“I know.” He sighed, propping himself up on the bed beside me. “And you know I didn’t form that habit because of you. But when it comes to our marriage...” His gaze was raw with unhidden emotion. “I couldn’t bear to risk losing you. Never again.”
“Not ever.” I held his gaze. “No matter what you want, I swear I won’t hold it against you. Even if it conflicts with my dreams, Iknowwe can sort it out somehow, working together.”
“Well...” His eyes lowered, long eyelashes shadowing his lean brown cheeks. “Ihavehad an idea of my own,” he said. “But if it diminished one of your dreams... I couldn’t bear it if you said yes only because—”
“Wrexham.” I nudged his shoulder gently. “Just tell me!”
He took a deep breath, looking down at the sheets between us. “I’m not like you.” His voice was quiet but steady. “I love magic itself, but I never dreamed of fame and public acclaim as you did. My dreams were exactly what you grew up taking for granted. A family all collected in one place. Enough money for everyone I love to be safe. A home full of people whom I love.”
“And you don’t think you can have that now?” A half-laugh startled out of me. “Look around at this house! What do you think I’ve been designing for us here, if not that?”
As his eyes flashed back to mine, the sheer vulnerability in his expression stopped my breath. “But this school isyourdream,” he said softly. “And you never invited me to share in it. Not even once. I kept hoping that you would, in time, but—”
“Oh, for—!” A half-sob fell from my throat as I sat up straight, staring down at him in disbelief. “Of courseI never asked you to work at Thornfell. How could I? I was afraid you would feel that youhadto agree—and then you’d lose your own future and all of your dreams. You know you’d be slashed from the Great Library’s register of alumni if you worked here—just as I was, and Luton, too. How couldIbe the one to ask you for that?”
He frowned up at me. “But—”
“I want you to have everythingyouwant,” I said firmly. “The fact that this school started as my dream doesn’t mean it has to belong only to me forever. It’s already being shared by all of my students. And do you haveany ideahow badly I could use a second professor of magic? Then I wouldn’t have to teach every class but weather wizardry and run myself ragged every day! To have another magician I could truly trust here—much less someone who could teach my students, from experience, the real, practical work that an officer of magic does—”
“So youareinviting me to work here with you and build this dream together after all?” My husband’s lips began to curve as he rose to meet me eye-to-eye, one hand settling gently on my closest shoulder. “Is that what you’re saying to me, right now, Harwood? And was that your idea for how we could solve things tonight, even before I told you what I wanted?”
“Well, of course it was! But I was afraid you would only agree for my sake, so...” I shook my head ruefully. “Oh, my love. Have you ever noticed that both of us are good at understanding magic but rather hopeless at understanding other people?”
Wrexham looked at me for a long moment, as intensely as if he were memorizing every detail. Then: “No,” he said firmly. “I’m afraid you’re wrong, Harwood.Completelywrong, in fact.Entirelymistaken.”
“I am?” I blinked.
His eyes glittered dangerously in the candlelight. “Weareboth good at magic,” he told me, “and we will run anexcellentschool together.
“However...” My husband’s lips curved into a triumphantly wicked grin as he gave my shoulder a sudden, gentle push and tumbled me, off-guard, onto my back on the mattress of our bed.
My breath caught as I lost my balance. Wrexham shifted fluidly above me, caging my shoulders between his arms. His dark gaze blazed into mine, fierce with joy and wonder—andallmine, forever, with no more horrible, endless separations forced between us.
“I think you’ll find, darling Harwood,” he murmured, his breath warm against my skin, “that we understand one another in anextremelyvital and personal way. If, as my new headmistress, you would allow me a practical demonstration of that point...?”
Golden candlelight shone from the side table, lighting the hollows of my husband’s lean cheeks and his shining dark hair above me.
I wrapped my fingers around his shoulders and arched luxuriantly against him. Magic tingled in the air. A shining future stretched before us, full of more dazzling possibilities than I’d ever dreamed possible.
“Go on then,” I dared, and felt his breathing quicken in response. Over all these years, we had always risen to each other’s challenges. “Why don’t you prove it to me...if you can?”
He did.
Thoroughly.
