Future or Love

1
My Ph.D. acceptance letter had just arrived when my advisor, Professor Davies, called—he wanted me to lead a research project in Tehran.
But my girlfriend Ava begged me to decline, urging me to take a local job instead.
She claimed she was from three years in the future, where she’d watched me die in an airborne missile attack.
I believed her. I passed the opportunity to her childhood friend Julian.
Three years later, Tehran was perfectly safe, and Julian returned a celebrated hero.
At the university’s distinguished alumni ceremony, he took the stage: “I want to thank Ava specially. She was my north star—guided me right and supported me when no one else would.”
Their “star-crossed love” story went viral as a tragedy. Forums overflowed with pity for them and scorn for me. It got so bad that online vigilantes doxxed me and showed up at my apartment building.
“Give Ava back to Professor Lin! You don’t deserve her!” they screamed.
In the scuffle that followed, I was shoved down a flight of stairs. The last thing I heard was the crack of my skull.
Then I woke up—back in my apartment, on the eve of my planned departure.
Listening to Ava’s “heartfelt” pleas, I pulled off the silver ring we’d exchanged and tossed it into the campus lake.
“I’m going to Tehran, Ava. We’re done.”
…
The ripples spread across the water’s surface, a perfect metaphor for our three-year relationship, now dissolving into nothing.
Ava’s lips trembled, her almond-shaped eyes instantly welling with tears.
“Leo… you don’t believe me? I’m really from three years in the future!”
She gripped my wrist, her nails digging into my skin. “You can’t go to Tehran! You’ll die!”
“Ava, your storytelling is worse than a middle schooler’s creative writing project.”
I laughed coldly, prying her fingers off one by one. I pointed to my own temple. “Do you want me to call Clearwater Psychiatric for you? They have the best doctors in the city.”
Her face flushed a deep crimson. A tear splashed onto her collar, darkening the fabric.
“Leo Vance!” She raised her hand as if to strike me, but it froze mid-air. The hand, still adorned with the matching bracelet we wore, fell limply to her side.
“Leo, I’m not lying… I really did travel back in time to save you…”
I scoffed and pulled out my phone. “Should I call you an ambulance now? The ones from Clearwater are white. They’d match your dress perfectly.”
Ava’s expression twisted, tears streaking her mascara down her cheeks in two black rivers. Her eyes were bloodshot as she glared at me. “You’ll regret this, Leo! You’ll regret it!”
She spun around and stormed away.
“Wait—” I called out just as she turned.
Her body went rigid. As she slowly turned back, a hopeful smile was already blooming on her face. A second later, she flew into my arms.
“Leo… you do believe me, don’t you? I knew you would…”
She looked up, her face a mess of tear tracks, a single crystalline drop clinging to her eyelashes.
I looked down at the face so close to mine—who could have guessed such a venomous scheme lay hidden behind that angelic mask?
My expression remained blank as I stepped back, putting distance between us. “I just wanted to remind you to get your things out of my apartment. Today.”
Ava’s pupils contracted, her chest heaving. “Fine! That’s just fine!” she seethed through clenched teeth. “You think I even want any of it?”
Back at the apartment, she stomped into the bedroom in a huff, slamming the closet door with a loud bang.
I calmly retrieved three large storage bins and began tossing everything—her clothes, her makeup, even her toothbrush—inside. I didn’t spare the framed photo on the nightstand, her favorite one of us.
When I stuffed the birthday gift she gave me last year—the matching scarf she’d knitted herself—into the bin, she froze.
“Leo…” Her voice was suddenly soft, trembling with disbelief. “Are you really… going to be this cruel?”
I didn’t answer, instead sweeping the various trinkets she’d given me from the bookshelf into a box.
A ceramic mug slipped from her grasp and shattered on the floor—one of a matching pair she’d made herself.
She grabbed my arm, tears streaming down her face like a broken string of pearls. “Is this how you treat me? For caring about you? For being afraid you’ll get hurt?”
“Don’t you have a heart?”
I slapped her hand away. “Save it. Your acting skills wouldn’t even get you into drama school.”
She staggered back, her expression shifting from wounded to venomous. “You’ll get what’s coming to you! I can’t wait for the day you come crawling back to me, begging!”
Watching her slam the door on her way out, I clenched my fists until my knuckles were white.
I could still hear the phantom sound of my own skull cracking.
In my last life, it was this exact, pitiful act that convinced me. I gave up the Tehran project, only to watch from the sidelines as Julian basked in the glory that should have been mine.
This time, there would be no repeat performance.
I let out a long breath and began to pack. My flight was tomorrow afternoon. There was still much to do.
Just as I zipped up my carry-on, my phone buzzed violently on the desk.
I unlocked it to see my class group chat exploding with messages.
Holy crap, have you guys seen the university forum? Someone’s predicting a plane crash tomorrow!
They even listed the exact departure time and the cause of the malfunction…
Has to be a prank, right? But the details are way too specific…
My heart sank.
I opened the forum. A pinned post was titled: URGENT WARNING: FLIGHT DEPARTING AT 10:20 AM TOMORROW WILL CRASH. The author was listed as “Anonymous.”
My finger hovered over the screen. I could almost picture Ava’s triumphant smile.
I remembered this incident vividly from my past life—the plane’s engine failed on takeoff, and it crashed back onto the runway. Fortunately, no one was seriously injured.
Besides me, a man reborn, only Ava, the “time traveler,” would know about it. But no one would ever ground a flight based on an anonymous, unsubstantiated prediction.
The next day, the airport was bustling. I had just cleared security when Ava blocked my path.
She'd artfully applied makeup to look exhausted, complete with faint, bruised shadows under her eyes.
“Leo!” She clutched my boarding pass, her voice thick with tears. “You saw the warning on the forum, didn’t you? Please, don’t gamble with your life…”
Julian appeared out of nowhere, standing behind her in a sharp suit. “Leo, Ava is worried sick about you. Is this how you treat her?”
I let out a cold laugh. If I hadn’t lived this all before, I might have actually been moved by their little performance.
Just as I was about to push past them, the airport’s PA system crackled to life, its voice cutting through the noise.
“Urgent announcement regarding flight DH555… due to a mechanical failure… I repeat, all passengers please evacuate the boarding gate immediately…”
A commotion rippled through the crowd.
Through the terminal’s massive windows, we could see a passenger jet tilted at an odd angle on the runway, a plume of black smoke billowing from its tail.
Ava’s tears came on command. She grabbed my arm, her hand trembling. “Now do you believe me? I’m really doing this for your own good…”
A tear clung to her eyelash, sparkling in the sunlight. “Stay, Leo. Please? We can start over…”
I stared at her manicured fingertips—they were unconsciously stroking the cuff of Julian’s sleeve.
How familiar.
In my past life, not long after she’d convinced me to stay, she had appeared on Julian’s arm at that alumni gala.
“Move.” I pulled my arm free and headed for the information desk.
Ava’s tearful shout followed me. “You’ll regret this, Leo!”
When I got home, my phone was buzzing nonstop. The campus forum had gone nuclear. Ava had revealed herself.
To all my fellow students, I am the anonymous user who posted the plane crash warning. I come from three years in the future to save the man I love, @LeoVance.
The message sent the group chat into a frenzy. I was being tagged relentlessly.
Leo, is this for real?
This is some sci-fi movie shit!
Did Ava finally snap?
I stared at the screen, saying nothing, my fingers drumming a silent rhythm on the table. It was a brilliant move on her part—she knew it was impossible to verify, but she’d chosen the most sensational way to make her claim.
Then, Ava dropped another bombshell.
Three years from now, a war will break out in Tehran. Leo Vance will be killed in an airstrike. @ProfessorDavies, I’m begging you, please choose someone else!
A vein throbbed in my temple. I quickly typed a reply. Professor, today was a coincidence. Mechanical failures are common. I am still fully committed to the project.
Ava replied instantly. Leo, why won’t you just believe me? She followed it with a broken-heart emoji.
Fine. How about this: tonight at 11 PM, there will be a fire in the South End, started by an electric scooter battery. If I’m right again, will you give up the project?
Julian immediately jumped in to support her. I can vouch for her. Ava has accurately predicted several things before.
The chat exploded. People were demanding a live stream to witness the event. Others started tagging friends who lived in the South End to go check.
My hand tightened around my phone until my knuckles were white. I remembered that fire. It had been on the local news in my past life.
The minutes ticked by. At precisely 11:00 PM, dozens of messages popped up at once.
Well? Nothing’s happening.
LOL, Ava’s magic show flopped.
So the plane crash was a lucky guess? And Julian was in on it…
But in the next second, a low boom rolled across the city, audible to nearly everyone.
In the distance, an orange glow lit up the night sky over the South End, and the faint wail of fire sirens could be heard.
HOLY SHIT IT’S REAL!
AVA IS A PROPHET!
Leo, for the love of God, don’t go!
The tone of the group chat changed on a dime.
I gripped my phone, my knuckles bone-white.
It rang. It was Professor Davies.
“Leo, the department held an emergency meeting. We’re revoking your travel clearance. This project…”
“Professor!” I cut in, my voice urgent. “The fire, the plane, they can all be explained…”
“That’s enough!” Professor Davies’ tone was uncharacteristically harsh. “The university cannot risk a student’s life. The department will select a new candidate for the project tomorrow.”
The dial tone was like a slap across the face.
I hurled my phone against the wall. Its shattered screen reflected my own distorted face.
Just then, it lit up with a text from Ava.
Now you have to believe me, Leo.
It was followed by a nauseating heart emoji.
The next morning, I walked into the department conference room with dark circles under my eyes.
Around the corner, Julian and Ava stood together, as if they were waiting for me.
“Well, look who it is. Why does our resident genius look like he’s been through a meat grinder?” Julian leaned against the windowsill, looking me up and down with exaggerated pity.
He leaned in close, his voice a low whisper. “Pulling an all-nighter won’t help you. The Tehran project… it’s mine.”
Ava gently tugged on his sleeve, her voice dripping with false concern. “Leo, Julian is just worried about you. Tehran is too dangerous…”
“Get out of my way,” I said, my face a cold mask.
Julian immediately wrapped an arm around Ava’s shoulders, glaring at me. “It’s over, Leo. Just accept it.”
“While I’m in Tehran publishing a lead author paper in Nature, you can rot in this dingy lab forever.”
Ava playfully tapped his chest, but couldn’t hide the smile playing on her lips.
I pushed past them without a word and shoved open the conference room door.
The chatter inside died instantly. A dozen pairs of eyes—some sympathetic, some curious—fixed on me.
The graduate assistant, a kind junior student, handed me a cup of coffee. “Leo… are you, uh, okay?”
I managed a tight smile and said nothing, walking directly to the podium. The hum of the projector starting up sounded like the frantic pulse in my temples.
On the flash drive was all of my research from my past life—optimized quantum algorithms, material simulation data, even a first draft of the paper I had planned to publish.
“Professors,” I said, tapping the microphone, my voice hoarse. “I believe this project can only be completed by me—”
Before I could finish, the door swung open again.
Ava walked in elegantly on Julian’s arm.
Julian strode directly to the podium and snatched the microphone from my hand.
“Professors, if you’ll allow me, I’d like to present my own research proposal first,” he said, a confident, winning smile on his face.
When his PowerPoint presentation lit up the screen, my blood ran cold.
The charts, the data models, even the goddamn color scheme—it was all identical to what I had prepared.

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