Page 125 of Flirting with Forever

“You and Jacket were to have a child. That child is gone. Simply by the fact of my being here. Mertons showed me the calculations. It’s true. And I—I with a wife and child who cannot even have the comfort of a name in their final resting place—I have no right to interfere. Cam, I knew what perfect happiness was once. I won’t take it from you.”

“You fool.” She wanted to shove him and hug him at the same time. “That mythical future baby is gone because that baby wasn’t meant to be. Was it because of you? Yes. Was it because of me? Yes. Was it because of Jacket? Yes. Don’t you see? Everything we do in this crazy beaker of ooze sends ripples in every direction—left, right, forward, backward. So what if your being here took away a child? Did you happen to ask if staying would bring me another one?”

“Cam…”

“Fight them. We’ll do it together.”

She heard an odd rushing noise and wheeled around. Mertons was brushing snow off his coat. He had a sort-of telescope in his hand and a look of confusion on his face. “Ah,” he said, spotting them. “There you are at last.”

Mertons wore an odd, unreadable look, and she dreaded what he was going to say. Peter shifted, growing taller and broader. She couldn’t help but notice Mertons avoided her eyes.

“My negotiations have been successful.”

“What negotiations?” Peter asked.

“You didn’t tell him?” Mertons said to Cam.

Peter’s gaze cut to her. “Didn’t tell me what?”

Mertons made a show of placing the scope in his pocket.

She swallowed. “I wanted you to have a painter’s life.”

The look of confusion on Peter’s face grew. He looked to Mertons and back. “What, Cam? What did you do?”

“I promised to show them how I travel.”

“So they can shut it down?”

“Yes.”

“And in return,” Mertons said to Peter, “you will be given a painter’s life. Money, time, recognition. You’ll have it all.”

Cam looked at Peter. She could see the effect this offer had on him.

“No,” Peter said. “I’d rather stay. Even if it’s only for a short time.”

Merton’s face purpled. “Are you insane? Do you know what you’d be giving up?”

“Aye, I think I do.” Peter caught Cam’s hand and squeezed.

“No, Peter,” Mertons said. “You don’t. I haven’t just negotiated any painter’s life. I’ve negotiated your painter’s life. You will be allowed to return to Ursula.”

Peter inhaled. After a moment that seemed like forever to Cam, he said, “I have no wish to return to her knowing what will happen. You might as well tie me to a rock and let an eagle feast on my entrails.”

“You won’t know.”

“What?”

“I said, you won’t know. The Guild has agreed to let you return to your former life insentient of your future or hers. Peter, think of it. You will fall in love with her again. You will paint her again. You’ll have more than a decade to live over.”

Peter’s posture changed. The lines around his eyes grew softer. “And she’ll die, still the same?”

“We can’t change that,” Mertons said sadly. “You know the limitations. But, Peter, listen. I have gotten special permission for a variance. It wasn’t easy, and I had the team triangulating the calculations for the last hour to support it. I have gotten permission to allow you to marry her.”

“Oh.” It came out like a faint puff of wind, and Cam felt her world break in two.

“Your name,” Mertons said happily. “She’ll have your name. And so will your son.”