This Lifetime. | Edward Heffron

XX.

Amelia ran out of the house, down the gravel path her grandmother had walked over and over, decades ago delivering eggs. The same gravel path that led her to Babe also managed to lead Amelia to her first love.

She couldn't breathe, her mind was spinning. Racing towards the fields she spent every night with James in since they had met, towards the lake where he had told her he loved her. The same lake Babe had stolen her grandmother's heart.

Amelia saw him, his back was to her, and he was watching the surface of the water glimmer. His red hair dazzling underneath the setting sun, and for a brief second, Amelia thought it was Babe, and she her grandmother. This must've been how she saw him as well. Amelia blinked twice, storing this memory in a locked box in her heart.

"James Heffron," she called, and he turned slowly at the sound of her voice. His face was filled with surprise, remorse, but most importantly, love. She blinked twice again.

"Amelia, I thought-" she cut him off, throwing her arms around James' shoulders. 

They stood there, arms wrapped around each other, and he held her tightly to his chest. She heard his heartbeat, and thought of Babe and her grandmother at the train station, never realizing it would be their last time to hold each other. With each beat, she thought of their whispered secrets, a basket of eggs, and a boat ride in New York harbour.

"This lifetime," Amelia mumbled, cupping his face with her hands, planting a tender kiss on his lips, "In this lifetime, I'm meant to be with you."