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The evening was settling around her, as Reagan sat on the porch. Lent back in a rocking chair. Rolling landscape all around, and faint music drifting from the open kitchen door.
Reagan pushed herself up and out of the seat, standing on the wooden boards to lean against the wall of the house.
The sunset spread over her face as she squinted to look down the path, Ron was making his way towards her, two plastic bags clutched in his hands.
He was walking through knee length grass which brushed his legs from either side, face split with a wide grin.
“I got takeout!” He yelled across the lawn.
“I can see.” She replied with a laugh at his excitement, “Let me just grab some cutlery and we can eat.”
“You want to eat it out here?” He asked, leaning against post on top of the steps.
“The view’s pretty.” Reagan replied simply.
“Yeah I guess the sunset is pretty nice, I was looking at it on the drive back.” Ron agreed. Reagan smiled at his grin, he seemed so happy now.
They kissed quickly, before moving apart so Ron could finally place the bags down.
Reagan slipped through the door, hinges creaking in protest as it was pushed fully open.
“You want anything to drink?” She called back through the door, shutting off the radio as she passed.
There was a pause as Ron considered before replying.
“We got any wine open?” He asked at last.
“Yeah, there’s something in the fridge I think.” She answered, opening the door and grabbing a bottle of red before turning to the cupboard for some glasses.
Within a minute, Reagan emerged with two forks, a pair of wine glasses and the half empty bottle balanced in her arms.
Once she was back outside, Reagan found herself taking in all the small details; the stubble on his face; the way he carefully unpacked the bags setting out the boxes of Chinese food for them; his smile, when he turned to look at her.
She sat down and crossed her legs, settling down next to him, close enough that their arms brushed when they started to eat (her favourite order).
“You know,” she paused to chew before continuing, “ this reminds me of MIT, I ordered in a lot because I didn’t know how to cook and-“
“didn’t?” Ron questioned lightheartedly.
“Okay don’t.” Reagan corrected with a slight eye roll.
“Anyway, half the time they wouldn’t let me into the cafeteria -cause they thought I was someone’s younger sister- so I’d have to order in a lot.”
“You were so little it’s crazy.” Ron said, sympathy sitting in his eyes.
“Yeah, it was lonely but,” she paused swallowing, “now I have you - and your cooking isn’t half bad so it all worked out.” She finished blinking furiously to clear her vision before he noticed.
Ron hummed in agreement, leaning closer to her. They lapsed into silence watching the sun sink into the horizon, the promise of tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow.
Together.
“I know things were hard for a while, but look.” He glanced away from her to the sky (pinks and blues coating the horizon), then back again.
“We’re here, and everything’s okay now.” Their hands met and, for once, eye contact wasn’t the suffocating balancing act of too much or too little.
It felt like home.
“I love you so much and I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.” Ron told her, as her head drifted to rest on his shoulder.
“Can I-I-“ Ron tried to continue as his head jerked left twice rapidly, voice pitching high in parallel a series of clicks, distorting the remains of his sentence into an illegible clatter.
The world around flashed bright, then dark, rippling grass turning into violent spin of green. The porch warping and falling away around her, out of place colours and static polluting the view.
Reagan’s stomach flipped with the distortion.
Instantly, she was laying back in the rocking chair, sat on the porch looking out over the field.
The landscape settled back into place like water in the aftermath of storm draining back into the ocean.
The field lay spread out in front of her again, lit by the first strokes of sunset.
A figure in the distance was beginning to wind up the path, a white plastic bag of Chinese takeout caught in each arm. Headed to another Reagan resting on their porch, quiet music drifting out from the kitchen.
“I love you too Ron.” Reagan whispered unheard into the summer evening.
She turned off the hologram, scenery fading out from around her.
In the lab, Reagan sat on the floor, leant against the cool grey tiles, reality simulator strewn haphazardly next to her, trailing cable leading to the wall.
She took another swig from the nearly empty bottle of cheap wine.
This was one of their best time lines -three weeks into a life at Appleton - which crashed and burnt in five months.
Reagan sniffed, letting her tears finally spill down her face into the harsh white light.
It would be fine she assured herself, because Ron was happy. And, for now, that would just have to be enough.