36
After another couple of days, it’s time for Liam to head back to New York.
I am torn about his departure for many reasons, one of which is that I’m afraid I won’t ever see him again—in this life or
in my dreams. Plus, I have to keep my promise. The moment he leaves, I’m telling Ben the truth.
Liam stops by the condo to say goodbye and tells me when to expect the article. I tell Ben I’m going to walk him down to say
goodbye, and we ride the elevator silently.
A thousand thoughts ravage my mind as we step onto the curb. His rental car is already there, his bags in the trunk. He unlocks
the car and opens the driver’s side door. The past and present mingle. My what-if life blends with this one. In both realities,
there’s so much regret, so much I feel is still unsaid. How can I let him go without really telling him how I feel? I know
this is a door firmly closing, but I have to know at least one thing in order to put all of this to bed for good.
“What do you think would have happened if I hadn’t left Brooklyn?” I ask. It’s an unfair question, but I ask it anyway because I have to know.
He doesn’t ask what I mean. He taps the keys into his open palm. “Do you really want me to answer that?” His eyes flick painfully
over my face. But I only nod. “Okay,” he sighs. “Well.” He leans casually against the car and crosses his arms. “I think we
would still be together. I think you’d be a successful artist. I think we’d be happy.” He stares at his toes, not daring to
lock eyes with mine.
It takes everything in me not to tell him that he’s mostly right, that I’ve seen us and that I wish there was a parallel universe
where both realities could exist. Before I can say anything else, Liam steps forward and gently cups my face in his free hand.
His touch nearly takes my breath away. The heat of his palm ignites something like wildfire in my chest. I fold my hand over
his, both of us gazing deeply into each other’s eyes. I want to say so much. I want to tell him what he meant to me then and
what he means to me now. I want to tell him all about our fictional life. But I can’t, because it’s fair to no one. Finally,
I turn my head, kiss his hand, then drop it and take a step back. He’s breathing hard, looking at his hand, then back at me
like he could devour me, but I break the spell before he can do anything we’ll both regret.
“I have a favor to ask.”
“Anything,” he responds, his voice husky.
“This feature. I know you’re here for me and the gallery, but is there a way you could make it more about Ben instead?”
He considers my request, clearly confused. “What do you mean?”
To my surprise, Ben and Liam have become fast friends these last few days in this new, altered reality, too, and Ben has spent more time with him than I have. They’ve done brunch and taken walks and have had endless conversations. Liam even convinced Ben to take him to his music studio, which he rarely uses anymore. “I feel like his story is wildly more interesting than mine for obvious reasons,” I explain. Especially if he lives , I almost add but don’t. “Is that even remotely possible?”
“Do you mean like a tribute?”
“Yes,” I say. “Exactly like that.”
He considers the request, though I realize it’s probably up to his boss, not him. Finally, he nods. “I spent some quality
time with Ben, but I’d have to look through all my notes. I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thank you,” I say.
He opens his rental car door and then offers me a slow smile. “Maybe I’ll see you in the next life, Harper.” He waves as he
gets into the car. I stand there, my arms studded with gooseflesh as I contemplate his words. Was that a nod to our other
life, or was that just a casual line? I stand there until the taillights snake right, and I try not to feel the black hole
widening in my chest. In many ways, though, it feels like closure I’ve never gotten. Now I can finally, completely focus on
the present.
Back in the apartment, Ben stands on the balcony, resting his forearms on the rail.
“He’s gone.” I freeze when I see the look on Ben’s face as he turns. I realize, foolishly, that from this vantage point, he
probably saw that entire exchange.
“Anything you want to tell me?” he asks.
I open my mouth, then close it. I knew this conversation was coming, but I still don’t want to have it. Not when he’s feeling
better. Not when Liam is already gone and I feel like I finally have some closure. “I can explain.”
He looks as if I’ve punched him. “Explain what?”
I motion to the chaise, and he sits carefully while I gather the words. “It’s a bit complicated.” Even as I say the words,
I wonder if that’s true. What’s so complicated about falling in love and then being so afraid of those emotions that you screw
it all up? I don’t know how to describe what we were. But I try. I tell him about our time in Brooklyn, about all that happened
in just seven days. “I was young and threw it all away before my career or a relationship could really begin. So it was a
shock, seeing him here like this. It caught me completely off guard.”
To my surprise, Ben begins to laugh, but it is a sad, hollow sound. “Harper, if that’s not fate, then I don’t know what is.”
“What do you mean?”
He motions to our apartment. “I come up with this idea for you to fall in love with someone else and then the journalist who
shows up to interview you is the one who got away? You can’t write that.” He drops his head in his hands and then lifts it
again. “There’s a reason this happened.”
I massage my temples and sigh. Part of me hoped his stupid idea hadn’t carried over to this version of our lives. That I’d
changed that wish in the other time line. “This isn’t some rom-com, Ben. This is my life. I am married to you . I love you . I choose you with my whole heart. That’s just my past, and I’m sharing it with you now because it feels important, but it also has no
bearing on our present or future.”
His foot taps rapidly as he contemplates what to say. “Do you still have feelings for him?”
It’s the one question I wish he wouldn’t ask, because I can’t lie. I’m silent long enough that he knows the answer must be complicated. He nods, crossing his arms. “Well, you’re right. This sucks. My idea was stupid, I’m stupid, and I do want you all for myself. There. You win.”
I smile, in spite of the situation. “See? I told you that you weren’t that evolved.”
“You should pursue it,” he finally says, looking at me. “After I’m gone. He’s a good guy.” His voice cracks as he says it.
“I don’t need to make plans for when you’re gone,” I reply. “Because you’re going to be fine.”
“You don’t know that, Harp.”
“I do know that, Ben.” I can’t tell him how I know, but I do. I’ve started to realize that this must be the lesson I am supposed
to learn. That the reason I was thrust into that strange time warp was to show me that he is going to be okay. That miracles
do happen. That in the end, he lives.
Instead of responding, Ben stands and lets himself back into the condo. I follow, but he’s swiping his keys from the island
and heading toward the front door.
“Where are you going?” I ask.
“Out,” he says, shutting the door quickly behind him.
I stand there alone, staring after him, wondering how I’ve managed to so royally screw everything up.