Somewhere in the Multiverse
by Lameese Hassen
“Jess?”
His voice echoes, and feels like a distant dream. I’ve never heard his voice before, not until now. It feels familiar, like slipping into sleep. I pull open my plastered-shut eyes. My breath shakes and my arms tremble.
Cradled against my chest is Lyla, who’s sound asleep. Her little eyes don’t even flutter. She’s unscathed, unharmed. Still fresh as though she came out the womb moments ago, even though it’s only been a month. I take my eyes off my child, and they peer up at the stranger. I’m in shock. That much I know. Simon chased after me. I thought he’d kill me if I didn’t get away. I grabbed Lyla, ran, and slammed the door shut behind me.
His warm brown eyes meet mine. They’re welling, and his hands shake. He walks slowly over to me. He tries to stroke my cheek, but I flinch back into the door behind me. His face flashes with regret, with hurt. I probably wouldn’t have backed away if Simon hadn’t tried to wrap his arms around my neck. I’m too startled, too fragile right now, even though this phenomenon isn’t new to me.
“How is this possible?” he whispers.
* * *
It all started on my thirteenth birthday. I blew out the candles. My parents got into another big fight, where I was certain they were going to kill one another. I hid behind the couch. When the yelling and violence got too loud, I ran to my room. I slammed the door shut and tried to catch my breath.
I found myself in a park, late at night. I was with a girl who claimed to be my best friend. I’d never seen her in my life. I thought I was dreaming, that I was going crazy and hallucinating. But the more I talked to her, the more I realized something was off about the world.
The dates were wrong. Events wouldn’t have taken place, like certain elections, or I’d be in a world where JFK had not died. I’d be gone a day, tops. Eventually, when I tugged on another door and entered another room, I’d be back to my life. But I was never really sure when I’d return home.
I’d get scared. I’d feel overwhelmed. I’d walk into another room or close a door shut, and I’d be somewhere else. Another time, another place. Never in the same lifetime, always in a different one. I don’t know who I am to this man. But whoever I am to him, it’s not real in my world.
What is real is that my husband tried to hurt me, and that I’ve been stuck in this bottomless pit of a marriage for a year. I had a plan. Married by twenty-five, kids by thirty. None of that panned out. Instead, knocked up at twenty-nine after a year of dating and accepted a proposal, and married by thirty.
I don’t regret Lyla. I will never regret Lyla. But I regret meeting Simon every waking moment of my life.
* * *
“Jess?” he asks again, gently. “Is this a dream?”
I don’t know what to say to him. I never know what to say, at first. Until I collect the details of the world I’m in. But this time, Lyla is with me. It’s not about protecting myself. It’s making sure she stays safe.
“You’re dead,” he says simply. “This can’t be real.”
That’s new. I’ve never entered a timeline where I’m dead.
“I’m not the Jess you know,” I say softly. I don’t realize how tightly I cling to Lyla until I see his eyes go down to my arms. I loosen and stroke her back, kissing the top of her head. I finally bring myself to look around the room I’m in. I’m at the entrance of an expansive condo. Leather couches, wooden tables and floors, precious glass decorated the apartment and beautiful paintings I’d wish I’d seen in my own timeline.
I walk slowly past him, Lyla still in my arms. I bounce her as I walk to the windows and look out at the city. It’s night, but so many lights and the Pier is across along Lake Michigan. Chicago. I guess I ended up leaving Michigan for Chicago instead of Brooklyn in this timeline.
I walk over to the mantle and study the pictures. I feel his eyes on me as I look. I stop in my tracks when I see a wedding photo. It’s this man and me. I turn to him. “What’s your name?”
There’s a flash of hurt in his eyes. “You really don’t know who I am?”
“I’d explain, but it would sound crazy.” I sigh, fatigued over the night I’ve had. And of course, this thing that happens to me had to happen now. But maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing. It got me away from Simon. No one ever believed me, so I’d play along with the timeline I was in. But seeing that photo, I know Oscar won’t hurt me. Not with the way he’s looking at me and the photos I see we have up. But then again, photos can be just as deceiving, and my guard is back up.
“I already know,” Oscar says.
“Know what?” I ask.
“The thing that happens. The timeline shift thing.” Oscar waves his hand gently in the air, gesturing over “the thing.”
“I’ve... never told anyone about that,” I say.
“You told me,” Oscar says, giving a small smile. He’s looking down at his feet, bashful.
I finally bring myself to sit on the couch, and he sits on the leather chair that’s a few feet away from me. I see an ashtray littered with cigarettes and nearly empty bottle of Scotch. Olive complexion. Probably Greek. Dark curls. There’s lines around his eyes, that look newly creased. Probably my death, or maybe life in general. Usually, I feel out of sorts when this happens. I still do, given the Simon of it all. But I feel safe around Oscar, in this home that some other version of me clearly built with him.
“What happened?” Oscar asks. He senses the question on my face. “You told me it’d happen when you’d be overwhelmed. You’d disappear for no more than a day. I’d always worry, even though you’d tell me not to. So... what’s overwhelming you?”
I laugh softly. The question of the century. I feel so tired. So defeated. I’ll be gone before he knows it, so I feel no hesitancy in sharing. “I have a husband. His name is Simon. He isn’t great.” I look down at Lyla. “But he gave me her, so I guess he did one thing right.”
Her looks down at his hands. “I don’t like that. That you’re not happy where you’ve come from.”
I like that he doesn’t overreact or get loud. Doesn’t get super protective over this version of me. He gets it. He knows what happens when this happens. He’s heard it before. He just never knew he’d see me again.
“What was she like?” I ask about this timeline’s version of me.
“Magic,” Oscar says quietly.
“What did she do?” I ask.
“A teacher,” Oscar answers.
“Huh,” I click my tongue. “That was always the plan if—”
“If you didn’t end up practicing law,” Oscar finishes my sentence. “You practice law?”
“I do,” I sigh. “And hate it.”
“You should change that when you go back,” Oscar says. “Teaching made you really happy.” He looks down and sighs again. “You were really happy. We were really happy. We always talked about how we never thought we’d be happy. But we found each other.”
He looks up. “It stopped happening for my Jess.”
That surprises me. The way I tilt my head up gives me away.
“You got a lot of help. I got a lot of help. We were both good. It stopped. You were happy, and it stopped.”
I crunch my nose, and stop myself from wanting to cry. I look down at Lyla. “When I go back, that will never be an option. I am forever tethered to him.”
“You can be happy, Jess. You can find a way to be content,” Oscar says. “I saw it firsthand. There’s always a way.”
“It’s a nice thought,” I whisper. Lyla starts to stir in my arms. Her little eyes open. I crush her dark hair and peer into her little brown eyes.
“She looks like you,” Oscar smiles.
“What gives it away?” I ask.
“The dark little curls,” Oscar smiles and walks over and takes a cautious seat next to me. He peers over, still smiling. “The nose.”
“Ass,” I laugh.
“I like your nose,” Oscar says. “I know you hate it.”
“I do,” I say simply. “Too Arab. It’s what gives me away.”
“Still have a Lebanese mom and Italian father?” Oscar asks.
“Are they just as crazy in this timeline?” I ask.
“Of course they are,” Oscar laughs.
“What’s life like in this timeline?” I ask.
Oscar raises his eyebrows.
“Did JFK die?” I ask with a smile.
“Does JFK die in yours?” Oscar asks. He laughs. “Why is that your go-to question in every timeline?”
“Because the first time it happened, I met this girl in a park who said she was my best friend. She said her name was Kennedy. She was named after JFK,” I say.
“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” Oscar says.
“I know,” I agree with a laugh. “And I said, your parents named you after a dead guy? She looked at me confused. She said he was still alive. So, that’s why it’s my go-to question.”
Her lips turn to a frown for a quick moment. “Jess never really told me. She said she’d tell me someday. Guess I’ll never know.”
“Well, you know this Jess’ reason,” I say gently. “Maybe that’s some consolation.”
“In an odd way, it is,” Oscar replies.
“Is this not weird for you?” I ask suddenly.
“It is, and I definitely still think I’m crazy,” Oscars says. “But I never thought you were crazy. I don’t believe in the universe and all that, but... I believed in you. And maybe this is your way of telling me you’re still out there.” But he shakes his head. “But I don’t like knowing you’re out there unhappy. So that’s out.”
“I guess it’s still some kind of closure, no?” I ask.
This thing that happens to me always felt like a curse. I’d be teased with how life could be if I was born in another timeline. Sometimes, it would be worse and suck more than mine. But sometimes it was so good I wish I could never leave. This feels like one of those moments, even though I barely know Oscar. For once, this doesn’t feel like a curse. It feels like a gift, because it feels like a gift to him. He gets to see me one last time before I’m gone forever.
I consider my words for a moment. “Is there anything you wanted to say to her? You could say it to me. It would still mean something.”
Oscar smiles. It’s solemn. “You know everything I’ve ever wanted to tell you. I guess... I just want to say good-bye. And I love you. Always. I hope you knew how much I loved you.”
“I barely know you,” I say, “and I can feel how much you loved that version of me.”
And I know if I were in this timeline, I would have loved him. I’m envious of the Jess that got him. The night I had is finally wearing down of me. I feel it in every inch of my body. And I’m safe here. For now. I don’t know what happens when I go back, but I’ll deal with it then. Maybe Oscar is right. Maybe there’s a way for my life to be better when I get back to my timeline.
“You and Lyla can have the room,” Oscar says, noticing my fatigue. “I’ll sleep out here. And then—”
“When I walk out of the room tomorrow or whenever, I’ll be gone,” I say knowingly.
He nods. I see him fight back tears. I get up, and he does, too. He’s surprised when I lean into his chest using my side, and he wraps his arms around me. He gives me the hug he wishes he could have given his Jess.
“Thank you,” Oscar whispers, biting back his tears.
I walk into the bedroom and sink into the kingsize bed. I watch Lyla as she sleeps, and then I drift off into sleep.
* * *
The next morning, I pull myself out of bed and pick up Lyla, who’s still fast asleep. I take a deep breath and close my eyes as I step through the doorframe. I keep them closed, afraid of seeing Simon again. Seeing the miserable life I’ve had. But when I open my eyes, I’m still in Oscar’s apartment. He’s surprised to see me. We spend the day together, prepared for when I step into another room or close a door, I’ll be gone.
But the day passes, and I’m still there with Oscar and Lyla.
Hours turn into days. Days turn into weeks. Weeks turn into months.
And months turn into years.
I never open a door or enter another room and find myself in a different timeline. I make myself at home in the new one, and the feeling is gone. The feeling that I’ll end up somewhere else. I’ve built a new life, which isn’t hard. It’s like this timeline absorbs me, and it’s like the Jess everyone knew died but never disappeared.
I’ve found a new home somewhere in the multiverse. I just never thought I’d find it in a person.
Copyright © 2024 by Lameese Hassen
