This Lifetime. | Edward Heffron

Epilogue.

Eleanor watched from the kitchen window as the two lovers joined hands. They were laughing about something, something her ears couldn't hear. She watched them, just like her mother did many, many years ago. But she was not her mother. She wouldn't be like her mother.

Despite the sadness in her heart, Eleanor smiled. A smile she knew no one had seen in years since she left that train station in 1942. "Do you see them, Babe?" she whispered to no one in particular, "We let that happen."

And it was the truth. Had she run away with him when he showed up at her door with a basket of eggs, she would never have met Paul with his bright smile and kind heart, she would never realize the unconditional love she had for her mother, and she would have never have had her Amelia.

She silently thanked the universe for giving her love with Babe a chance, but now she understood why it was never meant to happen. Amelia needed her chance, and Eleanor was going to make sure she took it.

Eleanor watched tearfully as the young man lifted her granddaughter in the air, thinking of all the times Babe had done that to her himself.

They looked just like them, but from another lifetime.