The End of Time

I’m glad, she said, that at the end of everything, it’s you and me.

There was a pause, there in the dark, where they just…were, next to each other. She wasn’t sure how long the pause was, or even when she had finished speaking, if it had been minutes or hours or lifetimes or an entire age. But then, a sensation like someone brushing her hand, even though there was no hand there.

Me, too.

More silence, and she could tell they were both watching the stars wink out, one by one. She wasn’t afraid. Not here at the end. Not while they were together. She wasn’t excited either. She just felt….peace. More peace than she’d ever felt in her life.

As soon as she thought it, she realized she couldn’t remember anything from her life. Couldn’t remember her name. She made to turn, panicking, but having no body, she couldn’t. Then:

I don’t remember either. But I remember I love you.

Words spoken over eons, across universes, from the beginning of time all the way to the end. Her panic started to subside.

I love you, too. And the thought and feel of it filled her up. Whatever there was to fill.

They watched the last star wink out, and she reached out her hand, found that there was another hand to hold onto, there in the dark, at the end of time. It was enough.