The Inheritance Paradox
Copyright© 2026 by aroslav
Chapter 15 (My Story)
Time Travel Sex Story: Chapter 15 (My Story) - A gripping tale of time travel, family secrets, and redemption. Nathaniel Holbrook uncovers his father’s extraordinary past, spanning centuries and shaping humanity’s future, while confronting profound truths about legacy, love, and identity. A thought-provoking journey through time, history, and the enduring bonds of family.
Caution: This Time Travel Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Heterosexual Fiction Historical Time Travel
I STAYED UP WRITING all night, while the story was fresh in my mind. Of course, I edited and added to it as I found out more details before I published it here. Having Dad start to hyperventilate at the dinner table as he held the little pendant Brenda was wearing was a shock. He got himself under control, but we’d all seen how much it affected him.
“What is it, Dad?” Brenda asked.
“Oh, it’s nothing. It reminded me of something I’d seen once before a long time ago. I didn’t realize it was in Lynn’s collection. That must have been where I saw it,” he said.
I glanced at Megan. She raised an eyebrow and shook her head. Dad had said two names. Sasha, whose story I’d written about in the Chicago Fire adventure, and Rachel, who Megan and I had just discovered in the high school yearbooks. In a photo of the new grads on the school steps, Dad had been wearing a pendant on the outside of his graduation gown. And beneath his and Rachel’s Halloween photo, the caption included the motto, “Unicorns forever.”
I let Brenda and Megan read the story the next morning, but I had to get to work, even if I was sleep deprived. The project had been fast-tracked, and the engineers were ready to start coding as soon as I finished review of the specs. It was hard to keep my attention on my work.
More and more, I was convinced that Dad had experienced something when he was younger. I couldn’t accept that it was actually time travel, but I supposed there were some other explanations. Perhaps he had given the pendant to his first wife, Mary. Then, after their divorce, she simply ditched it and Lynn’s mother or grandmother had picked it up at a thrift store. Missing it later, Dad invented the story of giving it to Sasha after the great fire. It made a strange kind of sense to me and didn’t involve my father in any supernatural adventures.
I would like to have talked it all over with Brenda and Megan, but I was so beat after my sleepless night and long day at work that I went to bed right after dinner.
“Of course, the alternative is that Dad’s time travel story was true and he gave the pendant to Sasha—whose last name we never found out—and that Sasha was an ancestor of Mom’s,” Megan said.
“You are supposed to have the scientific mind,” I said. “I’m the one tasked with writing stories that sound almost like they could have happened.”
“Well, you do a good job of it. For my end of things, we’ll have to wait for the DNA results when I get back to the Institute and can run more tests,” Megan agreed, sort of. “The thing is that when the impossible has been eliminated, we have to consider the improbable.”
“But time travel is impossible.”
“We have no concrete evidence of that. There have been numerous scientific papers written that define various parameters for temporal travel. Simply having not yet realized it doesn’t mean it hasn’t or won’t happen in the future.”
“But if someone from the future traveled back to our age, we’d know about it, wouldn’t we? There would be some kind of evidence,” I argued.
“Having not yet discovered something is not proof that it doesn’t exist,” Megan said. “Take this nucleic acid I’m trying to track down. It seems to have never been discovered before. Does that mean it didn’t exist?”
“I see what you mean, I guess. It just seems so far out on the improbability scale that it’s ridiculous.”
“Wait and see. Collect more stories and see how they connect together,” Megan admonished.
“Right. Well, we have another day of packing and cleaning before you go back to the Institute. Maybe he’ll tell another story.”
Of course, Megan was not idle in her research. Just because I went to work and she was reporting remotely each day for a little while, didn’t mean she wasn’t continuing to try to chase down details about our father.
“You keep writing down the stories, and when you are able, get up to Grand Rapids and investigate the college there. They really don’t have much in the way of an online presence outside their current catalog and enrollment. It still seems to be a pretty conservative religious school, so brace yourself. The president of the college is a minister who graduated from there, so it’s pretty inbred, too.”
“I’ve got a lot of work to do. Writing up Dad’s stories is going to be about all I can handle until after we get them moved. Too bad you can’t be here for the sale in two weeks. I still question the advisability of holding it over the holiday weekend. Do people go to yard sales the day after Independence Day?” I asked.
“I don’t think there’s been an announcement yet. If you think it should wait another week, you can make that suggestion. But that would get you awfully close to their move date,” Megan said.
“You know, it’s getting so I think I need to go through my own home and start downsizing. Zach has graduated and Lisa is two years away from graduation. Maybe Brenda and I should be ready to move to something smaller and put our focus on travel,” I sighed.
“Let me know if you figure out the secret to retirement at fifty, okay?” she laughed.
“Yeah.”
“In the meantime, I’ll see what I can uncover online regarding the Holbrook family history. It’s possible one of Dad’s siblings or our cousins have uploaded some genealogical information. I’ll keep you informed. I’ve started posting inquiries on genealogical forums. If it yields any results, though, I’ll send it to you to follow up on.”
“Gee, thanks.”
Friday, I ran down to the mall during my lunch break. I knew there was a watch repair shop there and I wanted to find out more about the old pocket watch Dad had let me take. I’d been carrying it in my pants pocket, and I looked at it often. I thought I’d see if the shop could get it cleaned up and maybe I’d find a chain of some sort to attach to it so I wouldn’t risk losing it.
“Hey, I wondered if you could take a look at an old watch and give me an appraisal and repair estimate,” I said when the watchmaker had asked me how he could help. I handed him the watch. It felt a little strange to let someone else handle it. I wondered if Dad had felt like this when he gave it to me.
“Well, this is pretty. Some nice engravings on the case and cover. It’s kind of a half-hunter case. It isn’t hinged in back. Still a pretty piece,” he mused as he fastened a jeweler’s loupe in his right eye. He examined the case carefully, trying to twist it a little. “Hmm. How old? You know?”
“My dad said it was given to him in 1979,” I said.
“A lot older than that, I’d say.”
He finally got around to opening the cover and looking at the face. He puzzled over it, tilting the watch one way and another. He examined the face through his loupe.
“No watchmaker mark on either the face, or the back, or inside the cover. It’s very unusual. I’d have to say this isn’t actually a watch at all,” he finally said.
“What is it?”
“Hard to say. I don’t recall ever seeing anything quite like this. It’s almost as if it was designed by someone who didn’t really know anything much about watches but had a good eye for jewelry. A piece of artwork, maybe.”
“What do you mean?”
“Start around the outside of the face,” he said. “It looks like roman numerals, but there are only ten, not twelve. Inside that is a row of zodiac signs. See how they don’t line up with the outer ring? There are twelve signs of the zodiac and on a regular watch, they’d line up with the hours. Then we have moons. There are thirteen lunar months in a year, and I count thirteen moon symbols.”