The Love of Her Lives: A BRAND NEW unforgettable and utterly emotional summer romance (Must-read Rom

June, this year

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Countless billions of stars.

Each one of them with the potential to give life to planets, just as our own Sun gives life to Earth. An infinite universe, with infinite possible solar systems and, within them, infinite life forms. Unending versions of ourselves, over and over again, in every possible permutation of our lives.

Infinite possibilities . . .

Above me, the inky sky twinkles with shimmering pinpricks of light — although nowhere near as many as if I were outside the city. It’s a clear, warm night, but Chicago’s light pollution isn’t helping with my multiverse musings.

Infinite possibilities . . . Infinite lives . . .

Surely there’s a killer slogan for our new sportswear account in there somewhere.

Live your best life, maybe? Nah... a bit too cliché. Something an influencer would say. For this campaign, it has to be more philosophical. Cerebral.

I place my empty champagne glass on the high-top table beside me, which is wobbling a little on the uneven patio tiles, and type “Infinite possibilities” and “Infinite lives” into the Notes app on my cellphone. Twenty stories below the glass barrier I’m leaning against, the evening traffic is now relatively quiet. It’s nearly eleven, and our agency’s summer party is gradually winding down.

I turn back to face the sliding doors that lead into our office lounge, and Stephen is pushing through them, two fresh flutes of champagne in hand. He saunters towards me with a wry smile on his face and hands me a glass.

“Hey, Millie. I saw you were dry, which seemed like a desperate situation in need of being immediately rectified.” He looks up, past the tips of the tall buildings surrounding our roof terrace. “Finding inspiration in the cosmos? The little of it we can see from here.” He takes a swig out of his glass. “Man, I can’t wait to get out camping next weekend and do some real stargazing.”

I take a sip of my own drink, and the bubbles effervesce like a galaxy on my tongue. Our boss, Erin, went all out with the vintage champagne for tonight. I certainly don’t need another glass, as the stars above are starting to blur a little, but I can’t turn down time with Stephen.

Anything for time with Stephen.

Even though I know that’s not good for me. Even though I wish he wasn’t what I want.

“That sounds great. I was just thinking some more about a slogan for Vici. They seemed really into our conversation earlier about string theory. I think there might be something there, you know, for the new tagline?” I shrug. “Something about infinite possibilities, or infinite chances. Like, somewhere in the multiverse, there’s a version of your life where you’ve achieved everything you want, including being an awesome athlete or whatever — and with Vici, you can make this life that version. Or... something.”

Stephen nods, still gazing upward, then turns his face down to me. He pushes his black-framed glasses up his nose and smiles. His irises, usually a vivid blue that contrasts with his soft-brown hair, are a deep slate in this low, artificial light. “I love it. Millie MacKenzie strikes again. Yeah, let’s brainstorm some phrases tomorrow. Hangovers allowing.”

I laugh, then pause for a second as a memory floods over me. “You know, this all reminds me of when we first met — not at work, I mean way back at Northwestern’s Orientation Week, when you tried to get me to join the Astrophysics Society. Remember? I really wanted to sit around talking string theory and infinite universes with you and all your nerd buddies, but the meetings clashed with the a cappella group I joined.”

He grins again, wider this time, and a thousand stars explode in my chest.

“The Northwestern Notables! How could I ever forget you guys? You were awesome. Oh yeah. ‘Maria’...” He croons a couple of lines from the West Side Story musical we performed, more than nine years and a lifetime ago now.

In the gleam of the patio string lighting, his wedding band glints, as shiny as it was three years back when it was brand new. The stars inside me dim a little.

“Yeah, that group was a lot of fun,” I reply. “It’s too bad the clubs met on the same night, though. I would’ve liked to have joined both — then we probably would’ve been friends at Northwestern. Still... we got to know each other here, so no harm done, right?”

Stephen’s smile wavers. “I guess.” He pauses a moment. “But I wonder what might have been different if we’d been friends earlier? Hung out at Northwestern, you know?”

My stomach flutters a little. “I mean . . . I don’t know what would’ve changed . . .”

That’s a flat-out lie.

I know exactly what would’ve happened if we’d both been single when we’d first gotten to know each other. I just know it’s wrong to even think it, let alone say it out loud to a married man.

I shake my head. “Anyways, it doesn’t matter. We met at work later, and still became friends, so it’s all good. And I’m sure you wouldn’t have wanted your life to go any other way. You’ve got a great career, a lovely home, you’re married, two little kids and another on the way — and you’re happy, right? You and Eve?”

He frowns slightly at his drink, then nods, just once. “We’re good, sure. It’s hard with young kids, because they’re monsters who pretty much ruin your life, and now Eve is pregnant again and constantly mad at me about her swollen ankles and not being able to run around after the kids. But we’re mostly fine.” He screws up his nose. “And we know we’re very lucky. I just can’t help sometimes thinking about all the what-ifs, you know? Would life have been even better if I’d made this choice, or that choice? If I had chosen Sciences instead of Communications, and gone into research, would that be more fulfilling for me than marketing? If I’d gone into the family business with my dad, would my relationship with him be better? And, you know, about a gazillion other possible life choices.”

He lifts his eyes to me, and in them, I can immediately see he’s thinking about another what-if. The same one I wrestle with every day.

What if Stephen had persuaded me to join the astrophysics club that day? What if we had known each other first?

I smile at him, a little sadly. “I get it. I think about the what-ifs of life, too — of course I do. Everyone does, I think. But what good does it do? You have a good life with Eve and the kids, you enjoy your job most of the time, you have a beautiful home, you have your faith... Just take the win. I mean, of all the infinite possible life paths you might have gone down, you have a pretty good one. Christ, it could be a lot worse.” I stop myself. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to blaspheme. I know you hate that.” Of the many things Stephen and I have in common, religious belief is not one of them.

Stephen waves the comment away. “That’s okay. You’re right, I shouldn’t be dwelling on this.” He taps on the side of his champagne flute. “I’ve had too much of this stuff. Does me no good.” He takes a deep breath, visibly pulling himself together. “And what about you, Millie Mac? You living a good version of all your possible lives? I mean, I know we see each other every day, but I don’t know if I’ve ever really asked... Are you happy?”

I huff out a slightly hollow chuckle. “Well, I’m lucky in many ways, I guess. Love my job, love my little studio apartment, which is a frickin’ steal on the rent. I’ve got the most wonderful best friend in the world, and a few other really amazing people in my life.” I shrug, and look out at the city. “But some stuff... isn’t so good. My relationship with either of my folks is not the greatest, as you know. I mean, it’s tough being an only child of a divorced couple. I haven’t spoken to Dad in over a year, and I rarely see my flake of a mother. And I lost the best imaginable surrogate parents. I told you about them, I think, after too much gin at the spring retreat. They died in an awful, totally preventable accident.”

He nods, with a sad smile. “I know that’s tough for you to talk about.”

Shaking my head to stop the tears of regret forming, I turn back to him. His side-lit face, a little long and geeky, has become so beautiful to me.

“Yeah, it really is. And then, of course, there’s my love life, which is a total trainwreck. I’m thirty years old, I’ve only had a couple of short, unsuccessful relationships, because I’m always attracted to the wrong men — courtesy of Mom, no doubt. And I don’t know if my eye-wateringly expensive therapy is even helping. So, my life is far from perfect. But, again...” I sigh, “it could be an awful lot worse. I mean, I’m not a crack addict on the streets.”

I look back up to the night sky, and Stephen follows my gaze.

“Do you really think there are all those possible universes, with all the different versions of our lives playing out?” he asks, his voice barely above a murmur.

I take in a big lungful of night air. “I don’t know. It’s an awfully infinite universe. So... maybe?”

And if that’s true, then maybe somewhere out there, beyond the stars... or somewhere else entirely... somewhere Stephen and I are together. We met first, we took that path, and it’s him and me.

But not in this life. Not for me.

Stephen lifts his glass for me to clink against. “Well, then, Millie Mac. Here’s to the best version of all our possible lives.”

I gently tap my flute against his, and a tiny bell rings out.

“To the version where we’re both incandescently happy,” I reply, as my heart shatters into a billion pieces.