Page 28 of Time for You

Daphne had never been one to laze about in bed in the mornings.

That just wasn’t her style, not when there were classes to study for or work to be done.

But now, with Henry, she wanted to luxuriate in every second, lounge about with him while she could.

Outside the sky was bright blue and the sun threw a warm rectangle onto her bed, where she lay on her stomach, the crossword puzzle book open in front of her.

She tapped the pen against her lips, thinking.

“Another word for thwart . Five letters,” she said.

Henry had been resting on his side next to her, trailing his fingertips along her spine, sending pleasant shivers across her skin. He leaned over and moved her hair to the side, placing a tender kiss on the nape of her neck. “Avert?”

Daphne wrote his suggestion down, and whined only a little when he tugged the book out of her hand and placed it on the nightstand.

Henry tucked her under his arm, with her head pillowed on his chest. She listened to the cadence of his heart, beating a steady, comforting rhythm.

She heard heartbeats all day at work, but it was different through a stethoscope than it was with her ear pressed against his bare skin.

“It’s getting warmer out,” Henry observed, looking at the window.

Daphne didn’t want to reply, because she knew what he meant underneath that otherwise bland observation—it was getting warmer because the summer solstice was rapidly bearing down on them.

“What if you stayed?” she asked, the words slipping out without thinking. Henry’s fingers stopped trailing idly across her bare shoulder. “I mean, I know you can’t, but what would it be like, do you think?”

“You’re a dangerous woman, Daphne,” he rumbled.

She smiled against his skin. “Your accent gets thicker in bed.”

“No, it gets thicker when I’m relaxed,” he said, gathering her in his arms and kissing the top of her head. Henry let out a long breath and started speaking. “I think, if I were to stay, I’d like to get a job.”

“I’d hope so. Otherwise you’d just be freeloading off me,” Daphne teased.

He chuckled. “I was thinking about cooking, actually. Perhaps in a restaurant.”

“A chef?”

“Or a chef’s assistant—what’s the word? Sous chef? I don’t think I’m good enough to be the head of a kitchen. Not yet, anyway.”

“Don’t sell yourself short,” she pushed.

“I’m not, I’m just acknowledging I have a long way to go,” Henry countered. “And even if I couldn’t find work as a chef, I think I’d like to keep cooking. It’s—don’t laugh, but it’s a way for me to show people I care for them, and I never had that before.”

Daphne propped her chin on his chest, chewing her lower lip. “I’m sure your mother and sisters know you care for them.”

“Aye, but not like this. I provide for them, and I listen to them, but showing it—expressing it, like this—that’s not something I ever considered before.”

“You’re a caretaker. It’s part of you.”

“It is,” he agreed. “And it’s a part of you.”

She hid her face. “Don’t. We’re talking about you.”

“And I want to talk about you.” He curled his finger under her chin and lifted it to meet his gaze. “If I stayed, what would you do differently?”

“I’d leave emergency medicine,” Daphne admitted, and her chest loosened from a tightness she hadn’t even noticed.

“Then you should when I leave,” he said seriously.

“I don’t—I know I should, but knowing that and doing it are two different things, Henry.”

“Why?”

“Because.” Henry waited for her to complete the thought, and when she didn’t, he lifted an eyebrow.

Daphne sighed. “Because it means shattering my plan, okay? I know it seems small to you, because it’s not like I’m talking about leaving medicine, but this has been such a big part of my life plan, and I don’t know if I can lose that if I lose you, too. ”

“But you’d be happier if you switched.”

“Maybe. Probably, I don’t know. I don’t even know if it’s possible; I know it happens, but it’s hard and a lot of things have to go right for it to work.”

“Never thought you’d shy away from a challenge.”

“It’s not that, it’s—fuck, I don’t know, Henry, but the past few months have been so disorienting, you know? Meeting you and falling for you and now—” The lump in her throat made it impossible to force the next few words out.

“And now you’re losing me,” Henry finished. “That’s no reason to sentence yourself to unhappiness, my love.”

Daphne smiled weakly and stretched her neck to kiss him. “What will you do back there?” she asked.

“Be miserable,” he deadpanned. He cupped her cheek in his hand and looked at her thoughtfully. “Go back to my old life. Provide for my mother, find my sisters suitable husbands—or let them find them themselves,” he corrected before she could interject. “Run the business, I guess.”

“You won’t get married?” Daphne asked, hesitant. She wasn’t sure how she wanted him to respond.

Henry looked deep into her eyes, his gaze an impossibly bright blue. “Not if I can’t have you.”

Daphne looked away first. “That’s no reason to sentence yourself to unhappiness,” she echoed.

“Would you? Marry?”

“I always thought I would, but not in a specific, ‘this is what I want’ way. More that it just seemed like the next step, and I sort of vaguely assumed it would happen. I just never thought it would be a nineteenth-century gentleman.”

“If I stayed, would we?”

“I’d marry you, yes,” Daphne said, surprised by both her own certainty and the ease with which she admitted it. “I’d marry you, Henry MacDonald, if you’d have me.”

“Of course I would, woman,” he said, cuffing his hand around the back of her neck to kiss her.

Daphne smiled even though her heart was splintering into a thousand tiny shreds. “Would we have kids?”

Henry considered her thoughtfully. “In my time, that’s not much of a choice, barring unforeseen issues. But if you want them, I’d be happy to have them with you.”

She made herself laugh even as tears pricked the corners of her eyes. “What do we do, Henry? You have to go home, and the portal won’t open for another seven years.”

“Don’t wait for me,” Henry replied. “It’s too long, and life is far too uncertain. Live your life, and find happiness, Daph. Find it, no matter what.”

“Only if you promise the same thing,” she whispered hoarsely.

Henry didn’t answer, just kissed her like it was the last thing he would ever do.