A college friend once told me that love only came to those who deserved it.

I couldn't argue with her then because I had never fallen in love, and still haven't. However, watching a little ball of sunshine fuss over the grumpy Mr. Castilla finally made me think that maybe —just maybe— my friend was wrong and was probably unhappy in her relationship.

"Why do you never say anything before you disappear for hours?" The short brunette grasped Lincoln's face in her small hands and pulled it closer to hers. "I was really worried."

Lincoln's eyes had softened as he gazed at the woman. "I'm alright, Bella. I was just a little delayed by Miss Danbury."

I turned to him with widened eyes.

Why on earth will you tell your wife that another woman delayed you?

I turned to Mrs. Castilla with an apologetic smile to rectify her idiot husband's mistake. "My apologies, what he meant to say was-"

"Oh my, you look dreadful," Bella exclaimed. "Come, you need to take a bath."

My brain froze for two seconds. "W-wh...huh?"

Before I could mutter something coherent, she pulled me into the house and up the stairs so quickly that I wasn't able to observe the interior properly. She left me in a room and told me to sit prettily and wait for her.

As she shut the door behind her, I let out a sigh because of the deafening silence that ensued. I laid back on the bed thinking.

How do I get home? Do I simply stay here forever?

Wait...but if I died, why did I not transmigrate into the body of someone who had died or...did I not die?

I shook my head.

I clearly remember that dirty kid robber shooting me.

Besides, wouldn't I be in my own body if I didn't die?

So if I died and came to this body then that should mean this body's original host is in my dead body.

I pursed my lips.

That's not very fair to Imelda.

"Maybe I have to die again to get home," I said to myself.

"What?" Lincoln's wife asked.

I sat up immediately. "I didn't realize you were here."

"I noticed you were deep in thought. I did not want to be a disturbance."

I shook my head, somewhat grateful for her consideration. I wonder where Lincoln had found such a nice, beautiful woman. "If anything, I am the disturbance. Thank you, Bella."

"Oh, you are such a darling," she said as she gave me a quick hug before hurrying back to the door to bring in three buckets of water.

Just before I could ask her what the buckets were for, I suddenly remembered that the 19th century didn't have showers. My eyes gravitated to the copper basin in the corner of the room.

I was going to bathe in that. I was really going to bathe in that...that...that germ contraption?

"Don't just stand there." Bella walked briskly to me. "Turn around. Let me help you undress."

I stilled myself before I could show any form of hesitance in my face. This was normal. It was normal for a lady to undress another lady in their time. I turned around and let Bella work her magic.

As soon as the corset came off, I could almost cry with joy. How did I not realize I had been suffocating?

When she finished, I quickly stepped into the bath trying to hide myself discreetly. Bella noticed and laughed.

"You, Miss Danbury, have some decency in you unlike most of your generation. I wonder why my brother always complained about you."

I could almost see Lincoln's scowling face ranting to Bella right before they slept about...hold on, brother?

"Lincoln is your brother?" I asked, letting surprise get the best of me.

Bella cocked her head in confusion as she poured water on me. "Yes. What did you think we were?"

I turned my face away and focused on scrubbing my arms, embarrassment coloring my cheeks.

"Oh," Bella suddenly said before she burst into laughter.

I risked a glance at her and knew immediately that she knew about what I thought Lincoln was to her. That knowledge only deepened the color on my cheeks.

"It is quite alright, Miss Danbury. Lincoln and I don't act or look like siblings anyway," she said, trying to calm me.

"But no one has probably assumed you were a couple," I mumbled.

"True. True," Bella said then laughed again. "Lincoln needs to hear this."

"No," I shrieked and held her hand, then cleared my throat before speaking again. "No, do not tell him. I'd never hear the end of it."

Bella hummed with a devious smile on her face. "So, Imelda, what do you think of my brother?"

***

In the window of the Castilla house's front parlor, I stared at the lovely green dress Bella had lent me. The bodice had a flowery pattern that made it seem like vines were snaking up the dress from the waist to the round neckline. It had a pinched waistline attached to a corset and a skirt that fell to my shin. I pulled on the full sleeves that stopped above my elbow. I loved the dress especially because it seemed out of its time.

Bella had told me that she was a seamstress and worked for a dressmaker whose dress prices made the shop suitable only for those on the higher end of society. The dress I wore was one of her extra designs that she hadn't put up for sale because it was unpopular. I had volunteered to be a model for all her unpopular designs.

"Well, don't you look spiffing?" Lincoln said sarcastically behind me, mocking how fascinated I was with my dress.

I turned around to give him a piece of my mind and stopped short before I could say a word.

He had ditched the hat, his long coat, and his waistcoat and was wearing a white shirt with the two upper buttons open and tight-fitting trousers. There was a cloth around his neck that he was using to wipe his wet curly hair. With half his hair flopping in front of his blue eyes and his slightly muscular yet lanky body, he looked like a man who had just reached adulthood. The thought made me giggle.

Lincoln's eyes narrowed. "Why are you laughing?"

"You look much younger like this than with your hat."

He raised an eyebrow in curiosity. "How old did you think I was?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. Thirty-eight? Forty?"

"I'm thirty-two," he grumbled.

I watched for a few seconds as he tried to wipe the front of his hair as he spoke. I took the towel and helped him to clean the parts he kept missing while laughing.

"You look like a little child, Lincoln. What person can't properly clean their own hair?"

He mumbled incoherently and let me finish before grabbing the towel from my hand forcefully. With the cloth no longer covering his eyes, he could see how close he was to me. His eyes momentarily dropped to my lips. As if remembering the kiss we shared a few hours ago, we took a step away from each other in unison.

"It's about time you got home, Miss Danbury. Your mother must be worried," he said. His words sounded like he was trying to remind us who we were and what consequences there would be if it was discovered that we had shared such a moment, albeit involuntarily.

I cleared my throat awkwardly. "Of course, Mr Castilla. My family must be worried."

We heard a groan from the stairs. I turned in that direction and saw Bella sitting and clutching her chest like some life-threatening disease was plaguing her. I wanted to rush to her but didn't when I saw Lincoln still in his position staring at her.

"You two are so boring," Bella said and held her face in her hands. "I was expecting a kiss at the very least."

My cheeks flamed immediately, less because of embarrassment and more because of guilt. I could no longer look Bella in the eyes.

She noticed this and began to approach me like a predator. "Imelda, is there something you're not telling me?"

"W-why w-would you th-think that?" I stuttered.

"There is definitely something you're hiding from me. Both of you."

I looked up to find Lincoln for help but the little traitor had deserted me.

As if he knew I was talking about him, he yelled from outside, "Miss Danbury, time is money."

"Yes, of course." I darted past Bella. "I have to go, Bella. I will see you later."

"Wait, no. You cannot leave yet," she yelled after me but before she could finish her sentence, I was on the street hurrying after my savior in dark apparel.

"Hold on, do not walk so quickly, Mr Castilla," I said. He slowed down but ensured to keep a substantial amount of space between us. Meanwhile, I was memorizing the roads that would lead me back to Lincoln's house.

"Where can I get a map of the city?" I asked.

"I have a few in my house. Why do you need one?"

I gave him a deadpan look. He stared at me for a few seconds then turned away, having understood the message.

"I will get one to you tomorrow," he promised.

I beamed. "So you would come to my house tomorrow?"

"No. Your mother will not let me past the door. I will meet you at the left street corner from your embroidery lessons."

"How will I get to my embroidery lessons?" I asked.

"Your mother accompanies you every morning," Lincoln replied.

A grin grew slowly on my face. "You seem to know an awful lot about me, Mr Castilla."

"Not voluntarily. You talk too much."

My mouth flapped open and closed as I stood, for the first time since I met Lincoln, unable to make a comeback, mostly because of his indifferent tone when he spoke.

"Imelda talks too much," I muttered lamely.

Soon, we arrived at Imelda's home—a good-looking cottage that had no more than four rooms from what I could see. Then, I looked around and saw only about five other houses within my line of vision.

"Why does it feel like we are on the outskirts of town?" I asked, still puzzled at how the bustling streets had become this quiet space where I could even hear the wind.

"The Danburys live on the outskirts of the city," Lincoln said and pointed to the house. "Go in. It might rain soon."

I looked at the greying clouds and then at Lincoln. "You, hurry back and escape the rain."

"Right. I will but first, I need to be sure you do not go traipsing around in the rain with some man."

I huffed. "Just what do you take me for?"

I stomped my way to the house and threw open the low gate of the small white fence. I glanced back and Lincoln tipped his hat to me before he disappeared around the bend.

I turned around and stared at the off-white door of my supposed house.

Come on, Andrea. You can do this. It's just a door.

Taking a few breaths, I held the doorknob and opened the door.

I didn't expect to see an old man and a woman who looked exactly like Imelda Danbury kissing like their lives depended on it.