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I stayed in my family's house, and made the move to Texas. As the weeks passed, I even began to settle in to my new community. Truth is, I'd almost forgotten about all of it—after all, it was insane. Perhaps brought on by too much alcohol on my part, or too many years of weed on Claire's part….or something like that, right? So I'd almost forgotten all of it, until the first day of my senior year at my new Texan school….

When I met you.


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I called Claire the very next day. I was….spooked. Three days later, Claire was in Texas. She'd said it was only for a few months….but we both knew that was a lie—that she would stay as long as I needed her. And I should have been surprised by that….my cousin, dropping her career to move to Texas with me….but somehow, it didn't even surprise me anymore, the way she operated. And I was happy. I mean, I was still on shaky ground with my parents….but I had Claire, my closest confidante, my closest friend, back by my side.

It was two days before we really got the chance to talk in private. When I was finally able to ask her:

"What do I do now?"

She smiled at me. "Easy. Date him. Sleep with him. Make him fall in love with you. Then marry him. It's your duty to Rittenhouse….your first Rittenhouse mission….you have to marry Wyatt Logan.

I remember just staring at her, stunned. Eventually I found my voice again.

"Oh sure—I'll just get this random guy to fall in love with me."

She actually giggled a little. "Trust me, it won't be hard."

"How can you know that?"

"From the future, remember?" She raised an eyebrow at me. "The guy had a totally messed up childhood. Poor little Wyatt Logan believes that no one has ever loved him. You pay him just the tiniest bit of attention—let him think that he's important to you….and he'll be a love-struck puppy dog. He'll probably fall for you even before you sleep together."

"Nice-using insecurities from the guy's childhood against him. Is that what you think of me cous'? That that would be my style in romance?"

She gave a half smile and quirked her eyebrow at me knowingly. "I kinda do, actually."

I glared at her.

"Doesn't really matter, anyway." she shrugged, "He's already fallen for you in another timeline….and history's not that easy to change. Trust me, it won't be an issue."

"So….Rittenhouse wants me to marry this guy. The same guy they killed me for marrying in another timeline." I shook my head. "Still some kind of crazy flip-flop, if you ask me-"

"Well," she snorted, "Rittenhouse didn't ask you to critique their plans, did they?" Like I said before—Wyatt Logan's proved himself a problem to the cause, in the future. And in that future, he also has direct access to information that Rittenhouse needs to make that problem disappear. So you'll make him love you, marry him….and then Rittenhouse will be able to hang him with the relationship….and the beautiful thing is….he'll be happy about it."

"So this is the mission Rittenhouse asks of me," I pondered aloud. I looked at my cousin pointedly. Is this how it happened for you? How did you get your mission? I mean….you were only thirteen."

"Hm," she nodded, "In 2018, Rittenhouse knew they had an issue-and they knew they could fix it, by bringing you back. My parents….they knew how much I had adored you-I still talked about you all the time, had your picture on my desk….even after all those years. So, they decided to tell me the whole thing-all about Rittenhouse, about why you died….and that Rittenhouse wanted to bring you back, but needed help. They needed someone from 2018 in the past, to steer things along in the right direction, to guide you, to help you. I think most of Rittenhouse disapproved of sending someone as young as me. But there was this one man, he told me to call him Nicholas, and after the adults spoke alone in a room, he came out to talk to me….just the two of us. He asked if I was loyal to Rittenhouse, and what I would be willing to do to demonstrate that loyalty. Whatever I said to him, it must have been the right thing to say, because he decided on me for the mission. He said the youngest soldiers are so often the most stalwart and staunch. I remember that. I didn't even know exactly what it meant then….just that it made me proud to hear him say it. So it was decided. I was given the information I needed….and was sent to 1980. The Rittenhouse agent who travelled with me brought me to a Rittenhouse family in the past, and they looked after me, until I was old enough to be on my own."

"Rittenhouse did all that? Just to bring me back?"

I remember that Claire nodded at me and smiled.

"And now all their hard work is about to pay off."

I had the weekend to think and ponder, before I saw you again. But my decision was already made. If I ever had any doubt of that, having Claire living in the spare bedroom of my family's new place was enough to put a stop to that. That Sunday night, I walked into my bedroom after brushing my teeth—to find a copy of the future-in-an-alternate-timeline newspaper clipping sitting on my pillow.

So, I set off to school that next morning, ready to start my first Rittenhouse mission. Which was insane to even think, let alone do….but hadn't I always wanted to be respected and treated more like an adult? And clearly Rittenhouse thought I was capable of this, or they wouldn't be asking. So, I put mission 'seduce the hot guy', as I called it in my head—because I'd already been thanking my lucky stars that at least you were good-looking—into action.

And Claire was right—of course she was, my Claire was always right—getting your attention was….easy. And the great thing was, you seemed like a nice guy too—even if your past was a little….seedy. Back then, it really didn't seem like we had a lot in common, but I liked it when we'd cut class and you'd take me for a drive-show me around the area. And we both liked to drink. And, to be honest, I really did enjoy the fact that you were indeed handsome. The more time we spent together, the more I enjoyed your company. You saw yourself as an outsider, even though you'd lived your whole life within twenty miles of that high school. And I was an outsider, with my San Diego sensibilities….and so sometimes, even I had to admit that we just 'fit' together.

This next part will be hard for you to hear….it's hard for me to write. But I promised myself I would be one hundred percent honest with you right now—because I owe you that much, after what I've done. When we were together, in high school….I may have liked spending time with you….but I didn't have any other feelings for you. I mean….we were together because it was what Rittenhouse wanted. It was also what my parents wanted, as I'd learned early in my senior year that they were fully aware of the situation….just as they were apparently also fully aware of the situation that time that I apparently did love you, and Rittenhouse killed me for it.

So, you have to understand, dating a guy because it's what your parents and a large faceless multinational syndicate want you to do? Well….that's not a great set-up for romantic tension and feelings-development! It was really hard for me….knowing that none of this was my choice….and that I'd have to marry you, and stay with you for years. Even though Claire told me after the mission was complete, Rittenhouse would reward me, and I could have my life back….but still….when I had no choice in the matter, no real control….how could I ever love you?

But I had to do this—or Rittenhouse would kill me. And you were handsome, and kind….so I tried to force the feelings. The way any teenager would—by turning to the physical aspects of our relationship. It didn't work, of course. Well….it seemed to work on you. Because you fell for me hard….just like Claire said you would; so hard it was maybe even a little suffocating. But for me? There were still no feelings. And knowing that I couldn't make those feelings happen….and that I was still going to have to spend most of my life with you….just made me more miserable. Which meant I drank more. Well, we drank more….because I was always able to convince you to go out drinking with me. Or, more to the point….I was always able to convince you to ask me to come drinking with you. It wasn't lost on me that those skills I had cultivated as a child, those skills in manipulating and twisting others to my will….seemed to be back in full force, when it came to you. But like I said before….I am still a good person….and I hated what was going on between us. I wanted a choice….I wanted to be happy….and I didn't want to feel guilty every time I manipulated you.

I still remember the night, about five months after we'd started hanging out together….that I lost my mind a little. We'd cut class that day, and driven to a nearby town, just to mess around and waste time. My parents were having some important dinner that night, and I knew I had to make an appearance before they left. You kissed me, as you dropped me off, like you always did….and all I could think was that I felt nothing when you kissed me. And it made me mad. I wanted to feel something when I was kissed. I kept it inside though, whispering you a sweet goodnight and racing down the walkway to my front porch as you drove away. My parents were already on their way out, and I nodded to them in greeting as they left. I stood on that porch for some time, letting the anger build….focusing on the unfairness of it all. Eventually, I pushed open the door and called out for my sister. There was no response, as I had hoped. She must have gone out. But Claire was there. I confronted her in her bedroom—I told her I was done. That I was taking my life back….that I wasn't going to let Rittenhouse dictate the things I was doing now or in the future.

The anger in her voice surprised me.

"Grow up Jessica! You know this isn't such a bad gig. When I was thirteen I travelled back in time for Rittenhouse—left absolutely everything I knew for Rittenhouse. All they're asking you to do is fuck a hot guy….and get a marriage license."

That only made me madder.

"No. You don't understand—but I am telling you-I'm serious about this! Your precious Rittenhouse is going to have to find another way, because I'm not going to pretend to be in love with him….not anymore."

Without allowing her a retort, I spun around, and went to my room.

Less than a minute later I heard my cousin shove open the door. I turned to look at her—and I can still remember her face. Angrier than I had ever seen her—her face was red, her brows knit and her eyes tearing up. She threw the newspaper clipping at me.

"Is this what you want? Rittenhouse has given you a job to do….and if you don't do it-"

"I know," I spat back; "They'll kill me."

"No, you obviously don't know….or you wouldn't be so casual about this. When I was seven years old I lost the most important person in the world to me, and I'm not going to let that happen again."

"Shouldn't this be my choice? It's not like I have a choice in anything else, do I!"

"Choice?" Somehow, her face had gotten redder. "Here is your choice!"

She threw another piece of paper at me. A piece of paper containing five different photographs. I'd seen enough Law and Order episodes to realize what they were-crime scene photos.

At first, I couldn't even tell what I was looking at, but slowly shadows separated from form, and the images became clear. I threw the paper down and ran for the bathroom, retching out what we had eaten, trying to erase that one image-of my face….and the blood-from my mind.

Somehow, we made it through the rest of our senior year in that manner. As far as everyone else knew—we were madly in love. Perhaps only Claire and my parents knew better. My parents put on a pretty good them show themselves, when it came to you….lecturing me whenever other family was around about how you were beneath me….pretending not to like you. Well….I guess they didn't have to pretend that….they really didn't like you. But still, in reality, I think they were proud-proud that Rittenhouse had asked me to do this-but I couldn't risk talking about it. Claire had been clear with all of us that this was a classified mission….a secret to all but the top levels of Rittenhouse.

Me….on a top-secret mission. And right under your nose, too. Pretty crazy, right? I bet you didn't see that coming.

As graduation approached, so did the inevitable conversations of what next. Personally, I was just impressed that the two of us had managed to graduate at all….given the number of classes we actually attended. And then there was the whole prom debacle. But truthfully, I didn't really think about my future that much. It seemed like something I no longer knew how to do—given that Rittenhouse was in control. I supposed they would let me know what I was to do with my life….besides just marrying you.

And you were talking seriously of enlisting. Which didn't surprise me, given the only person you ever spoke highly of besides me was your Grandfather….and I know how important his stories of life as a soldier were to you. Besides, it was the spring of 2002….and our world had changed.

So no, it didn't surprise me, when you decided to enter the army….but that didn't mean that I liked it. But….I had seen the news clipping. And this was what Rittenhouse had signed me up for….to become the wife of a soldier.

I told Claire that you had enlisted, and she was so happy; told me that this meant everything was going to plan, that I was doing well in my job. Then, as a reward, she told me all about how you were going to propose to me the next weekend….even told me where and how you would do it. And how messed up is that? I didn't even get a chance to be surprised at my marriage proposal.

And even the day of our wedding….Rittenhouse colored everything. My mother helping me with my dress that morning, reminding me that in no circumstance, would the Logans be having children. I remember her stroking my hair in a way that nearly repulsed me, telling me not to worry, that of course there would be children….once Wyatt Logan was out of the picture….and once I was with my true Rittenhouse match.

Half-an-hour later, I recounted the conversation when I was alone with Claire, while she was doing my hair. I laughed, explaining to her that my mother was worrying far too much. I had never really pictured myself as a mother….so 'refraining' from having children with Wyatt Logan was certainly not going to be a chore.

But Claire clucked her tongue, coming around beside me, and looking me in the eye.

"That's not going to do at all, Jess hon."

"What are you talking about? Rittenhouse doesn't want me popping out Logan babies."

"Of course not," she pulled a piece of my hair back, and pinned it over my ear. "But you have to make that be his decision….don't you see?"

"Make him responsible for us not having kids? Why?"

"You know the answer to that already. It's all about control. You have to control his decisions….yet make him believe they're his own. That way, later on, when you have to make a decision for him that is essential to Rittenhouse, he'll think that he is the one who made it, and he won't be suspicious."

"Like Rittenhouse controls my decisions?"

"That's completely different, and you know it. Yes, Rittenhouse has asked you to do some things that have closed off….options for you, in the present. But it is still your choice to take this mission. And, by taking this mission….Rittenhouse will reward you, grandly, by letting you have a future—and then the choices really will all be yours."

"Fine….but about that decision that Rittenhouse wants me to make for Wyatt…..what is it? I mean….I've come this far in the mission….I think I have a right to know."

"It's nothing."

"Sure as hell better not be nothing...I mean, I'm about to marry the guy!"

"It's just that it won't seem important now….not when you don't know the whole picture."

"So tell me anyway."

She sighed, and clipped another segment of hair in place.

"Fine. There will be a time in the future when your husband is staying somewhere secret. You'll need to make him decide to take you there."

"That's it?"

"That's it."

"So….we're married….but not living together?"

"Jess—this is most definitely not the time to talk about that."

And I decided she was probably right. But I still counted that day as a success. Not just because I married you, but because I finally had some more information. And I was one step closer to understanding what Rittenhouse wanted from me in my mission. And though I chose not to examine it closely, I knew….even then….that since Rittenhouse needed me because you had somehow affronted them, or was a danger to them….then I couldn't imagine how this was going to turn out anything but badly for you.

And I'm a little ashamed to say that that seemed somehow okay to me.

Gradually, I relaxed into married life. And I remembered the words that my cousin had said to me, back when I was in the twelfth grade—this mission wasn't so bad. Not by a long shot. You were a good husband then, a kind man, a loving man. And the sex was pretty fantastic too. But most of all, you only saw the best in me—put me up on a pedestal, and told me all the reasons I deserved to be there. It was a new feeling for me, you understand….when my parents had been so….exacting in their parenting style-so strict in their expectations for their children-and so reluctant to hand out praise.

So at first….I really liked it, my mission of being married to you.

And we didn't have a lot of money, starting out in our own place, but when I complained about that to Claire, suddenly Rittenhouse was making payments into a secret account to me. Claire showed me statements—even took me to the bank herself so I could verify it. So I knew eventually, I'd be okay on the money front….so until then, I could wait.

Gradually, your job began to take a larger role in our lives. After your training stints, deployments began. They were short at first. You may not believe it now, but I did worry about you—don't ever think I didn't. And I didn't like the worry, the sleepless nights.

When your deployments began, sometimes Claire would come to stay with me. I'm sure it irritated her to no end….but more often than not when she came to stay? I wanted to talk about you. She would talk about you too, but only to remind me how you never measured up to much in her book. I think in many ways, she was still that seven year old girl, learning about Rittenhouse, and that her beloved cousin had been taken from her because of a boy.

I remember one night, when you'd been away for two weeks….she asked me if I was nervous about you cheating on me….all those nights we were apart. And that was the first time I'd ever thought of that.

As the months wore on, I started to feel other aspects of my Rittenhouse mission weighing on me. I took a job as a bartender at a local pub. Slinging drinks-just for something to do-and it was something I was rather familiar with. Double shifts of pouring double shots….to go with my double life. It seemed fitting. I had always imagined myself having a career of some sort—but given we had moved twice in six months with your job, that seemed unlikely.

I complained to Claire, about wanting and not being able to have a career. And the next month, Rittenhouse sweetened my pay—the monthly deposit into my secret bank account increased by twenty percent.

Then came your first long deployment-months overseas, leaving me alone. So Rittenhouse gave me a nearly two-month long cruise to help me pass the time. I had so much fun-they gave me an alias, and no one there knew me, so I really could almost pretend I was someone else. And I was free, and could choose, for the first time in so long. But it's important to me that you know that I was still a good wife to you on that cruise. I was still your wife, even though I was calling myself Miss Whilton….for that first cruise.

It was later that things began to change. You became quieter….and much more sullen, each time you returned from overseas. And I didn't understand why. And because you wouldn't talk about it….I worried about what it all meant. And I maybe became a little paranoid.

Then came the recruitment into Delta Force. You were so excited….and I was not. I so didn't want you to join. I mean….even though we had our differences….I still worried about your military deployments already….and Delta Force just seemed like it would be….worse.

This is probably coming as a bit of a surprise to you….since I was never anything but supportive, when it came to you and Delta Force. You have Claire to thank for that though-I told her one night I was going to make you turn down the assignment….even make you think it was your idea, just like she had taught me. But she said I had to allow it-and that I had to give you my full support. That it was important to Rittenhouse, and important to her.

So I did-I was your biggest cheerleader, remember? Rah, rah Delta Force! So you joined. And you excelled, as I knew you would. And that meant more deployments….to scarier locations….when you were even allowed to tell me where you were going. Because that was the thing about Delta Force-it meant more secrets. And I hated secrets….I hated the way they made me feel. So I drank more. And when you came back from those top-secret missions? You hardly talked at all. And you drank more. And between the drinking and the secrets, and the radio-silence….my paranoia went through the roof. And that made me angry. Not at you, you have to understand….but at me. I was mad at me because I knew that the paranoia was proof that somewhere along the line….I had developed some level of….affection for you. Because you were kind….except when you weren't. And you were a good husband….except when you weren't. And it surprised me to think that I might have some kind of positive feeling for you….except when I didn't. Anyway….that thought made me mad….because I knew any kind of feelings would make me weak-less able to manipulate you, less able to control you. And so I worked to control that affection, to shove it out of my consciousness when possible, and always guarded against the possibility that it could grow.

I remember one night, when you were away, Claire came over to keep me company. I was already in a dark place that night, thinking about where you might be, and who you might be with….and the alcohol we were drinking wasn't helping. I railed against you-telling her every nasty thought that had entered my brain about you since our wedding day. And she readily agreed with me. But then-hello alcohol-I started feeling badly about it, and relented. So I told her all the wonderful things about you-all the things I missed when you were away. And she disagreed with me. She would remind me about the jealousy, the secrecy….and would remind me just what it meant when men were secretive.

And I lost it on my cousin.

"But you're from the future," I yelled at her, "You would know if my husband was cheating on me!"

She was more than ready for a confrontation.

"Why do you even want to know that? Why would you care? Don't tell me you're developing feelings for this jackass? In the other timeline—he was the reason they had to kill you!"

"Well, maybe it's like you said, it's not that easy to change history."

"So you do have feelings for him?"

"No, I mean….not like love or anything…. I don't know, so what if I did have some...fondness….is that so shocking?

"What are you saying….do I have to show you the crime scene photos again? You know what will happen, if you blow this."

"I'm not dropping the mission! I'm still carrying through, all of it. But he's still my husband-and I deserve to know if he's faithful to me!"

Claire slammed her glass down on the table.

"Don't be a child, Jessica. Of course he cheats on you!"

I was stunned.

"He….he does?"

Her words repeated in my mind-there was something significant in them-and it swam through my alcohol-hazed brain to the forefront of my awareness.

"Wait, he cheats on me, or he is cheating on me now?"

"We are living in a reality where not only is time travel possible, but we're both living lives directly influenced by it. I think we're past arguing about the semantics of verb tenses, Jessica," she was quieter now, but her tone was fierce.

"I just want to know if my husband is faithful to me!"

Claire sighed. "He's a cheater Jessica….that's all you need to know."

The words hit like a ton of bricks. I was so stunned….it didn't seem possible….

And that was the first time I wanted to leave you.

But Claire brought out those damn clippings again…and I knew I couldn't leave you.

So when you came back, I put on a brave face and carried on. Even though I despised you. I despised you, while you drank more….and stopped talking. So I stopped talking. We stopped talking, except when we were yelling.

I was so resentful of you….and envious. That you got to do what you wanted to do, say what you wanted to say….you were free. There were so many things I wanted to say to you….so many things I wanted to yell—about how I deserved to have a good husband, a kind husband….a loyal husband….and that I deserved that. But I couldn't tell you any of those things.

And so we carried on.

Until that day came in late 2005. A day like any other, I was getting off shift from the bar and you were….somewhere. Who really knew? Claire came over for a drink. And that's when she told me.

"I have to go, Jess."

"Go, what do you mean, go?"

"I mean, leave this timeline."

"What? Why?"

"It's my birthday next week Jess-"

"I know that, Claire."

She looked at me, almost sadly.

No, I mean….it's the day I'm going to be born. And, there can't be….two of you, in one timeline. It's the way it works."

I kept quiet, her words sinking in. I knew her well enough to know that she didn't joke about time travel.

"But-you can't go! What will I do without you here? How will I know if I'm doing the right things?

She smiled. "You'll know."

"What if I screw this up?" I nearly whispered.

"Hey," she said, "Don't talk like that. Just keep it simple, right?"

"Sure, simple."

"Listen—no matter what, the number one thing is that you have to stay in this marriage. No matter how bad it gets. You can't have doubts."

Which made me laugh.

"What about him? There's two of us in this marriage, you know. Why would he stay married to me if things get as bad as you say?"

"If he starts to express doubts, then you get him to go to counselling, you get him to blame himself for the failings of the marriage….no matter what's going on."

"How am I going to do that…?"

"Come on Jess, you know how to do that. You know your husband. You know his buttons, you know his anxieties. Use them. I've seen you do it-you're a natural at it-you've got him wrapped around your little finger."

"Sure," I scoffed, "Except for the cheating."

I remember she tilted her head to the side and looked at me curiously.

"No matter what, there won't be any divorce. Not even a mention of it, okay? Well-until 2018."

"Wait, what? I'm supposed to divorce him in 2018? I mean, I know Rittenhouse is waiting to act until that year….so all I do is divorce him then?"

She sighed. "Not really….you're not going to divorce him, just threaten to-"

"What?"

"Look, this is all too much to explain now."

"I would agree, except that you've just told me you're leaving….so there's no other time for this."

Claire shook her head. "No, Rittenhouse will still get information to you, at the right time."

"How?"

"You'll see."

And then she was gone. I really didn't know what to do, at first. I had to trust myself, and I did-but I felt so alone….a lone operative working for Rittenhouse, in charge of preventing something really bad, and yet not having all the details on just what that was.

Then there was the weirdness that my aunt and uncle had a baby girl they named Claire. And I really didn't know what to do with that….how to process that. At least they lived on the coast, so I could get away with just sending a congratulatory card.

My first test without Claire came about a week after you had returned from your most recent deployment. I don't think you even noticed that Claire wasn't around anymore. I mean, I guess that's not surprising-it's not like she hung out with us when you were around very often….but I thought you might notice that I wasn't speaking of spending time with her….but maybe that was expecting too much.

Anyway, that first test. You nearly bowled me over that day at breakfast, when you suggested maybe the time was right to consider having a baby. I mean-where the hell did that even come from? But, once you had said it, I had to act. So I went back to my own brand of carefully-tuned trade craft. And by the end of the week, you were the one telling me that you were sorry, that you knew I wanted a little boy, but that the timing just wasn't right yet. You apologized to me!

By the way-that whole thing-convincing you that not having kids was your idea? That was easier than it ever should have been. It's a weakness of yours, you know-you can let people you care about manipulate you….because you lead with your heart. And, all these years with you? I've learned that leading with your feelings like that is a great thing, and a dangerous thing. Who knows, when I think back to when we first met….all those years ago in Texas….I think that maybe that was the start of your whole downfall….you led with your heart, and I led you along the proverbial garden path.

Yes, as someone who knows you well-and I do, even now, when you're apparently from that strange timeline where I died and we've been apart for years-I can say that yes, leading with your feelings-feelings of guilt, feelings of love, is your greatest weakness. But, what I'm only just beginning to understand, is that it is also one of your most powerful weapons-even though you always seem completely unaware of it. Because, the thing is, when you lead with your heart like that? You can hurt people. You certainly hurt me….and maybe even some other people who seem important to you. Most importantly though, if you stop and think for even a minute….you know that you also hurt yourself. Because we might have found another way, you and me….until you hurt me….that night, in the disgusting bunker bathroom.

But you know what? Telling you these secrets I've gleaned knowing some form of you over the past seventeen years? That's not what this is about. I could tell you so much….but then maybe there are others who could tell you even more….and from a more generous perspective than mine. So that's not my purpose here. And let's be honest, with the way things are probably going right now….with what I've finally set in motion….life lessons are probably not your priority. You probably just want to know why.