I came awake almost the exact same way I’d fallen asleep.

A warm hand stroked up, then down my back. The remnants of sleep faded slowly, letting things come to me in bits and pieces. A hard body was pressed to mine.

A familiar scent surrounded, as well as the warmth coming from that body.

Glenn.

I didn’t have to think, didn’t have to open my eyes.

I knew where I was and who I was with.

The smile was already there before I opened my eyes, a yawn cracking my mouth so wide, it hurt. “Morning, sleepyhead,” he whispered against my shoulder.

“Good morning.”

As Glenn urged me onto my back, I felt a stupid smile curving my lips and it only spread wider when he buried his face against my neck and rubbed his stubble-rough chin against me.

I giggled and hunched my shoulder up. “That tickles,” I said. But I didn’t really want him to stop.

He caught the skin and bit me gently before pushing up onto his elbows and throwing his thigh over my knees, effectively pinning me into place. He laid a hand on my belly. I started to tense, but the hand slid up and he started to stroke the underside of my breast with his thumb.

His eyes slid down to my mouth and under the intensity of that stare, I felt my smile start to fade. For a few minutes, I’d totally forgot what was going on, that time has passed between us—years on his side, a couple of months on mine. And there was so much left unsaid between us.

His gaze slid up to mine when I laid a hand on his cheek.

“Hey.”

Glenn covered my hand with his and pressed lightly before levering his weight away and sitting on the edge of the bed. “Hey. Did you sleep well?”

“Yeah…um…I slept really well. Better than I have in…weeks, really.” I didn’t elaborate, glad I’d caught the words before they could escape me.

“I understand that. I haven’t had a decent night’s sleep since…” He stopped and got up, grabbing the pants lying over the headboard. “Anyway. Are you hungry?”

He slid out the bedroom without waiting for me to answer and I got up, feeling awkward there, alone in his bedroom with my skin still warm from him…and my soul cold from the words he hadn’t said.

I hurried into the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth, using the toothpaste on the counter and my finger. The intimacy between wasn’t gone, but it was strained, and I wasn’t going to help myself to his toothbrush the way I might have done once.

After cleaning up the best I could, I tugged my dress on and went to find him.

He was standing at the stove, bare-chested, frying up eggs and bacon.

Fortunately, the morning sickness seemed to be settling down and while I had no desire to help myself to any bacon, it wasn’t about to send me to the toilet. “Mind if I have some toast?”

He waved a hand to the counter and I went in search of the bread and a toaster.

“I’ve been thinking,” he said, flipping the bacon over. It sizzled in the skillet and he waited until it stopped before continuing. “I haven’t decided yet, but I’m going to talk to the man who handled Cane’s enlistment. See what they have to say.”

“What?”

“You heard me, Maya.” He sounded tired. “I’m…tired. All this bullshit here in Hollywood, playing nice to the press to convince them I’ve turned over a new leaf. Seems like it’s a waste of time if I have to do things that I’d never really do anyway. Maybe I’m not drinking myself into a stupor all night and maybe I’m sorry I was an ass and blew my career into the ground, but going to kid’s picnics and acting like some philanthropist doesn’t make me feel like a better person.”

“So going to a kid’s picnic makes you feel bad?” I tried to tease a smile out of him, even as my mind worked furiously to figure out some way to change his mind.

“Yeah. It makes me feel lonely, Maya.”

Hollowed out by those words, I swallowed and looked away.

“Anyway, I don’t even have any real purpose anymore. Nothing that calls to me or feels…right. Cane had a purpose and it gave him focus, gave him peace. I want that.”

“That focus gave him an early death,” I said, the words slipping out of me without thinking about how cold they sounded.

“But he died doing something that mattered.”

I wanted to argue with him, but what was I supposed to tell him? That millions more were going to die? I’d already done that. That kids would die? I’d done that too.

A cold chill racked me. “Glenn, please don’t do this.”

“I can’t stop thinking about it,” he said. “It’s like…when I’m gone, is there anything I’ve done that made a difference? Cane did that. He made a difference.”

Spinning around, I glared at him. “You do make a difference. You make art and it makes people happy!”

“Movies.” He snorted. “They’ll be forgotten in five or ten years.”

“You’re wrong!”

His face softened as he caught the expression on my face. “Maya…it’s going to be okay.”

“You don’t know that.” Shaking, I wrapped my arms around my middle but it didn’t help the chill inside.

“It's just a skirmish.” He shook his head and focused his attention back on the stove. The sizzling continued from the stove, and a few seconds passed before he flipped the bacon once more. “It’s nothing major—not like the great war.”

I didn’t understand what he meant at first, then realized, abruptly, he meant World War II. That was still recent to people now, while it was fading from memory in my time.

“It’s nothing like that.”

I couldn’t argue with that. But war was…war. My throat was locked and tight, and I wanted to huddle up in a corner and cry. But I focused and kept my voice level. “This isn’t a skirmish,” I said, voice husky. “It won’t end in a few weeks, in a few months or even in a couple of years. A lot of people are going to die, Glenn. I don’t want you to be one of them.”

“You don't know that.” He shook his head as he flipped the bacon out of the skillet. Moving the skillet to the back, he turned his attention to the other pan and jabbed at the eggs, like they were trying to attack him. “You’re a woman. The idea of war must scare you.”

Insult flooded me but I kept it at bay. I wasn’t in my time. I was struggling to acclimate to these things but it wasn’t as easy, especially when he said shit like that. Besides, I was afraid. It didn’t have anything to do with being a woman, either.

“You know, being a woman isn’t why I’m afraid,” I said, keeping my voice calm. Being afraid and being insulted didn’t make for calming thoughts, but I managed.

A faint smile tugged up the corners of his mouth. That just made it worse, and the calm I’d summoned up fractured.

“It has to do with the fact that this is war and people die. Damn it, quit smiling like that. You act like I’m telling you a joke!”

“I know you’re not joking.” He scooped the rest of the eggs out of the skillet and turned the stove off then came over to me, reaching up to cup my cheeks.

“I think you’re just…worrying more than you need to.”

“Arrrghhh…” I slammed my fist into his stomach before I could even process what I was about to do. He grunted out in shock. I doubted I’d really hurt him. As his hands fell away, I spun away and moved over to the French doors. They opened out onto a patio and I could just barely catch sight of the ocean from here. Pressing my forehead to the window, I sucked in one ragged breath after another. I felt like there wasn’t air in the room. I was suffocating, on fear, on misery.

Placing a hand over the baby growing inside my belly, I said, “Glenn. Please…please don’t go.”

“Why?” he bit off, a sharp edge in his voice.

Apparently, I wasn’t the only one fighting with some anger.

Spinning to face him, I stared into his eyes, searching for…something. I’d hoped for a sign of the love I’d once seen there. But I couldn’t it. He didn’t look as furious and disgusted as he did the last time we’d argued, but things weren’t what they once were.

“Why?” he said once more, moving closer.

“I guess the fact that I’m asking you isn’t enough.”

He reached up and cupped my cheek. His touch was soft and so was his voice as he said, “Three years ago? Even two years ago…a year ago…hell, yeah. I would have done just about anything for you to show back up in my life, and I would have given you anything you wanted. But now, when I finally put myself back together, you show up out of nowhere and I’m just expected to…what…act like nothing has changed? No time has passed? Why should I listen, Maya? Why should I care?”

Throat aching, I looked away.

“No.” He shoved his hands into my hair, craning my head back and forcing my gaze back to his. “You look at me. I want an answer.”

It didn’t hurt. Even in his anger, he took care.

But the sheer dominance of the gesture was enough to have my heart pounding in my throat.

“Why?”

“Because I’m pregnant!”

Oh. Shit.

Glenn let go of me as if I were contagious, backing away so fast, he bumped into a chair and nearly tripped. “You’re…what…who’s is it?” he demanded.

Now I knew real dread.

Swallowing, I rubbed my belly and looked away. How could I explain this? “It’s yours, Glenn.”

“Wait…no. Unless you’re just guessing…or were you planning on getting pregnant?”

“No.” Miserable, I raised my eyes to his. “I am pregnant. I know it for a fact.”

“Then it can’t be mine.” He looked a little sick, shaken. And hurt inside. As he went to turn away, I rushed over but he backed out of my reach. “You don’t want to touch me, Maya.”

“The baby is yours, Glenn. You…I…” Screaming quietly, I shoved my hands into my hair and pulled before looking back at him. “You’re not going to want to hear this. You’re not going to want to believe it. But I can’t lie about this. Glenn…I’m not from…I’m not from your time. I was born than fifty years from now. In my time, you and Florence, Peter…you’re all gone.”

He cocked a brow. “Interesting story.”

“It’s not a story!” I shouted. “In a couple of years, Martin Luther King, Jr will be assassinated. Interracial will become legal. You want to know why I don’t want you enlisting? Because we lose the war, Glenn! We lose, and hundreds of thousands of men die! And those are just our own. Others—innocent civilians are killed—by American soldiers!”

He went to snort and I slapped him. The fury and fear and desperation exploded out and I couldn’t stop it—my hand was just cutting through the air and it just happened. His head flew to the side from the impact, then he was looking at me with burning eyes, the imprint of my hand a vivid red.

“It’s not a story,” I said again, softer, but the rage was still there. “I was at a movie set with my Uncle Daniel—fifty years from now. I picked up a locket—it was the one I always wore. Remember it?”

Something flickered in his eyes but Glenn clenched his jaw, and I knew he wasn’t listening to me. “I found Florence’s journal. I was reading it, and I fell. In my time, she actually did succeed when she tried to commit suicide—she died. “

“You’re crazy,” Glenn said, shaking his head. He went to go around me.

“Didn’t you ever wonder why in the hell I was always pushing you at her? Or how I knew she would be in trouble?”

He’d reached the door of the kitchen and at those words, he froze.

It was the only chance I’d get, I realized.

“You brought that journal to the house—it was on the nightstand the night you proposed. Something about the journal and the necklace sent me back and forth. I fell asleep, and I woke back up in my time.”

His wide shoulders shuddered. “Stop it, Maya,” he said.

“I was there for a few weeks—not that long. Then I found her journal—I went back to the house and found it in the place where Mrs. B was staying. You’d left your estate to Peter.”

He spun around. “He told you that?”

“No!” I shouted. “I read the damn will! Fifty years from now.”

“I…” He held up his hands. “No. I’m just…no. I’m not listening to this insanity, Maya. You need to get out of here, okay?”

He strode away and left me standing there, alone.

Dazed, I looked around the kitchen, at the breakfast he’d prepared, at the toast I’d popped into the oven.

A door slammed somewhere off in the distance. I flinched at the sound of it and wrapped my arms around my middle. Then, not knowing what else to do, I went to the phone and called Florence.

“Astor and I will be there as soon as we can,” she said softly.

“I…look for me on the road. I can’t stay in here,” I told her.

She started to argue.

I just hung up.

I’d tried. It had been terrible timing. But I’d done my best. I’d tried.

And he hadn’t believed me.

It was time to figure out how to live my life without him.

* * *