In Any Lifetime

by Marc Guggenheim

“I love you too much,” he told her. “I love you more,” she replied.

They shared a knowing look. An instant of private rapture. The happiest moment of their lives. Neither had any idea this would be her last night on earth.

“What I mean is, any woman would be lucky to have a man willing to search the world for her. Your wife has a man willing to search an infinite number of worlds.”

Jonas turned, and their eyes locked. “I’ll always find you,” he said. “In any multitude. In any lifetime.” The promise felt like a vow.

“I love you,” he said, and he didn’t care if it was too much or too fast. It was, and would always be, the truth. “I love you too much.”

“I’m still figuring out the universe.” “Aren’t we all?”