Dear Mr. PostMan

Oh I'm never leaving you again

Pain hit me like a freight train when I finally regained consciousness. It felt as if my head might split open.

"Oh, dear, she's waking up. Quick, get some water," a voice said, followed by a muffled grunt from someone else. The voices were older, like an elderly married couple. But where was John? Doesn't he live here anymore?

I slowly cracked my eyes open, trying not to make the pain worse. An elderly woman's face loomed close to mine, her stare unnervingly intense. I flinched back.

"Oh, thank goodness you're awake! We've been so worried," she said, her breath carrying a strong, sour scent.

I cleared my throat, my voice raspy. "Where am I? Where's John?"

"Well, dear, you're in London. And... who's John?" she asked, clearly puzzled.

"Here's the water, love," a man's voice chimed in, and I assumed it was her husband.

"Thank you," I said softly as she handed me the water. As I sipped, I noticed something by my foot. My green suitcase. I couldn't believe it—Jass had been right. It did come with me. The apartment building, while familiar, looked so different now. The cars outside were old models, and the people in the streets dressed like they were from the 1960s. This was it. I had made it. I was really in the 60s.

I handed the water back to the woman. "Thank you. Do you know where John is? John Lennon... he lives here, doesn't he?" 

The elderly woman gave me a soft, knowing smile. "Oh, that young man, he moved in with his mates just a couple blocks down the street. Why do you ask, dear?"

"He lives just a few blocks away," I thought to myself, a spark of hope flickering in my chest. This could be it. I gripped my green suitcase a little tighter, the weight of the moment settling over me.

"Thank you so much for all your help," I said, my voice shaky but full of gratitude. "I should be going now."

As I stepped out onto the street, I felt the cool London air wrap around me, sending a shiver down my spine. My heart was racing. I needed to find him, needed to let him know how much I need him in my life, how fate could be damn, I will fight fate if I have to.

I turned down the first block, eyes scanning every car, every corner. I'd done my research. I knew what kind of car they used, what it looked like. My feet felt like they were moving on autopilot as I walked, my thoughts racing just as fast as my heartbeat. Where is he? Please be here, John.

I turned down another block, my eyes growing desperate as I searched. It felt like time was stretching out before me, every second an eternity. But then, across the street, I saw him. Standing there, almost unreal, as though he had stepped out of a dream.

"Paul McCartney!" I called out, unable to keep the excitement out of my voice.

He glanced up, raising an eyebrow as he noticed me. "Hi, do I know you?" He asked, his voice casual, though there was a flicker of curiosity in his eyes as he took a slow drag from his cigarette.

I smiled, feeling a rush of relief wash over me. "No, but I know you. Where's John? I'm Anna," I said, extending my hand with a mix of excitement and nervousness.

Recognition flickered across his face, and then it bloomed into a wide grin. "You're her. John's Anna. He's inside. But, hey, don't tell him I've been smoking. He's been on all of us about quitting, something about it being bad for us," Paul joked, his voice light.

I laughed, the sound coming from deep in my chest. "Well, he's right, you know?" I teased, my smile widening at Paul's exaggerated look of surprise.

Paul led me inside, and as I crossed the threshold, a sense of rightness settled in me. I was finally here. This was the moment I'd been waiting for.

I could hear John's voice from the other room, calling out in that familiar, warm tone that I had missed so much.

"Oi, Paulie, where've you been? Anna?"

My heart stopped. The world seemed to slow, like time itself was bending and stretching, everything else fading into the background. I turned, and there he was—standing in the doorway, eyes wide with shock. John Lennon. The man I loved more than anything. My breath caught in my throat, and without thinking, I was moving. I ran straight into his arms.

Before I could even process what was happening, John was spinning me around, his laugh filling the air, the sound I had dreamed of for so long.

"I missed you so much," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "What are you doing here? I thought you wanted to stay in the future?"

I laughed through the tears that were suddenly welling in my eyes, breathless. "You leaving made me realize I can't live without you. Screw what history says. There's a reason we were brought together, and I'm trusting in that."

John's expression softened as he gently set me down, his eyes never leaving mine. It was as if nothing else in the world mattered but the two of us. "Well, damn," he said, his voice low and full of admiration. Then, with a grin, he spun me around again, pulling me back into his arms and kissing me—kissing me like nothing could ever tear us apart.

The kiss deepened, and for a brief moment, everything felt perfect. But then, something shifted inside me. A sudden wave of nausea hit me, and I pulled away, my stomach lurching.

John's concern was immediate. "Anna? What's wrong?" His voice was filled with worry, his hands reaching for me.

Before I could answer, I turned and rushed to the sink, barely making it before the sickness overtook me. I closed my eyes, trying to will the feeling away.

"Anna? Are you alright? Doll?" John's voice was thick with worry, his footsteps echoing as he came closer.

I wiped my mouth, turning back toward him with a weak smile, even though the nausea still swirled inside me. "I'm fine," I said, my voice a little shaky. "Guess morning sickness doesn't mix well with spinning." I tried to make light of it, but I could see the confusion and realization spreading across his face.

"But... that means you're...?" He stuttered, his eyes wide, disbelief mingling with the growing realization.

I took a deep breath, grounding myself, then reached for his hand. My voice was steady, though my heart was racing. "John, I'm pregnant. You're going to be a father."

John's face lit up with the most radiant smile I had ever seen. His eyes sparkled with disbelief and overwhelming joy. He kissed me again—gentle and tender this time—and then spun me around once more, his laughter filling the room. "I'm gonna be a father! Can you believe that, Paul?"

Paul, who had been watching us with a grin, chuckled and shook his head. "Yeah, and she's gonna puke on you again, Johnny, if you're not careful."

I couldn't help but laugh, the joy of the moment washing away the lingering dizziness. Everything had changed, in the best possible way. John was going to be a father. We were going to have a family.

John pulled me close again, his arms wrapping around me as though he never wanted to let go. "I love you," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "And if fate has any ideas of splitting us up, then it can go fuck itself."

I leaned into him, feeling the weight of everything fall away. This was it. This was my life now. And it was everything I had ever dreamed of, because it was with him.

John Lennon. The love of my life.

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Edited Chapter.

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