I left the café that night thinking I could shake her off—that I could just move on, forget the strange conversations, the eerie way she seemed to know me, to know everything about me. But Evelyn didn't let me.
The next day, I found another note, this time slipped through the crack under my apartment door. There were only three words written on it:
It's time, Ryan.
The city streets felt different that evening, as if something had shifted just beyond the edges of my perception. I walked with my hands shoved deep into my pockets, replaying every moment with Evelyn in my mind, trying to make sense of her cryptic words, her unsettling familiarity.
She said she'd seen "paths I hadn't taken." What the hell did that even mean?
I wasn't looking for answers, but somehow, I ended up back at the park—the same bench where we had spoken just days before. And there she was, sitting as if she had been waiting for me all along, her eyes trained on the horizon, the fading sunlight casting long shadows across the grass.
I hesitated for a moment, then walked over. Before I could speak, she turned to me with a look I hadn't seen before. It wasn't the calm, measured expression she'd worn before. There was something frantic about her now, as if the weight of whatever she was holding back had finally grown too much to bear.
"You came," she said quietly, more to herself than to me. She stood up suddenly, her movements sharp. "We don't have much time."
"What are you talking about?" I asked, my frustration boiling over. "No more cryptic messages, no more games. Tell me what's going on."
Evelyn stepped closer, her voice low, almost urgent. "Ryan, I didn't come to you by accident. This—us—it was always going to happen. The moment I found you, everything was set into motion."
"Found me?" I shook my head. "What are you talking about? You make it sound like you've been looking for me."
"I have," she said, her eyes locking onto mine. "Not just for you—" She stopped herself, as if struggling to find the right words. "I'm not who you think I am. And this world, your life, none of it is what you think."
There it was again, the dizzying feeling that everything I knew was slipping through my fingers. "What do you mean?"
Evelyn took a step back, rubbing her temples as if the pressure of it all was building inside her head. "I'm from your future, Ryan. A future where everything we know—everything you know—is collapsing. And I need you to help me stop it."
I stared at her, the weight of her words pressing down on me. "The future? This is insane."
"It's not. I've been living in a version of your future, and it's falling apart. You disappear. I disappear. The entire timeline starts unraveling. I'm here to stop it before it happens."
I tried to process her words, but my mind rebelled against the idea. The future? Time unraveling? "You expect me to believe that?"
"I don't care if you believe me," she said, her voice rising. "You don't have a choice. I've already lost you once. I won't lose you again."
The intensity in her eyes caught me off guard. "What do you mean, 'lose me'?"
She hesitated, and for the first time since I met her, she looked...vulnerable. "In my time...in the future...you're my husband, Ryan."
My heart stopped. The words hung in the air between us, too heavy to fully comprehend. I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came.
"You disappear," she said, her voice breaking. "One day, you're just gone. The world starts unraveling after that, like threads being pulled from a tapestry. I tried to save you, tried to find you, but nothing worked. So, I came back here, to this moment in time—to you—because you're still here."
I felt like I'd been punched in the gut. "But...if I disappear in the future, why not stop it there? Why come back here?"
She shook her head, her hands trembling. "It doesn't work that way. I've tried. The future is too broken. The only way to stop the collapse is to prevent it from ever happening."
"You want to change the past?" I asked, my voice hoarse.
Evelyn nodded. "Yes. I brought you here to make a choice that will stop everything from falling apart. But we have to go now. Time is running out."
Before I could respond, a deafening sound tore through the air, like metal grinding against metal. I looked around, panic rising, but Evelyn grabbed my arm, her grip tight.
"It's starting," she said, her voice barely audible over the noise. "The collapse is bleeding into this timeline."
I yanked my arm back. "I don't understand—"
"You don't have to," she said, pulling something from her pocket—a small, gleaming device, unlike anything I'd ever seen. It pulsed with a soft blue light, casting strange shadows on her face. "But you need to trust me, Ryan. This is the only way."
The ground beneath us began to tremble, the air growing thick, like the world itself was bending, folding in on itself.
"What is that?" I asked, pointing to the device.
Evelyn held it up, her eyes determined. "It's how we'll travel. How I'll take you to the future."
My heart raced, my body screaming at me to run, but something in her eyes held me there, anchored me to the spot. This was real. Whatever was happening, whatever madness she was pulling me into, it was real.
"Why me?" I asked, barely above a whisper.
"Because only you can stop this," she said, her voice soft but resolute. "The future depends on it."
I didn't have time to respond. The ground beneath us seemed to dissolve, and the sky above fractured like a mirror, cracks splintering through reality. Evelyn pressed the device into my hand, her fingers gripping mine.
"Now, Ryan," she said, her voice urgent, almost pleading. "Before it's too late."
The world twisted, the sky warping, and everything began to blur. My legs gave out beneath me as the device in my hand flared to life, light engulfing us.
And then, with a rush of wind and light, we were gone.