready and willing to take the risk.
Gwen pulled into a parking spot in front of the dime store and slid out of her car as she hiked her purse over her shoulder. On weekends, downtown parking was a premium, but mid-week, finding a spot wasn’t a problem.
She strolled to the back of the store to look at the fish as she always did. Their shinny colors and free flowing movements brought comfort to her.
A young boy pointed at a goldfish and begged his mother for one.
“Not today, Samuel, but your birthday’s coming up, maybe then.”
The little boy with the big brown eyes seemed to accept that answer. But if he would have turned those sweet eyes toward her and asked for a fish, she probably would have purchased every single one in the tank for him.
The lady and boy walked away, and Gwen stared at the fish as they swam around without a care in the world.
“Ahem. Can I help you?”
She flinched and turned.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” the man apologized with a warm smile as his dark, inset eyes studied her.
He lingered close enough to make her uncomfortable.
She took a step back. “That’s okay.”
“Do you need a fish? I can bag one up for you?”
She lowered her gaze to his chest. The guy wore a black apron over a long-sleeved, white shirt and a black bowtie indicating he was an employee, but he must be new. She frequented the store often and had never seen him before, though there was a familiarity about him.
“Oh no, I was just looking.”
The stocky man inched closer and outstretched his hand. “I’m Arthur, the new assistant manager.”
Apprehension seized her. He emitted an odd vibe. She didn’t want to touch him but didn’t want to be rude either. With reluctance, she shook his large hand. A hand that matched the rest of him; he was not only several inches taller than her but big—thick. Not fat, but muscular. Even his head and neck seemed larger than normal. Yet, his nose was long and thin.
He held her hand longer than what was appropriate as he studied her intently.
“Your Jack’s wife, aren’t you?”
She began to perspire and pulled her hand back. How did he know that? She didn’t know him.
“Yes,” she replied, hoping he’d stop staring at her with that eerie gaze now that he confirmed she was married. Instead, it intensified.
Sweat ran down her sides. She made a move to step around him, to get out of the corner he’d boxed her in, but he didn’t move.
“You probably don’t remember me. I was quite a few years ahead of you in school. I’m Jack’s distant cousin—fourth cousin to be exact. I recently moved back here.” He chuckled. “Small town, if you go back far enough almost everyone is related, right?”
True statement, and though Jack’s family was small, being a native of the area, he did possess some family reach. She should know, her family was much larger than her husband’s.
The man’s gaze held hers. Those almost black eyes of his matched those of Jack’s and his father’s. Strong family trait there.
The intensity of Arthur’s gaze diminished and turned warm. “I’m sorry about your brothers,” he said in a tone as sympathetic as a minister’s during a funeral service.
Even with the tears swelling in her eyes and the slight lump in her throat, she managed to respond, “Thank you.”
He reached out and touched her shoulder. This time, his touch was different, soft, and meaningful. Had she misread him earlier? Her tense muscles loosened.
Arthur closed his eyes and drew in a long breath. Her shoulder tingled as if his fingertips emitted some sort of force—electricity. Sudden visions of her twin brother flashed through her mind. Just as quickly, the emission reversed and energy drained from her body. Her vision blurred and her knees went slack. She reached out to grasp anything to break her fall, but her flailing hands were useless.
The strange man’s bulky arms caught her before she hit the floor. He whisked her off her feet and toward the storeroom where he sat her on a straight-back wooden chair.
He took a knee in front of her and aligned their gazes where her head hung low.
“Are you okay? Is there anything I can do to help you?”
Her heart panged. Why on earth was she suddenly thinking of her twin—brothers. If he could find a way to bring her brothers back that would be helpful, but she doubted he could do that for her and her parents.
“Gwen?”
“Huh. No,” she replied with a slight shake of her head.
“Stay put,” he instructed. “Let me get you a glass of water.” He rose, spun around, and exited the storeroom.
After a minute or so, Gwen decided she’d sat long enough and wanted to go home and just climb back into bed. Instead, she started to slip down in the chair as if her muscles and bones were made of jelly. Fear cracked through her like a whip. What was wrong with her.
Arthur returned in the nick of time to keep her from sliding off the chair by wrapping one of his large hands around the upper part of her arm while holding the glass of water in his other hand.
After he steadied her, he held out the cup to her. “Maybe this will help.”
It took all she had to lift her arm to take the cup from him. She took a sip, then another. Rather than help, it seemed to make her brain as useless as her extremities. Her vision fogged.
Fear raced through her veins. Her heart hammered. What had this man done to her? First, it was as if he sucked the energy out of her with his touch, and now, she could hardly see or think. She needed to get away from him.
Gwen pushed her hands down, pressing her palms to the seat on either side of her but had no strength to lift herself off the chair. Had he drugged her? Poisoned her?
Oh God, the baby.
She tried to rise, only to have another life-sucking touch to her shoulder ensue.
“Woah, now wait just a minute. You’re too weak.”
She tried to twist away from him but felt frozen in place. Her heavy eyelids closed on their own.
“Gwen, can you hear me?” Arthur asked.
She fought to lift her lids and managed a squint. Yes. What...” She swallowed hard. Her mouth felt dry as a desert. “Wh-what have you done to us?”
“Us?”
“The baby,” she rasped out.
Even through the cloudiness, it was easy to see a sly grin rise on Arthur’s face. Why, what on earth would make him happy about this situation?
“Oh, sweetheart.”
Her hackles raised. How dare he call her sweetheart. That was Jack’s nickname for her, not this man’s. In that instant, she realized exactly how awful she’d been to her husband recently. She’d been so distraught over losing her brothers, she hadn’t been thinking clearly. Appreciating all she had, despite her tragic loss. Add the baby and hormones to the mix and she couldn’t think straight at all. But, the second this strange man called her sweetheart, it shocked her perspective when it came to Jack back into somewhat of a state of normal, and she realized her outlandish request for him to travel back in time and change history.
She needed to get home. Talk to her husband. Apologize. Undo all the grief she’d caused him over the past month. What a horrible person she was to ask—demand—he travel back in time to bring her brother back and risk losing his family’s history of which they were so proud. All the while knowing a change could alter numerous other events and people’s lives. What if bringing Gary back meant another person died in his place? And, what if that person was destined to do profound things for the greater good that would then not occur.
She’d been so selfish, blinded by her depression and need to reformulate her family, she hadn’t fully given the potential consequences of history-altering any weight.
Her heart leaped into her throat. This morning, when she walked past him in the bedroom, the yielding look in his eyes let her know she had her husband on the cusp—close to granting her wish.
The stench of shame clung to her. She needed to get home to her husband—to apologize—make sure he didn’t cave to her wishes.
Pressing her hands to the seat of the chair at her sides, she pushed herself upward, but her arms went slack and she fell back against the unforgiving wood.
A deep, evil chuckle sounded in the distance. “This will be too easy. See you soon, sweetheart. You’ll be mine in no time. I can’t wait to see how your precious Jack Cornelis copes with living my life.”
Gwen’s heart seized. The blood froze in her veins. What did that mean?