Page 25 of Time After Time (Golden Sands #1)

I beamed at Michael’s compliments, a burst of pride coursing through me. But as I tried to focus on his words, my eyes kept flickering to the staircase, hoping to catch even a glimpse of Gen.

When Sylvie had opened the door half an hour ago, she had slipped into her usual pose—arms crossed, one eyebrow raised, that unspoken demand for answers hanging between us.

Today, though, there was a strange knot in my chest, a hint of guilt.

I’d only been away from Gen for half a day, yet something had pulled me into coming to the St. James’ house, needing to see her before the day was over. Days always felt brighter with Gen around. Even a short time without her made everything seem off, like the sun had dimmed.

“Oh, I remember the first time we brought Gen to your place,” Michael shook his head, shoulders shaking as he chuckled and took a sip of the warm tea Lilou had prepared and to which I had accepted a cup even though I hated drinking warm drinks during hot weather.

“Oh gosh, I remember it too.” I turned my head in Lilou’s direction as she spoke and took a seat beside her husband.

“Your mum was so nervous and sweet. She had prepared an entire spread of snacks and desserts: way too many just for us three because you kids saw each other and started playing in the living room as if you had always known each other.” I smiled at the thought.

I did remember a bit. Mostly, that Gen and I had communicated in gestures, as my English wasn’t the best at the time and when any Italian word would escape, she would be confused.

“You went full-on pastry chef, serving up pretend treats from your toy kitchen and asking us to try them all.”

My laugh ceased as the soft scent of Gen—sweet florals mixed with something uniquely hers—filled the room as she padded barefoot across the tiles, and I noticed I had glanced at the stairs even before she had made her appearance.

Michael noticed his daughter too, his attention snagged by the faint sound of her barefoot feet against the marble steps.

“I’ve always admired how you knew what you were passionate about, even as a kid.

” He didn’t mean any harm, but I didn’t need to look at Gen to feel the shift in her mood, that flicker of doubt settling in.

“I think I was just lucky,” I said, offering a nervous smile while scratching the back of my head and trying to think of something that would lead this conversation to a positive note.

“But honestly, people who aren’t sure about their passions have so many opportunities to explore and gain experiences.

Sometimes, I wish I had that freedom.” I glanced over at Gen, who stood by the barstool where her dad was sitting.

She wore a long, oversized white t-shirt with a faded logo—probably something she’d had for a while—and I guessed she had shorts on underneath, even though goosebumps dotted her tanned legs despite the heat.

Gen flashed me a grateful grin and mouthed a ‘thank you’.

I returned the smile, just as a mild touch on my left shoulder drew my attention.

Lilou was standing beside me now. Her face lit up with a smile that was almost identical to the ones Sylvie and Geneviève had.

Although one had dimples and the other closed her eyes a bit whenever she smiled.

“Have you had dinner?” she asked, which prompted me to shake my head as my stomach grumbled, making everyone chuckle.

“Sylvie made her famous pizza dough. Gen and you are welcome to share hers. It’s quite large, and you both always liked the same toppings, anyway. ”

Gen handed me an extra glass, which I took along with hers and the pizza that Sylvie had generously filled with the toppings we both loved: a lot of cheese and ham.

Turning my attention to Gen, I gave her a subtle nod and signalled for her to follow me outside.

Michael, Lilou and Sylvie didn’t question where we were going as I motioned for her to open the front door.

They already knew as I had asked for permission.

Despite the wordless cue, Gen followed with a hint of curiosity, her gaze flitting around as if trying to guess what was happening while I guided her around the house, taking her to the backyard.

“What?” A scoff of disbelief as she fell silent, eyes wide, eyebrows up in her forehead and mouth in a pressed line as she glanced around with fascination and astonishment.

As we approached the setup, I couldn’t help but smile with pride. Rounding around her, I carefully placed the glasses and pizza on the soft blanket spread out on the grass.

Next to our little feast, a small wooden table held one clear vase filled with vibrant blue wildflowers I’d picked up during my morning jog. A single candle sat in the centre, its flame dancing with the night breeze, which I feared would dim it until it disappeared.

Four pastel pink lanterns were arranged a few feet from the blanket, their glow mingling with the one of the fairy lights scattered across the grass.

Delicate strands of lights hung from the tree branches above.

Although I wished I had more time to make this setup even more stunning, the lights I had managed to hang made the space look like something you would find in one of those fairy tales.

In front of the blanket, a white sheet hung between two trees.

I thought we could watch a film on the projector we had brought last summer, which led to many films and TV shows being watched in her backyard.

Although usually there wasn’t so much decoration, and I wouldn’t be cursing myself for forgetting to hide the stairs I’d used to knot the sheet around the branches. Yet, Gen didn’t seem to notice or mind.

She took a tentative step closer, her gaze lingering for long periods of time on each detail. She traced the glow of the lanterns with her eyes and ran her fingers over the blanket, as if trying to absorb every bit. “What is all of this?”

“I couldn’t bear the thought of ending the day without seeing you.

” Her grin flickered for a moment, making me question if this was perfect enough.

“I thought we could have a film night,” I suggested after a thoughtful pause, trying to ease the inexplicable emotional knot in my throat.

“Are you okay?” My voice dimmed as I took a step closer, my hands gliding down her arms to share warmth, my fingertips brushing against the small goosebumps that had risen on her skin.

She nodded in response, her eyes absorbing the set-up, and then, without a word, she threw herself into my arms.

I didn’t hesitate to wrap my arms around her, her face nestling into the familiar curve of my neck before gracefully lowering to my chest, finding solace in the space between my pecs.

I felt her inhale the scent of my clothes as I breathed in the fragrance of her hair.

Her arms encircled my waist, and the cool touch of her fingertips slipped beneath my shirt, tracing the contours of my back and sending a subtle shiver through me.

“Which film did you bring?” Her voice, muffled by my body, almost went unnoticed.

“How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days,” I answered. She pushed back, face lit up, and with an excited leap, she darted toward the blanket, causing us both to laugh.

The film had started when I found myself still standing up, hands in my pockets as I glanced at Gen, although I could only see the side of her face illuminated by the candle and the lanterns until I finally moved from my spot, sitting close to her.

Nearly two hours later, as the credits rolled, and the film came to a close, Gen and I naturally fell into our usual routine of chatting about our favourite scenes, but differently from other times, we continued repeating moments and scenes we had already talked about minutes before.

I guess neither of us wanted to be the one to end the night.

We hadn’t spent much time together today.

The weight of me possibly leaving at the end of the summer hung between us.

If we already felt so strange and, in my case, even desperate to see each other after just a few hours apart, how would we feel when it came time to part for much longer—more than a day, more than a week, more than a month, maybe even a year?

We sprawled out on the blanket, my phone propped up between us as we laughed loudly at videos of Karens freaking out in parking lots and coffee shops. The cool night air mixed with our laughter, and for a moment, the world felt simple. It felt easy.

Until it happened.

A notification flashed across my screen, interrupting our video. I moved to swipe it away, but Gen’s hand shot out, stopping mine.

I glanced at the screen, and from the corner of my eye, I saw her eyes widen as she locked onto the notification. “Isn’t that from the apprenticeship?” she asked, her voice edged with surprise. A chill crept down my spine as I double-checked the email address. She was right.

My hands trembled, and I promptly sat up, the fear of nausea and an overwhelming sense of anxiety propelling me into an upright position. Gen mirrored my reaction, rising and contorting herself to peer closely at my phone.

As I clicked on the notification, my phone taunted me, the screen momentarily freezing. Gen’s breaths mirrored my own, heavy and strained. Her hand found a place on the centre of my back, moving in circles as if trying to calm me down while also hoping it would do something for her too.

Reth Inoue.

“You’re in. He chose you.” Gen’s voice quivered with excitement, her shaky finger pointing at the words she wanted me to read. Overwhelmed by disbelief, I read the email repeatedly, making sure my vision wasn’t deceiving me. “You are in, Sebastian. He chose you between… how many were there?”

“Around 10,000.” I looked at her through the tears that blurred my vision.

“I’m in.” Her eyes were wide, shimmering with emotion, and her smile was bright and unmistakable—even as everything around me grew hazy.

“He chose me, Gen. I… he is going to train me to show me everything he knows and fuck… I’m in.

” The realisation sank in, a rush of excitement and disbelief all at once.

Gen’s face broke into a huge grin, and she started nodding, unable to contain her joy.

But then corners of mouths went down, eyebrows arched and eyes became even more blurry. I couldn’t tell who started sobbing first, but it was all I could hear.

“I got chosen.” I sobbed, not even caring about the trail I felt slightly running down my nose. I wasn’t even sure Gen could see it herself if her eyes were as blurry as mine, and by how much she was sniffing, I’m sure she couldn’t see anything.

“Yes, you did.” Gen’s voice was louder than I’ve ever heard it, breaking in the middle of every sound as her hands landed on my crossed legs, tightening.

“I’m in.”

“Yes.”

“I’m going to America.”

“You are.”

“At the end of the summer,” I started, but soon stopped to swallow. “I’m moving to America.”

“You will leave.”

“Come here.” I opened my arms, begging for her to find me, because if I tried to search for her, I wouldn’t be able to—not with how dark my vision had become.

It must have been the same for her, because I felt her hands fumbling upward, searching blindly, until they found my waist. The moment she was sure, she threw herself into me with such desperation that we both toppled, my back hitting the ground as I wrapped my arms around her, holding her as tightly as I could.

She was wetting my shirt. I was wetting the top of her head.

“I’m so proud of you,” she said, her voice barely reaching me, muffled against my chest. “I had a feeling you’d get in. I knew it. I knew you would.”

Our embrace tightened, our trembling bodies clinging to each other.

We were teetering on the edge of an abyss, the vast expanse beneath us waiting to swallow us whole.

Slowly, reluctantly, we began to pull away.

Fingers lingered just a moment longer, like neither of us wanted to be the first to let go.

Our eyes remained locked, and though I tried to move closer to kiss her forehead, I was rooted to the spot, unable to look away from the faint tremble at the corners of her mouth.

That small movement stopped me cold. It was Gen who leaned in and pressed a kiss to my cheek.

Then, without breaking our gaze, she took a careful step backwards, her breath barely stirring the air between us, before turning away.

I stayed where I was for a moment longer, watching her disappear inside before turning away. The backyard suddenly felt emptier, and the ache in my chest stayed with me as I started to tidy up.

The usually short walk felt longer than usual, and instead of heading inside my cottage, I passed it, walking a few more minutes toward my mum and Robert’s house.

When I walked in, I found Mum and Rob cosied up on the couch, completely absorbed in some random film. They turned their attention to me as I entered, surprised that I was there instead of my cottage, and mum immediately sat up, her eyes scanning my face for any hint of what was going on.

“He chose me,” I sniffed. Rob reached for the remote and turned off the TV, the screen fading to black.

The room, bathed in the soft glow of the lamp, suddenly felt smaller as he waited for me to speak.

“I’m going to America.” Though my arms were outstretched in an attempt to convey strength or seem bigger than I felt, the quiver in my chin, my, for sure, puffy eyes, and the ensuing sobs, more intense and audible this time, prompted my mum and Rob to rush to me.

They wrapped me between them, whispering how proud they were and how much I deserved this after all the hard work I’d put in: online college, helping at local bakeries, perfecting the recipes I’d created for my portfolio, and taking courses both in person and online.

But I could hear a slight crack in their voices.

I had never been apart from them for so long, and it wasn’t like I could just drive over.

I’d be on another continent, with a huge time difference, unable to walk into the house, hug them, or see them in person.

I spent the rest of the night curled up on the couch between them, just like when I was a kid and had accidentally seen an image of the girl from The Ring .

I remembered I had shaken in fear and had even wet my bed, feeling so scared and embarrassed, but now I felt a deeper, more suffocating kind of fear.

September . I would be leaving on September 12th.