Between Worlds

Part One: Unicorn

"Justin would rather be in a pool full of men in speedos with stupid beanies than be at home with the kids and me! I never would have let him join his cousin's dumb water polo team if I knew how much he'd like it," exclaimed Cindy, half kidding, half serious. She stirred her latte with more force than necessary. "Maybe if he spent more time at home, he'd be a little more present—a little more loving." She looked across the café table at Janet. "Jan, you're so lucky to be married to a guy like Collin. It's like he's already been a husband before!"

Janet didn't look up from her coffee, trying to hide her smile.

"That's a funny way to put it, but yes. Like every guy, he has his moments… but he's a genuine guy."

"Well, that's the understatement of the century. Let's call a spade a spade. He's a unicorn!" said Marisol, playfully pushing Janet's shoulder. "Seriously, I've never seen a man more present with his kids. And the way he looks at you? Like you hung the moon."

Janet felt warmth rise to her cheeks. "He does try really hard."

"Tries?" Cindy laughed. "Janet, last week I saw him at the grocery store with both kids, and he was singing to Emma in the cart while helping Mason pick out cereal. Who does that?"

"It’s like he’s from another planet!" Marisol whispered, winking.

Part Two: Mixed Scripts

When Janet pulled into the driveway two hours later, she could hear laughter from the backyard. She found Collin on his hands and knees in the grass, Mason and Emma riding on his back like he was a horse.

"Faster, Daddy! Faster!" Emma shrieked with delight.

"I'm going as fast as this old horse can go," Collin protested, making exaggerated neighing sounds.

Mason spotted Janet first. "Mom! Come ride the daddy-horse!"

Collin looked up, his face flushed and happy, grass stains on his knees. "Hey, you're home! How were the girls?"

"Talking about how lucky I am," Janet said, unable to suppress her smile.

"Oh yeah?" He stood, lifting Emma onto his shoulders in one smooth motion. "What'd you tell them?"

"That you have your moments."

"Ouch." He clutched his chest dramatically, making Emma giggle. "Mason, did you hear that? Your mother damned me with faint praise."

"What's 'damned'?" Mason asked.

"A word you shouldn't say," Janet and Collin said in unison, then laughed.

"Come on, Gabby, let's get these two ready for lunch," Collin said, swinging Emma down.

Janet froze. "What did you call me?"

Collin's expression flickered—just for a second. "What? I said Janet."

"No, you said Gabby."

"Did I?" He laughed, but it sounded forced. "Weird. Must've heard it on TV or something. You know how sometimes a word just gets stuck in your head?"

Mason tugged on his father's shirt. "I'm hungry!"

"Right, lunch. Come on, buddy." Collin ruffled Mason's hair and headed toward the house, but Janet caught something in his eyes—a shadow of something she couldn't name.

She let it go. For now.

Part Three: Detergent

Three days later, Janet was folding laundry when the smell hit her—sweet, floral, unmistakably lavender. She only used unscented detergent. Always had. Collin knew she was sensitive to fragrances.

She held his shirt to her nose, inhaling deeply. The scent was unmistakable.

Her hands began to shake.

Gabby.

The name echoed in her mind. Who was Gabby? Where had Collin been wearing these clothes? Her thoughts spiraled into dark possibilities—late nights at the workshop, the weekend he'd said he needed to clear his head, the way he sometimes seemed far away even when he was sitting right next to her.

She tried to stay calm. She'd wait until evening, until the kids were in bed, until she could think clearly.

She lasted until school drop-off.

Part Four: Dual Life

After Mason and Emma climbed out of the car, chattering about their day ahead, Janet's composure shattered. The moment their car doors closed, tears streamed down her face.

"Who is she?" The words came out strangled.

Collin turned to her, alarmed. "What? Janet, what's wrong?"

"Don't lie to me. The laundry detergent. The name. Who is Gabbyl?" Her voice rose, cracking. "Are you cheating on me?"

"No! God, no, Janet—"

"Then explain it! Explain why your clothes smell like someone else's house, why you called me by another woman's name—"

"I can explain." His voice was steady, calm in a way that somehow made it worse. "But not here. Please. Let me show you something."

Through her tears, she saw the earnestness in his face, the pain there. She nodded, unable to speak.

He drove in silence for fifteen minutes, winding up into the hills until they reached a lookout point that overlooked the valley. He parked and turned to face her.

"I've never cheated on you. Not once. But I have been living a lie, and you deserve the truth." He took a deep breath. "Dual Life."

She shook her head, confused.

"It's a wormhole. Between two parallel universes. Time works differently—when I cross over, no time passes here. I switch between my two lives every new moon. The transition is seamless, timeless. But the wormhole is just for me. No one else can go."

Janet stared at him. "Really? You want to be funny right now?"

"I'm not joking." He reached into his pocket and pulled out something small, metallic—a device that looked like nothing she'd ever seen. It pulsed with a faint blue light. "This is my transmitter. In my other universe, this technology is common. Almost everyone uses it."

"Your other universe." Her voice was flat, disbelieving.

"I know how it sounds. But Janet, think about it. I told you I was an only child, that my parents were dead. That was true—in this universe. But I wasn't born here. I came from somewhere else, somewhere where dual life technology exists."

"This is insane."

"I know. But it's true." His eyes pleaded with her to understand. "You asked about Gabriela. She's not—it's not what you think."

"Then what is it?" Janet's voice was small now, afraid of the answer.

"I have another family," he said quietly. "In the other universe. A wife. Kids."

The world tilted. Janet couldn't breathe.

"You left them?" The accusation came out as a whisper. "You abandoned your family to start over with me?"

"No!" He reached for her hand, but she pulled away. "No, Janet, that's not—technically, I started my family with Gabriela first. Then I started my family with you. I didn't leave anyone. The wormhole means I'm never gone from either place."

"Gabriela." The name tasted bitter. "Her name is Gabriela."

"Yes."

"And she does her laundry with lavender detergent."

He nodded miserably.

Janet laughed—a sharp, painful sound. "The girls said you seemed like you'd been a husband before. They have no idea how right they were."

"I'm sorry. I should have told you—"

"When?" she demanded. "When should you have told me? On our first date? 'Hi, I'm from a parallel universe and I'm already married?' Before our wedding? 'By the way, when I'm not here, I'm literally in another dimension with my other wife?'"

"I know there was no good time. I know this is—"

"Does she know about me?"

The question hung in the air.

"Yes," Collin said softly. "Gabriela knows everything. In our universe, dual life is normal. She has one too—she's in a relationship with a woman named Sofia. Gabriela's bisexual, and she actually encouraged me to use dual life, to find someone else. She prays for you and the kids. For all of you."

Janet didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "She prays for me? Your wife in another dimension prays for the woman you're also married to?"

"I know it sounds crazy—"

"It IS crazy!" Janet's voice broke. "Collin, how am I supposed to accept this? You're sleeping with another woman—"

"In a different universe. With different time—"

"It doesn't matter!" Tears streamed down her face. "You have another life. Another wife. Other children. How can I compete with that? How can what we have be real when you're living a completely separate existence?"

"It is real. You are real. This family is real." He took her hands, and this time she didn't pull away. "Janet, I love you. That has never been a lie. Everything I've built with you, everything we are together—it's as real as anything in any universe."

"When do you leave?" she whispered. "When do you go to them?"

"Every new moon. But Janet, you've never noticed because—"

"Because time stops," she finished. "I'm on pause while you're living another life."

The thought made her feel hollow.

“How many other people from different universes are in... this… universe? …now?” Janet squirmed and braced for impact.

Collin fiddled with the volume dial on their mini-van. 

“Just me.”

Part Five: Sawdust

No one ever could or would understand. 

The weeks that followed were the hardest of Janet's life. She moved through her days in a fog, smiling at the kids, functioning, but feeling like she was walking through a world made of glass. Collin was patient, giving her space when she needed it, answering her questions when she could bear to ask them.

Slowly, painfully, she began to accept it. Not because it hurt less, but because the alternative—losing him entirely—hurt more. And she couldn't deny that he was still the same man she'd fallen in love with. Present. Devoted. Real.

Three months passed. Then four. Life settled into something that resembled normal, though Janet sometimes caught herself counting the days until the new moon, wondering if this would be the time he left, even though she'd never know, even though for her he'd never be gone.

She found a strange kind of peace with it.

Then one morning, she woke to find his side of the bed empty.

"Collin?" She checked the bathroom, then padded downstairs. His workshop light was on.

But when she pushed open the door, he wasn't at his workbench carving the rocking chair he'd promised her. Instead, something shimmered in the air above the half-finished wood—a hologram, unstable and flickering.

A woman's face materialized. Dark hair, kind eyes, a smile that trembled with grief.

"Hello, Janet." The woman's voice was soft, accented with something Janet couldn't place.

"My name is Gabriela. I'm so sorry to contact you this way. I have very little time before Collin's transmitter is decommissioned, and I—" Her voice caught. "I needed you to know what happened."

Janet's legs gave out. She sank into Collin's half built rocking chair.

"There was an accident. At the beach. Collin saw someone—a stranger—caught in a riptide. He gave them his surfboard and tried to help them back to shore, but the waves..."

Gabriela's eyes glistened with tears. "He saved them. But the current was too strong. He's gone, Janet. I'm so sorry."

The workshop seemed to spin. This couldn't be real. Collin was just—he was supposed to be—"He loved you so much," Gabriela continued, her words rushing now as the hologram flickered. "He talked about you constantly. About Mason's laugh, about Emma's bedtime stories, about the way you hum when you cook. He said you made him want to be better."

She smiled through her tears. "He told me once that you wrinkle your nose when you're thinking hard about something, and it was his favorite thing in any universe."

Janet pressed her hand to her mouth, trying not to sob.

"Our family in this universe was blessed by the lessons he learned with you. Your patience, your strength, the way you loved him so completely even when he wasn't perfect. He brought that back to us. Thank you for loving him." Gabriela's image began to break apart.

"The wormhole is closing. I won't be able to speak to you again. But I wanted you to know—he was a hero. In both worlds. And I'm grateful I got to share him with someone who appreciated his terrible jokes, his habit of leaving coffee cups everywhere, his way of making everyone feel like they were the most important person in the room..."

The hologram dissolved into static, then vanished.

Janet sat in the silence of the workshop, surrounded by sawdust.