Elara's Choice

"I'm sorry, the tables are full. Can I join you, Sir?" she spoke English. Was she not a local?

"Sure, Miss," Sorin allowed her. "How did you know I speak English?"

The young lady chuckled. "A guess. Your bag and shoes are American brands," she paused, "And the fact that you spoke broken Italian to the waitress when I walked in."

He laughed.

She ordered a simple coffee and looked outside the window. It was just a small moment without any awkwardness before she turned back to him. She said, "I don't mean to be rude, but you remind me a lot of my Papa."

"I will take that as a compliment, but do I look that old?" Sorin tried to be a little bit snarky to add to his impression. But he smiled as though he was very amused by her words.

She smiled back so brightly at that, and Sorin was glad.

"What is your name, young lady?" he asked.

"I'm..." she turned her eyes away for a second, "My name is Sugar."

Sorin raised his eyebrows. That was a literally sweet name, but he had never heard of Sugar being a name before. Maybe it was the nickname she was comfortable with?

But who was he to judge when he had a Romanian name while not knowing his ancestry?

At least, Sugar was most likely an English name.

"He must be very handsome," Sorin said. "Your father."

The woman chuckled. "Papa was."

Sorin's lips froze. Seeing a little bit of sadness in her eyes, he realized that she had lost her father.

"I always wondered if he had a fulfilling and happy life. He always seemed so, but other people would never know, right?" the woman asked.

"So you wouldn't know if he was happy either," Sorin said, "...when actually, it must be everything, including happy."

She smiled before another silence enveloped them.

Amid the gentle hum of conversation and the comforting aroma of brewing coffee, the cafe cocooned its patrons in a cozy ambiance. The soft clinking of porcelain and the sizzle of a milk frother added a melodic undertone to this haven of warmth and camaraderie.

"How about you?" she broke the gentle silence between them. "Do you have a happy and fulfilling life?"

Sorin raised his face. She looked at the woman in front of him, who looked genuinely curious. He paused, his gaze drifting somewhere beyond the horizon for a brief moment. The question, though posed casually, touched a wellspring of reflection.

His life, marked by dedication to duty and the pursuit of justice, had often veered away from personal pursuits. But it wasn't like he was only doing everything for others. Even when he did, he was doing it for himself. For his soul.

So he said, "I think so."

"What, you're not sure?" the woman asked softly. More than simple curiosity or witty remark, Sorin didn't know why he felt her question stemmed from worry. Her eyes faltered for a split second, but subtle enough for people not to notice.

But not Sorin.

He was a crime investigator for years and years. He knew when someone was deliberately showing some kind of emotion or was trying to mask it with something else. But Sorin couldn't feel any malicious intent from her.

"I'm sorry. I kept trying to strike uncomfortable topics. Maybe I accidentally offend you. Please forgive me," the woman said softly.

Sorin shook his head. "No," he said, "Now that you've reminded me, I do think that there's one thing that I've never had the luck of having. But it's not like I regret it. And it doesn't mean my life wasn't happy and fulfilling."

The woman stared at him for a second and then carefully asked. "What is it?"

Family.

But Sorin wasn't going to outwardly say that. This woman was most likely someone raised in a strong and functional family. Hearing how she worried about her father's happiness, even after his death, made him conclude so.

So he answered calmly, a little bit humorously, "A child." He smiled, continuing, "You said I reminded you of your father. It made me think that it would be nice to have a daughter as beautiful and filial as you."

"Ah..."

Suddenly, Sorin noticed a strong blush creep on the lady's cheek. She fidgeted nervously after hearing his statement, but what made Sorin confused was how she sadly smiled after that. Sorin could swear he saw a glassy reflection in her eyes, almost like she was about to...

She blinked as she turned away. Her smile didn't disappear but changed into a more relieved and cheerful one. "Well, it's not too late to find someone and have a daughter now."

"What are you talking about? You're trying to kill this old bone? Raising a child at this age is..." Sorin sighed. "Adopting might be possible, though. There's a lot of unfortunate children out there..."

"You are very commendable, Sir," she said.

Unfortunately, it happened to be quite late, not long after. Sugar took her leave, carrying her jacket in her arm, smiling her last greeting away to him. She rose from her seat and nodded at him before leaving the store. Sorin, on the other hand, felt a weird emptiness.

She walked toward the busy street, checking on her phone to wait for her ride.

"Now that I've seen you up close, I am sure that you're alright..." she whispered.

Time was not linear. With [Time (SSS+)], for Elara, her time happened at the same time. Her past, her present, and her future...

"Are you going to join us... or not, Sorin?"

"Yeah. I will... join..."

That night, Elara heard Sorin answer her question before falling asleep. She wondered why he suddenly changed his answer, even when she had done everything she was supposed to do to make him not want to be a Sovereign.

Each and every action was done meticulously so as not to change the flow of time. She counted every second, every movement... every breath, for her to not trigger any butterfly effect.

Every version of them, every version of time branching into new directions... it felt like it became harder and harder to make him chose not to be a Sovereign. And she existed in all of it at the same time.

But, if not allowing him to be a sovereign would save him, she would do it over and over and over again until her time disappeared. Until the time itself ended as they returned to nothingness.

After hearing his answer this time, Elara warped back to her parent's reign. They were surprised to see her coming all of a sudden, alone, when tomorrow was supposed to be Sorin's last day to choose whether he would stay or go.

But they would be even more bewildered when suddenly, Elara kneeled in front of her Papa. It was the first time in their lives to see her looking this serious.

"Papa, Mama, can I ask you something... but can you not ask me the reason why?" Elara asked.

Papa stared at her. His eyes suddenly turned solemn. "Is it about the boy?"

Elara nodded as she raised her head.

"Can we... pray for the heavens to let him go?"