The next day, Ella found herself walking through the lively streets of 1965, the charm of the past now tinged with a sense of unease. The joy she had felt the day before, exploring the city with William, was overshadowed by a gnawing feeling in the pit of her stomach. She had come back to this time not just for adventure, but because of the undeniable connection she felt with him—a connection that was as exhilarating as it was terrifying.
They met in the park again, as if drawn by an invisible thread that neither could resist. William greeted her with the same warm smile that had made her heart race, but today, something was different. There was a tightness around his eyes, a hesitation in his step. It was as if he, too, was carrying a burden he couldn't shake.
"Ella," William said softly, taking her hand in his as they sat down on the bench. His touch was warm and familiar, but it did little to ease the growing tension in her chest.
"William, what's wrong?" she asked, unable to ignore the shift in his demeanor.
He looked away, his gaze distant as he searched for the right words. "There's something I need to tell you," he began, his voice heavy with an emotion Ella couldn't quite place. "Something I should have told you from the start."
Her heart sank. The way he spoke, the way his shoulders slumped—it all pointed to a truth she wasn't ready to hear. "What is it?" she whispered, fearing the answer.
William turned back to her, his eyes filled with regret. "I'm engaged, Ella."
The words hit her like a physical blow, knocking the breath from her lungs. She pulled her hand from his, her mind reeling. "Engaged?" she repeated, barely able to process the information. "To whom?"
"Her name is Margaret," William explained, his voice tinged with sadness. "We've been engaged for almost a year now. Our families have known each other for ages—it was expected that we'd marry."
Ella felt a sharp pain in her chest, as if her heart was being squeezed. "Why didn't you tell me?" she asked, her voice breaking. "Why did you let me think…?"
William ran a hand through his hair, his expression tortured. "I didn't know how to tell you. And then… when I met you, everything changed. I couldn't stop thinking about you, Ella. You've turned my world upside down."
Tears welled up in Ella's eyes, but she blinked them away. She couldn't afford to break down now, not in front of him. "So, what are we doing, William? What does this mean for us?"
"I don't know," William admitted, his voice thick with emotion. "All I know is that I care about you more than I ever expected to. But I'm torn, Ella. I'm engaged to Margaret, and she's a good woman. She doesn't deserve to be hurt."
Ella's hands trembled as she clenched them in her lap, her mind racing. Everything she had felt for William, every moment they had shared—it was all tainted now by the knowledge that he belonged to someone else. How could she have allowed herself to fall for a man who wasn't free? How could she continue to see him, knowing the pain it would cause?
But even as she struggled with these thoughts, her heart betrayed her. She couldn't deny the connection she felt with William, the way her pulse quickened at the mere thought of him. It was a pull she had never experienced before, something deep and instinctual, as if they were two souls destined to find each other across the boundaries of time.
"I can't do this," she whispered, more to herself than to him. "I can't be the reason you hurt someone else."
William reached for her hand again, and this time, she didn't pull away. His touch was gentle, comforting, and it sent a shiver down her spine. "Ella, I don't want to lose you," he said, his voice raw with desperation. "I know this isn't fair to you—or to Margaret. But I can't ignore what I feel for you. It's too strong."
Ella closed her eyes, trying to block out the chaos in her mind. She wanted to be with him—more than anything. But at what cost? Was she willing to become the other woman, the one who came between a man and his fiancée? Could she live with herself if she did?
When she opened her eyes, William was watching her with a look that made her heart ache. It was a look of longing, of desire, but also of guilt. He was as torn as she was, caught between duty and passion, between the life he had planned and the unexpected love he had found.
"William," she said softly, her voice trembling. "We can't keep doing this. It's not right."
He shook his head, his grip on her hand tightening. "I know it's complicated, Ella. But when I'm with you, it feels like nothing else matters. It's like we're the only two people in the world."
His words sent a wave of longing crashing over her, and for a moment, she was tempted to throw caution to the wind, to forget about everything else and give in to the feelings that threatened to consume her. But she couldn't. Not when she knew what was at stake.
"I need time to think," she whispered, pulling her hand away. "I need to figure out what's right for both of us."
William looked like he wanted to protest, but he held back, understanding the weight of the decision she faced. "I'll give you all the time you need," he said quietly. "But please, don't shut me out. Don't walk away without giving us a chance."
Ella nodded, though she wasn't sure what she was agreeing to. She just knew she needed to get away, to clear her head and make sense of the turmoil in her heart. "I'll see you later, William," she said, her voice hollow.
As she walked away, leaving William behind on the bench, Ella felt like she was being torn in two. Every step she took felt like a betrayal—of him, of herself, and of Margaret, the woman she had never met but whose life she was already disrupting.
When she finally made it back to the little apartment she had rented in 1965, Ella collapsed onto the bed, her mind spinning. She couldn't believe what had just happened. She had traveled through time, found a man who made her heart soar—and now, she was on the verge of losing him, all because of a future she couldn't control.
Tears streamed down her face as she curled up on the bed, clutching the pillow as if it could somehow make everything better. But nothing could erase the pain she felt, the gut-wrenching realization that she had fallen for someone who wasn't hers to love.
But even as she lay there, sobbing quietly into the night, a part of her couldn't let go of the possibility—the hope—that somehow, they could make it work. That maybe, just maybe, love could transcend time, obligation, and everything else that stood in their way.
But for now, all she could do was cry, her heart aching with the weight of a love that shouldn't be.