"Tell me you love me."
The rapid chopping of the vegetable knife pounded to a stop, and my wife turned around, her eyebrows shooting up like twin rockets. Her eyes, electrifying blue and rimmed with a dazed ring of gray, stared into me. Time scraped slowly across the floor like a man on death row, trying to delay his final sentence. And then she spoke,"Logan." She sighed, placed her hands on her lips. "We've already talked about this."
"I don't care if you don't mean it, Holly. Just say to me: 'I love you'."
But her lips refused to form the words, and for me, that was the final straw.
***
As the merciful summer sun sank down in the west, the skies burned with color.
I stood at the edge of Portal #7, my heart hammering to the baseline of an old 2050s metal rock song.
Could I really do this? I thought, peering into the purple abyss below--if I stared long enough, focused hard enough, I could start to make out shapes, hear sounds.
After jumping into Portal #7, there was a good chance that I would never be able to return. That was why most people didn't come to the Portal Station, even if they could afford a ticket. Even if a new life could be arranged for them in the other world.
Again, I asked myself: Could I really leave Holly behind in this universe and hop into another?
I drew in a deep breath, slowly let it back out.
On the exhale, the memory of the conversation between Holly and I flashed back into my mind. Her, standing at the kitchen counter, saying nothing. Me, sitting at the breakfast table, heart shattering.
A tear slid down my face as I realized: she would never love me. At least not in this universe.
I might as well fill a dead Logan Scott's shoes. I had read Universe #7's profile for Holly, read it so many times that every line seemed like it was branded into my brain. It hurt to say this, but she transcended my Holly in every aspect of life.
And so, without another moment's hesitation, I closed my eyes and jumped.
***
"I now pronounce you man and wife," the priest says. "You may kiss the bride."
I lift the wedding veil, and underneath I find Holly. Beautiful, wonderful Holly.
A smile spreads over my face, though I am not really sure why, staring at the tears sliding down my soon-to-be wife's face, racing the mascara to her chin.
My chest tightens, my palms sweat, because I know that the waterfall blinding Holly's eyes isn't created by joy, but an admittance of defeat.
I lean down to kiss her, hoping to assure her of this decision, hoping to express in this kiss my unending love for her.
But when our lips touch, I still feel as if something is missing. It seems that the woman who used to be crazy about me has disappeared, replaced by this somber young woman instead.
It hurts to be the man that Holly marries simply because her first choice changed his mind.
It hurts to be the alternative.
"Holly," I whispered, and my eyes flew open.
Taking in deep gulps of fresh air, wiping the film of sweat from my forehead, I glanced around the room I had awoken in.
It was our master bedroom, decorated just as it had been back in Universe #3, my universe. The forest green drapes covering the ceiling-to-floor windows to my right. The plasma TV hung on the wall, right above the dresser.
The framed pictures on the nightstand, however, I had never seen before. The one that caught my attention was the picture in the middle. Inside, Holly and I sat at a bench, staring into each other's eyes, smiling for no one but ourselves.
In small sweeps, the smoke began to clear out of my head.
I pulled back the covers of the bed I lie in, climbed out. A shiver traveled up through me--the wood floor felt cold under my feet's touch.
But I took no more than two steps toward the door when it slid open from the other side, and a woman appeared.
A phantom gust of wind slammed into my chest, robbing me of words as I watched a smile stretch Holly's lips.
I never knew that the muscles in her face were so strong, that her smile could look so beautiful.
"Logan, you're back," she said, leaping into my open embrace, wrapping her slight arms around my neck.
I could feel her breath against the side of my head, closer than I had ever felt before. She leaned up and whispered into my ear, "I thought I'd lost you forever."
My hold on Holly's waist tightened. "I would never leave you."
Rocking her back and forth, I could smell the same flower scent on her, feel the soft silkiness of her hair against my face.
"Logan," Holly said. "I love you."
Now I could hardly breathe.
All of a sudden, thoughts of the past began to seep into me again. Standing there, once again holding the woman that I loved, I recalled all the times she had pushed me away, remembered all the countless night I had stayed awake, wondering why I continued to love Holly the way I did. Unquestioning. Unwavering.
The answer suddenly struck me like a bolt from the blue, and I now knew what I had to do in order to keep this Holly in love with me forever.
"Get off me," I said, shrugging her arms from my shoulders. "I need a shower."
Holly stumbled back a few steps, as if I had slapped her. She paused, her eyes blinking.
Finally, as I walked toward the bathroom, I heard her voice again. "I'll get you a towel from the laundry room."
"Then it had better be nice and warm."
I felt a familiar feeling of pain knife through me as I stepped into the shower, touched the ON button.
It ached to wound Holly like this. In fact, if I had been given a choice, I would have opted to hurt myself instead. In a heartbeat.
But I knew that this kind of hurt was necessary--maybe even good for her.
In time, she would learn to numb her heart against the pain.
In time, she would come to understand the scar I wore on my heart.
In time, she would love me to the point of insanity.
– Shelly Li