Her friend regarded her a moment, tilting her head to the side. “But would you rather not prefer alifetimeof magic?”
Belle snorted. “A lifetime of magic does not exist, at least not for Simon and me.”
“The decision is yours to make Belle, but be certain it is the right one. Magic, love, life, it is what we choose to make of it and you are choosing to make nothing.”
In other words, Belle should not pass up a brilliant opportunity to create magic for concerns that ultimately may not matter.
How simple it appeared!
How simple it was not.
“You are too wise,” Belle muttered against the rim of her glass.
“Do not tell my husband that, he believes he’s the smartest of us.”
Belle chuckled, staring into the golden liquid swirling beneath her fingers.
She supposed life consisted of a series of risks taken and not taken. One could no more measure the outcome than one could predict the consequences. Marrying Simon certainly counted as a risk, but then so did remaining unmarried and continuing on her path of lonely existence. The question was which consequence could she live with.
And that, Belle truly did not know.
