Ethan stood frozen on the sidewalk, staring at the woman he had buried in his memories.
Claire looked at him with a mixture of confusion and concern.
She had no idea why her husband was crying.
She had no idea why he was holding her as though he had just pulled her back from the dead.
She had no idea that, in another timeline, he had spent two years wishing for exactly this moment.
“Ethan,” Claire whispered.
He closed his eyes.
He could hear her voice.
He could feel her hands against his arms.
He could smell the familiar perfume she always wore during winter.
Everything about her was real.
For the first time since her death, Ethan felt something other than emptiness.
He felt hope.
But underneath that hope was terror.
Because he remembered exactly what happened one year later.
The factory.
The accident.
The hospital.
The doctor's voice.
Your wife did not survive.
Ethan opened his eyes and looked at Claire again.
“No,” he whispered.
Claire frowned.
“No what?”
“I am not losing you again.”
She gave him a confused smile.
“What are you talking about?”
Ethan suddenly pulled her into his arms.
Claire gasped.
People on the sidewalk...