Maybe in Another Life

by Taylor Jenkins Reid

There is another version of you out there, created the second the quarter flipped, who saw it come up tails. This is happening every second of every day. The world is splitting further and further into an infinite number of parallel universes where everything that could happen is happening. This is completely plausible, by the way. It’s a legitimate interpretation of quantum mechanics. It’s entirely possible that every time we make a decision, there is a version of us out there somewhere who made a different choice.

An infinite number of versions of ourselves are living out the consequences of every single possibility in our lives. What I’m getting at here is that I know there may be universes out there where I made different choices that led me somewhere else, led me to someone else.” He looks at Gabby. “An...

“Well, I’m sure I’ll be seeing you,” I say. “Some way or another.” “Yeah,” he says. “Or maybe in another life.”

If there are an infinite number of universes, I don’t know how I got so lucky as to end up in this one. Maybe there are other lives for me out there, but I can’t imagine being as happy in any of them as I am right now, today. I have to think that while I may exist in other universes, none is as good as this.

“Do you think that theory is true?” I ask Henry. “Do you think there are versions of us out there who never met?”

“But no, this universe is OK with me.” “You sure? We can try to defy space and time and go find another for you.”

Yeah,” I say. “I think I’ll stay.” “OK,” he says, kissing me. “Let me know if you change your mind.”

“I think I thought maybe, too,” I say. “Just didn’t work out that way, I guess,” he says. “I guess not.”

“If Jesse’s theory is right, about the universes, maybe there’s one out there where we figured out a way to make it work.” Ethan laughs. “Yeah,” he says. “Maybe.” He lifts his pie as if to make a toast. I lift my cheesecake to meet it. “Maybe in another life,” he says.