Chapter 7: The Fate That Finally Found Me

By the twentieth day of Cheryl's return mission, the System had stopped sounding confident.

"Target affection level: zero percent."

Every night, the same announcement came.

Cheryl tried everything.

She apologized.

She begged.

She stopped mentioning Gavin.

She brought Jasper to the park where I used to take him every Sunday.

She even told the System she was willing to give up the lifetime of good fortune she had earned for Gavin if it could undo the damage.

The System's answer was simple.

"Completed rewards cannot be revoked."

That seemed fitting.

Some choices couldn't be revoked either.

Jasper changed more than Cheryl did.

He stopped calling Gavin his real daddy.

He also stopped demanding that I take him home.

Instead, he began sitting outside the boxing gym after school.

The first time I saw him there, I frowned.

"Where's your mother?"

"At work."

Apparently, the System's temporary arrangement required Cheryl to live like an ordinary person while she remained here.

Without records tying her to me, she had taken a short-term job at a nearby café.

"You shouldn't be here alone."

Jasper looked down at his shoes.

"I know."

"Then why are you here?"

"I wanted to see you."

I sighed.

I called Cheryl and made her come get him.

But Jasper returned two days later.

Then again.

Eventually, I stopped sending him away immediately.

I gave him a chair near the reception desk and told him not to disturb anyone.

He watched me train clients in silence.

One afternoon, he asked, "Can you teach me?"

"Teach you what?"

"Boxing."

"You're five."

"I can punch."

He demonstrated by attacking the air with both fists.

Despite myself, I laughed.

Jasper froze.

Then he smiled.

It was the first genuine smile I had seen on his face since he returned.

Something inside my chest shifted.

Not enough to erase the past.

But enough to remind me that Jasper hadn't asked to be born into Cheryl's mission.

I put a pair of oversized gloves on his hands.

"Keep your elbows in."

His eyes lit up.

For fifteen minutes, I showed him the most basic stance.

When Cheryl arrived, she stood silently at the entrance watching us.

Her eyes were wet.

The System suddenly chimed.

"Target affection level increased."

Cheryl sucked in a breath.

I looked toward her.

"Current affection level toward host: zero percent."

Her hope disappeared instantly.

"Affection toward dependent entity: twelve percent."

Jasper didn't understand.

Cheryl did.

So did I.

Whatever part of me had once loved my son wasn't completely dead.

Cheryl smiled through her tears.

"That's good."

"Don't misunderstand."

Her smile faded.

"Jasper and you are separate people."

She nodded slowly.

"I know."

For once, she didn't argue.

That evening, Beatrix came over for dinner.

She had been working longer shifts recently, so I hadn't seen much of her.

She examined the cherries on the tree and announced that my horticultural skills had officially surpassed my cooking.

"That's insulting," I said.

"It's a compliment to the tree."

I laughed.

We ate outside beneath the branches.

For the first time in years, I found myself imagining a future longer than a few weeks.

Then the pain hit.

It began as pressure in the center of my chest.

I ignored it.

I had experienced brief chest pains before.

The original story had always been waiting in the back of my mind.

Twenty-five years old.

Heart attack.

Alone in the yard.

But I had already survived past twenty-five.

I assumed the ending had been broken.

"Kevin?"

Beatrix's smile disappeared.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

The pressure sharpened.

My fork slipped from my hand.

Beatrix was on her feet immediately.

"Kevin."

I tried to stand.

My legs gave way.

The sky tilted.

I heard Beatrix shouting my name as I collapsed beneath the cherry tree.

For one strange second, I almost laughed.

So this was it.

The original story had finally caught up with me.

The yard.

The heart attack.

Everything was exactly as written.

Except for one thing.

I wasn't alone.

Beatrix caught me before my head hit the ground.

She checked my pulse, shouted instructions into her phone, and started emergency treatment without hesitation.

The last thing I saw before losing consciousness was cherry leaves trembling above me.

When I woke up, the ceiling was white.

Machines beeped beside the bed.

Beatrix was asleep in a chair with her head resting against the wall.

I stared at her for several seconds.

Then I realized I was alive.

The movement woke her.

Her eyes opened.

For a second, she simply stared at me.

Then she stood so quickly the chair nearly fell backward.

"Don't you ever do that to me again."

My throat was dry.

"I'll put it on my schedule."

Her eyes filled with tears.

"Idiot."

She called the attending physician.

I had suffered a serious cardiac event caused by an undiagnosed congenital condition.

If treatment had been delayed, even by several minutes, I probably wouldn't have survived.

Several minutes.

In the original story, there had been nobody in the yard with me.

My body had remained undiscovered.

This time, Beatrix had been there.

The story hadn't changed because Cheryl completed her mission.

It had changed because I had finally allowed someone new into my life.

Later that afternoon, Cheryl and Jasper arrived.

Jasper ran toward the bed but stopped himself before climbing onto it.

"Can I hug you?"

The question surprised me.

He had never asked permission before.

I nodded.

He carefully wrapped his arms around me.

His small body trembled.

"I thought you died."

"I'm still here."

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

He started crying.

"For saying Gavin was my daddy. For not liking your food sometimes. For saying I didn't want you to come to school. For leaving on my birthday."

I closed my eyes.

Five years of tiny wounds came back all at once.

But the person apologizing for them was a frightened child.

I placed my hand on his head.

"Jasper."

He sniffled.

"You don't have to apologize for everything your mother taught you."

Cheryl flinched behind him.

"But I hurt you."

"You did."

His face crumpled.

"And I'm still angry."

He looked surprised.

"But being angry doesn't mean I want something bad to happen to you."

I wiped his tears.

"You need time to understand what happened. So do I."

He nodded.

The System spoke.

"Affection toward dependent entity: thirty-one percent."

Cheryl heard it.

She smiled faintly.

Then the System added, "Affection toward host: zero percent."

Her smile disappeared.

She walked to my bedside after Jasper stepped away.

"Beatrix saved you."

"Yes."

"If she hadn't been there..."

"I'd be dead."

Cheryl began crying.

"That was supposed to be me."

I looked at her.

"What?"

"I was supposed to be beside you."

Her voice cracked.

"For nine years, I was beside you. I should have known. I should have noticed something was wrong."

"You were too busy waiting to leave."

She closed her eyes.

For once, she didn't defend herself.

"You're right."

Those two words surprised me more than all her apologies.

Cheryl wiped her face.

"I kept thinking if I could make you love me again, everything would go back to normal."

She looked toward Beatrix, who was speaking to a nurse outside.

"But there is no normal to go back to, is there?"

"No."

She nodded.

"I finally understand."

The System interrupted.

"Return mission deadline: seven days remaining."

Cheryl's shoulders stiffened.

"Target affection required: fifty percent."

"Current target affection toward host: zero percent."

For the first time, Cheryl didn't panic.

She simply looked at me.

"I'm not going to complete it."

"Probably not."

"No."

She shook her head.

"I mean I'm done trying."

The System warned her immediately.

"Failure will result in permanent return to origin world."

"I know."

"Host, confirm abandonment?"

Cheryl looked at Jasper.

Then she looked back at me.

"Not yet."

I frowned.

She smiled sadly.

"I need seven days."

"For what?"

"Not to win you back."

Her eyes filled with tears again.

"To teach Jasper how to say goodbye properly this time."