Chapter 46 - Her Last Chance

My father has always believed that every obstacle a person faces is simply a challenge for us to be better. I have faced so many difficulties since I arrive in Florence. I am no longer certain what life is preparing me for. I could have left so many times but I can never find myself leaving for the one reason I stayed. Botticelli.

Even as I was standing in the middle of an empty room within the Medici household, I find comfort in the memory of Botticelli's eyes. Those amber eyes filled with intent and curiosity would stare at me for hours, and then he would draw me the way he sees the beauty of my body and soul combined.

"You need not have me dragged out of the streets if you wish to speak to me," I said, standing my ground as he slowly paces the room with his hands behind his back, looking at me either to challenge me or to read me.

"Invitation is for friends, Antonia." He said when he reaches my back. If this is his way of intimidating me, he has greatly succeeded.

"I have persistently sent you letters for 2 years. I received nothing back and yet you had forced me into coming down here as if I'm some criminal who has done you wrong." I said, my voice breaking from my frustration.

Remembering the way I was ignored for a long time only to inquire about my son still cuts deep in my heart. It is a wound that was never healed and probably never will.

"Yes, I do remember receiving those letters. Including the ring that was given to you by my late brother." When he walks in front of me, his eyes are indifferent with complete disregard for whatever I feel. I can already tell that wherever this is going, I would most likely be condemned. "However, as much as I like to visit our past, I had something else in mind." His back is facing me deliberately as he paused. When he turns around, his eyes are suddenly filled with loathing. "Let's start with your intentions of keeping my brother away in Pisa before the assassination." I was rendered speechless. It was not because I do not know what to say, but it was because of what I couldn't say. For 7 years, I have thought that this subject will never be brought up again. He didn't seem to act differently then and now I'm starting to wonder what cause his sudden interest in what happened. "Speechless now, are we?" He said in mockery. "Do you need me to refresh your memory?"

"I vividly remember what happened, Lorenzo," I said as I look at the wall in front of me, unable to look him in the eye without giving anything away. "Is it peculiar to ask my fiancé a time for just the two of us?"

"It would not have been, but even my brother thought it was odd for you to bring up such a proposal." At this point, I know he will not give up until he gets what he wants. Either I do it willingly or he does it by force. My hands began to tremble in fear, I hid my hands behind me to conceal it. "I think it is best if we start from the beginning. Perhaps that way, you will be disposed to tell me whatever you are trying to hide from me all these years."

The sun began its descent. The candles light up the room, making the room dreary and frightening. He fishes something out of his pocket, and my emerald ring glimmers from the reflection of the lights emitted by the candles. He stares at it for a few seconds before speaking.

"My mother has always had a deep-seated hatred towards you especially when you ignited the rebellious side of my brother. She has tried to vilify you in the whole family, especially my brother. Even on her deathbed 3 years ago, she would speak of her aversion towards you. I know you may not notice this but my mother is better than that. It takes a whole lot for her to feel such a way towards anyone. When I asked her about it, she would always tell me the same answer. She said you are hiding something powerful and dangerous. She would not tell me more than that, but my mother feared you as well." Listening to how Lucrezia hates me makes me understand why she has been willing to condemn me if it means it will get rid of me from their family. She knew deep down that I do not belong here. "and then, as I have mentioned before, Giuliano has noticed the sudden change from you. For a year, you have been very clear that you do not wish to be with him but before the assassination, you suddenly became more loving and caring." Now, looking into my eyes, my lips parted in fear. "You knew the assassination, didn't you?"

I couldn't say yes, no matter how much my body wants to respond truthfully. If I tell him, he may also think that I'm a witch or that I'm crazy. I stood my ground as I keep my lips sealed, even though I am not certain of what he might do.

"I see. That's too bad." He said as he places the ring back in his pocket. He moves towards the door, slightly opens it, and watches something from there. "It's been 7 years. I would have shown you Giulio if you were cooperating."

"Giulio?" I said in confusion.

"Giulio di Giuliano de Medici. Your son. Well, now he is my son as I have officially adopted him." He said without looking at me.

My heart began to palpitate in excitement and happiness. I suddenly forgot that I'm being interrogated. A smile crept up on my face upon realizing that he is truly alive. "My son." Suddenly, I heard laughter coming from the courtyard and I knew in my gut that it was my son.

Acting on instinct, I walk towards the door to see him. However, when I was about to look, Lorenzo pushed me to the wall as he restrains my hands to my side and looks sternly into my eyes. "You did not cooperate with me, Antonia. You don't get to see him. Not even a single hair on his body." I started panting from realizing he was just as menacing as his mother. My hope completely diminishes as my tears began to fall. "I will keep you here as long as I want, Antonia." Then he started to look from my eyes down to my body as if he were taking off my clothes. His gaze started to sicken me. "Even with all those years, the time has been good to you. No wonder my brother became desperate to have you." When he let me go, he holds the knob on the door but spoke before opening it. "You will tell me everything I need to know Antonia. Sooner or later, you will."

When he leaves, I heard him lock the door and left. My knees felt weak and I fell to the floor as I continue to cry. Not only has Lorenzo dragged me out here to interrogate me, but he's also blackmailing me with my son, and perhaps the worst part is, that his eyes tell me he has evil intent. The same intent his brother had a long time ago.

Is he prepared to covet his nephew's mother and a lover of his late brother? I don't even know why I had to ask. It was very evident in his eyes. The years have only made him weaker in his desires and I fear that it might happen to me all over again.

In the following days, I felt sick. He regularly visits me in the room and would repeatedly ask me the same question. He even threatened to erase me from history, especially from my son if I don't speak. Even then, I did not break. Lorenzo may keep me here as a prisoner but he is intent on making sure I'm well enough to speak the truth.

No matter how much my stomach ached for the food and my dried lips thirsted for water, I resisted taking a single bite or drop from the meal he gives me. On the third day, I already knew I'm losing consciousness.

It is the longest a body could go through without water. Perhaps in a state of hallucination, my only solace was the vision of my husband. Even at this very moment, I see him as my eyes felt heavy.

I might die today to keep the secret that brought me here. I have forsaken myself, the chance to see my son, and years of peace with my husband.

Antonia. Stay alive. It is not your time yet. A voice said in my head as I see nothing but darkness.

"Antonia..." When I open my eyes, I saw Botticelli looking at me with concern as he rubs my cheek. "Thank God." He said upon seeing my eyes open. He brings my hands to his lips and plants kisses on them repeatedly.

The door opens, revealing Filippa bringing a tray of food for me. Her smile is sweet as she walks toward me. "You must eat, Antonia. You need to get your strength back." She said as she lays it down on the nightstand next to me.

It is then that I realize that I'm back home. I'm in our room. Filippa was about to help me up when Botticelli stops her. "I'll do it." He said. "I'll help you sit up so you can start eating, okay?" He said in his ever-so-gentle voice. I nodded and smiled weakly at him. He carefully lifted me, arrange the pillows behind me and gently let me lean on them before taking the bowl of soup to me. Filippa smiled again before leaving the room. After a couple of spoonfuls, I finally feel able to speak.

"H-how did you save me?" I said, my voice still cracking from the dryness of my throat.

"I managed to talk to Lorenzo." He said. As he feeds me more, I started to see through him. He is keeping something from me.

"What did you do?"

Sighing, he places the bowl on his lap and looks down. "I revoked my employment from them."

"What?" I said in disbelief. My heart sinks from hearing the news. Botticelli's love for painting was always backed by the Medicis. Leaving their employment might hurt his career.

"He didn't accept it." Relief washes through me as I lean back. "He allowed me to take you home to take care of you. Provided you tell him everything he wants to know."

"I can't. I must not tell him."

"I have no choice, Antonia. I cannot lose you because of a secret." He said in frustration.

"He wanted me to tell him about my knowledge of his brother's assassination, Botticelli. No explanation would sate him, not even the truth. Whether I tell him or not, I'm doomed. He may take me away from you forever or he may condemn me to be burned in the stakes." I said as I look down at my hands. Remembering his malicious gaze at me frightens me. "He even used my son to blackmail me into submitting to his will."

He was silent for a while, thinking deeply about the situation. For 5 years of marriage, we were happy. Living simply yet contented. Now, the past is suddenly catching up with us, causing a massive rift in our happy life together. "Then there's only one option left." I look up to see him looking at me in pain. I knew then that I definitely will not like what he'll say. "You need to go back to your time."

I felt my heart ripping apart. I do not want to. I cannot bring myself to be apart from him again. I shake my head no vehemently upon hearing him. "No. How can you say that?"

"I'd rather live a life without you if it means you are safe than have you stay when you're life is in danger."

I bit my lip in frustration. "But I do not know if I'll be able to be back here with you. My father has tried. He failed numerous times."

He places the bowl down on the floor and reaches for my hands. Clasping it encouragingly, he smiles bitterly and says, "It's a risk I'm willing to make. If you have to be away to keep you safe then we will do it."

I knew Botticelli enough to understand that when it comes to the people he cared about, it would be difficult to change his mind as soon as he hatched a plan. "No, please. Anything else but that. I can't keep parting with the people I love." I begged. As tears stream my cheeks, Botticelli gently wipes them away as his eyes start to well. With his firm and unmoving resolve, I gave in. I move closer and lean my forehead against his as I silently cry. "I'll promise I'll do whatever I can to be back by your side."

He cups my cheeks and then plants a kiss against my lips. He pulls away to speak. "Then I'll wait. I'll wait no matter how long it takes. Just come back to me."

As we look into each other's eyes, I saw hope flicker in his as I try to memorize every detail of his face as much as I can. With tears welling up in my eyes as we realize what was to come to us, I inched closer to kiss him once more.

Kissing me back passionately, I felt his delicate thumb wiping away the tears that began falling from my eyes. It is the most difficult thing I have yet to do, but if I were to fulfill my vow to him, I must endure the wait to finally be with him in the future. Our future.

As Botticelli spoon me in our bed, his relaxed steady breathing felt so calming. Normally, it would render me to sleep, but seeing as our options are limited to only one, both my mind and heart refuse to succumb to slumber.

Suddenly, the future I have pictured of us only a few weeks ago—us growing old, telling each other stories, and the things I have kept from him regarding the future— seems so blurry and distant.

I dare not say it, I could not stomach to accept it but deep down within me, I am aware of the possibility that we might end up the same way my father and mother did.

As I jump into the rabbit hole, questions and ifs filled my head. What if the stone could only be used once by a person? What if something happens to Botticelli while I was gone to my time that he could not conjure me back? What if I came back to my time and I no longer have a home and we're still at war?

Tears began to drop once again as my mind wander about when suddenly, Botticelli tighten his embrace around me and kissed my head while he sleeps.

I gently and slowly turn my head around to face him. His face, ever so calm as he rests, fills my heart with nothing but happiness and joy. "I love you, Antonia." He whispered all of a sudden.

Normally, I sleep soundly when we sleep together. I rarely have nightmares anymore and will peacefully sleep until the next day. I do not know if he speaks in his sleep or whether he is awake. Even then, I could only smile.

I lean closer to him and kiss him softly on his lips. He suddenly pulls me closer as he reciprocates it.

"Forgive me, did I wake you?" I said quietly when I pulled away.

He then opened his amber eyes and look at me as he smiled. "I can feel your uneasiness and I do not wish to sleep while something is keeping you up."

Sighing, I responded. "I'm sorry."

"There's no need to apologize. I would love to keep you company until dawn if sleep still evades you." He said as he smiles a half.

Moments like this make me feel so lucky regardless of our current situation. Life may have been quite difficult for me, but having a loving, gentle husband like him makes me forget all of the bad things and only focus on every good thing I get to experience. "I do not want things to end between us. If waking up tomorrow means leaving you, then I do not want to sleep." I whispered.

For a few seconds, Botticelli was silent. In those few seconds, I can already tell he knows what is going on inside my head. "Though we are apart, our lives may be separated by time, my heart will be yours always and forever. Nothing will end it, not even time itself."

"So is mine. I just wish we did not have to be parted." I said as I swallow the lump in my throat. Suppressing my tears.

He smiled and spoke. "I do not want to part with you either but you know we must. For your sake." Knowing my mind and heart will never be at ease, he proceeded to bring my left hand closer between us and showed me my ring. "I poured everything that I can with this ring, my heart along with it. If you ever feel lonely, or at times you are missing me, hold the ring close to your heart and think of me. Think of us and how we'll soon be together again and I will do the same until your return."

Someone who used to not be able to speak such depth of his feelings before, now speaks such meaningful sweet words to me as comfortably as he does now.

I took his hand where he have his ring and run my thumb against it. "Then I ask you to always place it near where your heart lies. You will be waiting longer than I will, so keep me close to your heart and mind. I vowed to God that I will love you until the end of my life, and so I shall. Hundreds of years apart."

With hearts swelling with so much love for each other, we kissed once again. Passionate and with urgency. Hearts collided until both our souls began to feel a tiny bit of peace.

This life is difficult, but in order to keep my love for him, I must fight for tomorrow for the future we have always dreamed of shall come true.

Lorenzo will die in April 1492. I could no longer remember the date, but I am fairly certain of the year and month. Father has remarked it as the start of the decline of arts in Florence. Botticelli only needs to wait for another 7 years.

We went outside the city, into the woods where Tuscan poppy grows in the meadow. The only thing I have is my ring. I left everything to Botticelli for I will be back. As I look into the stones in my hands, one was the very same that lead me here and now and confronts me with the truth that I must head back. It feels like a lifetime ago. I no longer know how to live my life in the 20th century.

Botticelli stood in front of me, waiting for me to do what I must. I handed over the other stone to him. "I was told you must have it in your possession as the other stone will lead me back to you," I said, my voice filled with a mixture of fear, heartache, longing, and love.

Botticelli took the stone and stare at it for a few seconds before looking back into my eyes. "I held this stone once. I thought it also could bring back Simonetta." He said as he smiles. "It instead brought me you."

My mouth fell open in realization. "You were the one who willed me here," I said. He then nodded yes. The first memory of when I got here became so clear to me. He was the first one I saw when I got here. He was the one walking away as I arrive. "I will be back here again, and I'll come to you. I promise." I said as I cup his cheeks.

He holds my hands and smile. "I love you with all my heart, Emma Sutton." He said. "I love you indefinitely."

I lean closer and kiss him passionately. My heart pours out for this man and I could not ask for more. He's everything that I need. I wish I have seen it sooner. When I pull away, I replied. "I love you more, indefinitely."

"I cannot wait to see you again in 7 years." He said as he held my hand.

"I'll be home soon," I replied as I held the stone in my chest while the other is outstretched to hold his hand. Closing my eyes, I focus my mind and will myself to go back in my time. To my Uncle Thomas, to York. He is the only one I have left in there.

The stone began to feel warm in my hands. When I open my eyes, Botticelli's tears began to descend from his eyes as he slowly becomes distorted right before me. My hand that is still holding his soon holds nothing but emptiness.