The Watchmaker's Doctor ✔️

XXIII

2005, Thirteen Years Backwards

"Hello, Ana."

His eyes were pure garden phlox, psychedelic, the way Jimi Hendrix had liked the color. She, in contrast, frothed with hostility towards Greg. So she spun on her heel and walked out of the waiting area, towards the pond. And he followed.

Deep inside, Anaya knew she'd find him at St. Jude's this time. She wasn't surprised when the receptionist promptly replied that he'd call him for her. After all, it was he who had rewound time, when she'd thrust the watch at him. He must have had to travel back with her and live his life again as well. Because she remembered him and her last moments, she'd been sure he would, too.

She wouldn't be here without him. But how could she be grateful to have been given her life back, when her best friend had just lost hers?

"Why is Kait dead, again?"

"It was her time, Ana."

"What she was, was happy and healthy!" Anaya's voice stayed low but seethed with hatred of him. "She wasn't using any drugs. She didn't cause this."

"I told you, you cannot cheat death."

"I should have warned her!"

"By saying what?"

"Just what am I allowed to say, if I know what's going to happen in the future?"

"What do you want to say?"

And again, he had her. What good would it have done if I'd asked her to be careful? She might have stayed indoors a whole year, but still died in her sleep!

"I could have told her that our time was limited, asked her what she wanted to achieve if we died young, and then made sure she did it."

"How is that different from what families, teachers, preachers and friends advise each other every day?"

"But I knew, and I did nothing to stop it!"

"You're not God."

"Are you?" No semblance of curiosity appeared in her voice. She just spat it at him, with spite.

"Close. Certainly more powerful than most to be able to erase consequences and rewind time."

Well, that's different. Anaya turned to consider him properly, as if for the first time. Because she'd walked past their bench, adamantly refusing to be that intimate with him again, he stood sizing up the horizon.

Maybe that was a mistake.

Greg stood erect, and he towered over her at his full height. His stance, with hands tucked into blue jeans, held nothing casual about it. More than powerful, he seemed menacing, even. He turned to her with an arched brow, like a being from Olympus, curious about a mere mortal's next move. Currents of fear sped up and down her spine, futilely searching for a place to cower.

The silence could have been eternal. Greg seemed to have no compulsion to explain.

"Why save me?" Anaya's sigh that followed was laden with defeat. What was the point of it all?

If his eyes could have flashed purple lightning bolts at her, they might have done. "Would you rather I hadn't?" his voice thundered, deeper and louder than she remembered it ever being when she'd known him before.

"Why did you?" Two can play this game. Well, maybe not, but she could try.

"I..." His voice trailed off as if he questioned his motives himself.

Whatever works. Growing bolder, Anaya loathed him again.

"I have been traveling back and forth in time as I please for a very long time," he spoke again atlast. "I can rewind, but can't fast forward. Each time I let it all play out for a little longer. I'm not sure how much further I want to push it. So I decided to bring someone else in. Someone less than forty years old. In case you haven't noticed, we don't have too many of those around here. Sorry, Ana. It was not divine intervention, and you are no chosen one. You just happened to be there at the right time at the right age. And so, I arranged for your accident and had you killed."

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