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Liz has complete faith it exists. Colton does not.

Unlike Liz, Colton and I believe that trying to find a “compatible partner” after being with your soul mate is a shit idea.

I’d consider finding a compatible partner if I had never found Arella at all.

It’s easier to settle for less when you’ve never had the best.

Now that I know what true happiness feels like, having anything less is like trying to use spotty dial-up that drops every two seconds after using high-speed Wi-Fi my whole life.

It’s just unacceptable. Can it work? Sure, but it’ll take a lot of effort, waiting, and frustration to get what I want.

The whole time, I’ll be wishing I had high-speed Internet instead.

“Somehow,” I say, “we came right back to talking about me.”

“That’s because you’re more interesting to talk about than I am. Not everyone comes from an alternate universe.”

I cock my head at her. “Huh?”

“You know, a world like this one, but not. It’s Javina’s explanation for how you know so much about me. At first, I thought she sounded nuts, but the idea has grown on me.”

I blink at her as I attempt to grasp the concept of alternate universes. “What’s Javina’s explanation for how I got here?”

“You fell through a portal.”

I chuckle at how nonchalantly she said that. “And what’s her explanation for why there aren’t two Trey Grants walking around?”

“The Trey Grant from this universe is still in prison. Basically, you just took his place.”

“I see.” From Arella’s point of view, I guess this theory makes sense. “Do you think Javina can show me where that portal is? I’m ready to return to my own world now.”

“I’m sure Alterella misses you.”

“Alterella?”

She gives me a moment to put it together.

Once it clicks, I laugh. “That’s clever. Who came up with that?”

“Javina, of course. I’m not that witty.”

Alterella. I repeat the name in my head a few times. It rolls off the tongue nicely. “So what you’re saying is that there’s an alternate version of you out there somewhere?”

“Yeah, and that’s the version of me who’s your girlfriend. She looks, talks, and acts exactly like me, which explains why you mistook me for her. She’s probably at home right now, wondering where you’ve been this whole time.”

The idea that a version of Arella could be out there somewhere, waiting for me, doesn’t sit right. I don’t like the thought of making her wonder if I’ll ever come back for her or wonder if the reason why I didn’t is because I stopped loving her. I couldn’t stop, even if I tried.

“Well,” I huff, “it’s been over two and a half years. I hope she’s quit waiting by now.”

“Don’t you want her to wait for you?”

“Fuck no. I want her to be happy, and waiting around for someone who’s not coming is not happiness. Sounds like hell to me.” I would know. I’m doing it.

Arella squints at me like she can’t understand why I’d feel that way. “You’d rather she moved on with someone else than wait around for you?”

“If that’s what makes her happy, yes.”

“But what about you? What about your happiness?”

I shrug and pretend like the dark cavity in my chest isn’t throbbing at all. “My happiness doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it does. Everyone deserves to be happy.”

It’s been so long since I’ve felt happy, I don’t even remember what it feels like. “I’d rather she be happy than me.”

“Why can’t you both be happy?”

“Because that’s not how the world works. Somebody once told me that when you love someone, you put their happiness before your own. I’m more than willing to do that for her.” For you.

“Did you hear that line from my grammy? She says that to me all the time.”

“Nah, I heard it from Alterella.”

She erupts with laughter. “Oh my god. I can’t believe you actually used that name.”

For the next two hours, we sit on her blanket and talk while the sun sets. She makes me smile so many times, I lose count. The achy heaviness in my chest feels lighter, and I don’t think about getting drunk once.

Eventually, Arella glances at the time on her phone and tells me it’s time for her to go. I fake a smile to hide the way my stomach sinks and my throat goes dry.

“Could I walk you to your car?” I ask, trying not to sound as hopeful as I feel. I want as much time with her as I can get.

“Sure.” If she’s excited about the idea, she doesn’t show it. She doesn’t sound repulsed either. That’s good, I guess.

I help her fold up her blanket, then together, we head through the dark woods.

When we reach her car parked behind my motorcycle, she leans her back against the driver’s door and looks up at me. “You wanna know something weird I’ve been thinking about lately?”

I want to know everything you think about. “Sure.”

“Apparently, when I bought this car, I paid for it in full—in cash.”

“What’s weird about that?”

“I don’t remember doing that. And with my income, I could never afford a vehicle this nice, nor would I ever have enough in the bank to pay for it in full.”

A lump forms in my throat because it’s not like I can tell her that the car came from me.

She wants to believe that I came from another universe.

If that belief is what made her feel comfortable enough to stick around and have a two-and-a-half-hour conversation with me, then I’m gonna roll with it.

“Maybe Caleb helped pay for your car,” I say, because I’d rather give him the credit than burst this bubble of make-believe we have.

“I’ve asked him about it. He doesn’t remember doing so, nor does he have the income to.”

“Maybe your grandparents lent you some money for the car.” I’m grasping at straws now.

“They can’t afford anything this nice either.” She looks me square in the eyes. “You know who can, though? A person who has enough money to buy things like penthouses and weekly plane rides across the country.”

She gives me a moment to respond, but I don’t. If I admit that I bought her this car, it’ll ruin the vibe we’ve created. Plus, she didn’t like that I bought her this car when she loved me. How will she feel about it now, when she doesn’t love me at all?

“I had a great time with you,” I say as an attempt to change the subject.

At first, she stares at me, probably debating whether or not to force an answer out of me. Then she relents and offers up a tender smile. “This was fun. I’m glad we ran into each other.”

I take a step back toward the woods. “Drive home safe.”

She unlocks her car and grips the door handle. “You too. I mean, you’re flying, but you know. Just get home safe.”

“Thanks.” This should be when I turn and walk away, but I don’t. I can’t. Not while she’s still here and I can still look at her.

I take another step back as she opens the door and tosses her blanket onto the passenger seat. Then she glances back up at me. “Trey?”

I lock eyes with her as my ears throw a confetti party from hearing her say my name. “Yeah?”

“Thank you for the car.”

My stare tells her a silent you’re welcome , then I take another step back and wave.

Without another word, she plops behind the wheel and starts the engine. I stare at her red taillights going down the road until she turns the corner and disappears from my sight.

Back at the tree, I flop onto the grass and gaze up at the stars. I missed my flight, but I don’t care. I’m so high off joy right now, I feel like I’m floating on a cloud. Missing my flight was worth it.