There are approximately ten versions of this earth that Stephen knows you exist in.

In three of those you’re strangers, divided by time and consequence. He changed but
not enough and you stayed longer than you should but a particular delusional alien
and his plans were quite the wake up call. There was no time to be spent in pain.

There are a couple more he doesn’t think about, not by choice at least.

Bad things happen there.

In 1376 and 1838 you’re married to a smiley brunette who makes you laugh. He
remains nameless in Stephen’s head on behalf of stealing a life from him.

He is simple, uncomplicated; everything you wanted. You worked together, fell in

love, had a darling little blue-eyed boy like the fantasy you’d shared with Stephen
late one night. Only this boy got his eyes from your side, an unlikely event, but
like you once told him “Blue runs in my family too.”

You always walk at the brunette’s left, little Odie between you, holding both of
your hands.

These ones he thinks about often.

There is one single reality in which you are together, inseparable and happy
without a worry in the world. He has retired from his duties, all is marvelously at
peace and all he need do is observe.

It is simple and uncomplicated.

Your little boy has his eyes, it cannot be mistaken. You say ‘I love you’ at
breakfast and over an evening cup of tea, make up for the rest of it in casual
affection. You always walk at his right, as you would in every universe you’ve
known each other, and little Dominic likes to hold your hands and swing.

This, of course, is not his reality.