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“What if the Jesse and June in your book are out there, in a parallel universe, waiting for you to breathe life into their story.”
“I want us to live, June. If the only way we get to do that in the end is in your book, then at least I’ll have the comfort that somewhere, out there, in a parallel universe, we are really making a go of it. And that even though life has roughed us up a bit, we’ve turned it around and made it our bitch.”
“If I die,” I whispered a while later, “I want to go just like this—with you next to me, holding my hand.” June’s lips trembled. But she nodded, making me that silent promise. “Write our story, Junebug. Let our parallel-universe selves live the best lives they can. We deserve to have our happily ever after, even if it’s in another life.”
“We may have lost her in this one, but we’re living in the other one too.” I smiled sadly. “In our parallel universe.”
“Never lose this,” I said when I pulled back. “Never lose this happiness I can see on your face right now. Your purpose, the reason you write, the reason you survived—it makes the world a better place, Junebug.”
“Promise it’ll be you who comes and gets me,” I said. I squeezed his hand twice. “Just like this. So I know it’s you.” Jesse squeezed my hand back, twice, showing me exactly what he would do.
