Ella stood at the threshold of time, the weight of her decision pressing heavily on her chest. Every time she returned to her present, her heart ached, and each goodbye to William grew more painful, more unbearable. The moments they shared in 1965 felt more real than anything in her life in the present. Yet, the very act of crossing back into her own time was becoming more agonizing.
It wasn't just love. It was something deeper, something that defied the very laws of existence. She wasn't supposed to be there, and yet her soul seemed to belong more in the past than the present. Every second with William was a stolen moment, a gift she shouldn't have, but one she couldn't resist.
Her hands gripped the edges of the diary, the key to her impossible romance, and she sighed heavily. The worn pages seemed to pulse with the magic that connected her to William's world. In her quiet apartment, she felt the vastness of time stretching between them. The clock ticked loudly, reminding her that she was running out of time—not just in the day, but in life.
How long could she keep doing this? How many more times could she leave him, knowing it was ripping both of them apart?
She had never imagined falling in love with someone from a different time, and yet William had become her everything. She could still feel the warmth of his hands on her skin, the way his lips moved against hers, soft yet filled with the fire of passion. She could still hear his voice in her ear, whispering promises that seemed as fragile as they were fervent.
"I'll wait for you," he had said during their last goodbye, his eyes dark with longing. "No matter how long it takes, I'll be here."
The memory of those words echoed in her mind as she flipped the diary open again. She knew she could return to him with just a single touch, but something held her back. As much as she yearned to be with him, a nagging thought clawed at her mind—her family, her friends, her life in the present. What would it mean to abandon them?
Would they even know she was gone?
Ella's throat tightened at the thought. If she stayed in the past, would time continue in the present as if she had never existed? Would her family notice her absence? Or would they carry on without her, as if nothing had changed?
She had no answers. The diary, for all its power, offered no guidance on what would happen if she chose to stay. It was an uncharted path, and the uncertainty gnawed at her. Every decision she made felt final, irreversible. There was no turning back once she made her choice, and that terrified her.
Ella sat down heavily on the edge of her bed, running her fingers through her hair in frustration. She had thought that love would bring clarity, that being with William would make everything else fade away. But love, as powerful as it was, had only complicated things.
She closed her eyes and remembered the last time they were together.
The garden had been quiet, bathed in the soft glow of the afternoon sun. William had looked at her with those deep, soulful eyes, the kind that seemed to see straight through her, past all the doubts and fears. His hand had rested lightly on her arm, a simple touch, but it was enough to send a shiver through her body.
"I wish you didn't have to leave," he had said, his voice low, almost pleading.
Ella had tried to smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. "I wish that too."
They had stood there in silence for what felt like an eternity, the weight of their impending separation hanging between them like a cloud. It was always like this—a countdown to goodbye, a ticking clock that neither of them could stop.
"I don't know how much longer I can do this," Ella had finally whispered, her voice breaking. "It hurts more every time."
William's face had tightened with pain, his hands gripping hers more tightly. "Stay, then. Don't go back."
The words had been so simple, so easy to say, but they carried the weight of a thousand consequences. Stay. Don't go back. As if it were that simple.
"I wish I could," she had replied, her throat tight with unshed tears. "But my family… my life…"
His eyes had softened, filled with understanding but also desperation. "I know it's hard. But I love you, Ella. I need you."
Her heart had twisted painfully at his words, and she had kissed him then, a kiss filled with all the emotions she couldn't put into words. It was slow, aching, like they were trying to make up for all the time they didn't have. His lips had been warm and gentle, but there was an underlying intensity to the way he kissed her, as if he was afraid she might slip away.
Ella opened her eyes, the memory of that kiss lingering on her lips. Every moment with William felt like a dream, one she didn't want to wake from. But dreams, by their very nature, weren't real. And this—this was starting to feel like a fantasy that was slipping through her fingers.
She stood up and walked over to the window, staring out at the quiet street below. The world outside looked so normal, so mundane. Cars passed by, people walked their dogs, life went on as usual. But inside, her heart was in turmoil, torn between two worlds that were pulling her in opposite directions.
What would it mean to stay? To live in 1965 with William? Could she really give up everything she knew for a life that wasn't hers?
And yet, the thought of losing him, of never seeing him again, felt like a knife to her chest. Every time she left, she felt like a part of her stayed behind, tethered to him by an invisible thread. But that thread was starting to fray, and she didn't know how much longer she could hold on.
Her phone buzzed on the bedside table, breaking the silence. It was a text from her mother.
Dinner on Sunday? We miss you.
The words felt like a punch to the gut. She hadn't seen her family in weeks, too consumed by her trips to the past. They had no idea what was going on, no idea that she was living a double life, torn between two different times.
Ella stared at the message, her mind spinning. How could she sit down for a family dinner, pretend that everything was normal, when her heart was 60 years in the past?
Her hands shook as she typed out a reply: I'll try to make it.
But as she hit send, she knew the truth. She wasn't sure how much longer she could keep living like this—straddling two worlds, her heart divided in two.
Ella looked down at the diary in her lap, its pages glowing faintly in the dim light of her room. It was calling to her, beckoning her back to William, back to the life she had started to build with him.
She wanted to go back. More than anything, she wanted to be with him. But at what cost?
That evening, Ella stood at the door to her apartment, the diary clutched tightly in her hands. She knew what she had to do, but the decision felt like it was ripping her apart.
As much as she loved William, as much as she wanted to be with him, she couldn't ignore the life she had in the present. Her family, her friends—they were a part of her too. And no matter how much her heart longed for the past, she couldn't abandon them. Not completely.
She took a deep breath, her hand hovering over the diary's cover. She would go back to William, but not tonight. Tonight, she needed to remind herself of who she was, of the life she had in the present.
But as she placed the diary back on her shelf, a single tear slid down her cheek.
Because no matter how much she tried to hold on to the present, she knew that part of her heart would always belong to the past.
And to William.