Title: The Closing Refrain of Time
Summary: An extended ending for The Time Traveler's Wife, a novel written by Audrey Niffenegger
Rating: T
(These are to be deleted before you post it on the internet; they are the title and summary, to be placed in their appropriate places. Call me for instructions)
Thursday, July 24, 2053 (Clare is 82, Henry is 43)
Clare: The floor creaks behind me, moaning beneath heavy footsteps, and I smile. He is here. Henry is finally here. Hesitantly, so as not to disturb the delicate balances of time, I rise from my chair, leaving the present time behind, leaving this prison that has kept me away from Henry. I turn and see him standing there, unchanged, unaffected by time. He smiles as I approach him, opening his arms for me. I enter his embrace and smile; Henry is here, really here, in spirit, in body, in life after death. Henry is here. Holding me. Together.
We are both silent, for there is nothing to say – our eyes do all the talking, our souls consummating our reunion through this hushed affair. Henry's eyes are dark and deep, glowing with love and compassion, passion and romance, reawakening all his vows, all his fulfilled promises of forever. I love you, his eyes say. I will always love you, even after death, even when we are separated by time. I will always love you, past, present, and future. My eyes brim with tears as they desperately attempt to voice the same message. I try my hardest not to cry – we only have a limited time together, I don't want to waste that time with tears.
Henry seems to understand and brushes the tears away with his fingers, gently, delicately, as if he is afraid that my age has left me too frail. I see him more clearly now and lean forward, bringing my face closer to his. Henry smiles and leans down, carefully, brushing his lips against mine. His hand cups the back of my head, caressing my hair through his fingers. His other arm winds around my waist, gently pressing my body against his. I wrap my arms around his neck, tangling my fingers through his hair, though my arthritic joints make it difficult. I don't care. Henry is here, is now.
We continue to kiss, deepening our desires with each passing second, taking advantage of our precious time as it slowly slips away from us. Finally, Henry recedes, breathing heavily as he holds me close. I run my hands down his back, over his shoulders, down his chest – it feels so good to be able to touch him again. Henry does the same, caressing my frail, wasted body, his fingers venturing everywhere, all over me, love radiating from every touch.
I could sense our time coming to a close.
As if he can sense it as well, Henry kisses me one last time, his lips gently lingering upon mine. "I love you," he whispers against my mouth, his breath escaping him and entering through my parted lips, entering my body, my inner time. I am too overwhelmed with emotion to tell him the same, too caught up in the moment of our goodbye. No, I've waited too long for this, it can't be over, it can't! Our time was too short! Henry!
I kiss him feverishly, afraid to let go, afraid to open my eyes for fear of seeing a ghost of Henry. I can still feel him kissing me, feel his urgency as our time slips away. Then Henry begins to slip away, and his kiss becomes lighter and lighter, and soon I find myself kissing air. I open my eyes and find myself alone, clutching an old shawl, the only physical remnant of Henry's time with me.
Time. A separate world from our own, filled with risk and limitations, love and loss, memories and regrets. Time. Different, yet the same. A separate consummation altogether, filled with sin and desire, laced with allusive journeys.
Today, time took me on a journey that will be remembered for eternity. Past. Present. Future. Time will lead me to my awaiting Heaven, and I will take its hand and follow, trusting time implicitly as it blinds me with the blanket of life.
With Henry's shawl still in my hands, I walk to my rocking chair, sit down one last time and cover myself with his shawl. I feel strangely cold now. I close my eyes and begin to dream in my wakefulness, turning back time to all the different Henrys in my memory. As I think of him, I feel tired, and begin to float, through time, through space, through life. Through everything. I am floating, peaceful and serene, with Henry by my side, holding my hand as we float together. For the first time in my life, time has stopped and left me to reminisce, left me to relish my moments in the here and now. For the first time, I am truly with Henry, and nothing would ever take him away from me. Not even time.