Rain Over Wyndmere

One hour remained before the wedding.

I sat in front of the vanity, scrolling through my phone. The photos of Corinne Whitford and me seemed to go on forever, and my chest still ached at the sight of them.

None of the pictures showed anything overly intimate. All I had were countless shots of her looping her arm through mine, or her profile as she leaned against my shoulder with a bright smile.

The rest were street corners in cities we had visited together, sunrises and sunsets we had watched, crowded subway we had squeezed into. Most of them had been taken casually, on a whim, yet in every single one her eyes gleamed as though they held starlight.

I switched back to the message Corinne had sent half an hour earlier.

"Em, I'm sorry. I can't let Soren leave with regrets.

"It's just a ceremony for him, to give him his last wish before he dies. After it's over, you and I will still get married. You understand, don't you?"

If this had happened before, if Corinne had asked me on our wedding day, all because her childhood friend sent over a cancer diagnosis, to hand over my wedding so that Soren Beckett could fulfill his dying wish of marrying her, I probably would have lost my mind.

Yet now, I was leaving. I was going back to the era I belonged to.

That era did not have the kind of technology or prosperity this one enjoyed. In my time, there were still people who could not put food on the table or keep warm through winter.

I wanted to learn as much as I could before I left and bring it all back with me. There was too much to study and I simply did not have time to grieve.

My finger hovered over the text field. In the end, I just pressed the screen dark.

The makeup artist pushed the door open and found me standing in front of the mirror, tying my tie. She grinned and teased, "Mr. Langford, you're in awfully good spirits today. You don't look like a man about to get married at all, more like someone heading out on a picnic."

I managed half a smile but did not respond.

The man in the mirror wore a crisp white suit. His expression was deliberately calm, and only the faint redness at the corners of his eyes betrayed a trace of exhaustion that was easy to miss.

It had been ten whole years.

From the early days of stumbling through busy streets in a rough linen tunic, terrified by everything around me, to now being able to use a smartphone and dress in modern clothes without a second thought, I had long grown used to this world.

The only thing I could never quite settle was Corinne. She was the deepest mark this world had left on me and the hardest thing to let go of.

"Em, are you ready?"

Corinne's voice came from the other side of the door, carrying a barely noticeable tremor.

I took a deep breath and opened the door.

She was wearing a white wedding gown, so beautiful it hardly seemed real. Only those eyes that once held starlight were now slightly evasive, unable to quite meet mine.

Beside her stood a pale-faced man in an identical white suit. This was her childhood friend, Soren.

"Em, thank you."

Soren's voice was weak. "I know this isn't fair to you, but I..."

"You don't have to say it."

I cut him off, my gaze resting on Corinne. "I know the ceremony inside and out. Just follow the plan. If you need anything from me, say the word.

"If having him around gives you more peace of mind after I'm gone, I don't mind."

Corinne's voice took on a rare edge of panic. "Gone? Em, where are you going?"

I did not answer. It was Soren, standing beside her, who spoke up instead.

The look he gave me was pure mockery, yet his voice came out pitifully meek.

"I knew it. I'm the one who's upset you, Emric. It's all my fault.

"Corinne, you should go comfort him. After all, you're the only person he has to lean on in this world."