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Her eyes swam with tears. She couldn’t seem to stop their flow now that she’d begun. As if a year and a half of grieving had been loosed. She wanted to tell him everything, all that had occurred in the past year and a half, but managed only a sobbing, “Your hand.”
His smile held self-consciousness and a small tinge of embarrassment. “The Fey kept me alive, but even their healing has limits. And that came at a price. I’m not sure if I’m exactly who I was before. I feel less human. Less solid. And yet, not of their world either. Like I’m standing between. A foot on each side of the divide.”
“Like Arthur.”
His brows rose, his lips curled in a crooked smile. “That’s a comparison that could go to a fellow’s head.”
She stood on tiptoe, tasting the cool firmness of his lips. Snow slid over the carved lines of his face. Melted upon his collar. “They warned me you would forget. That, once within the summer kingdom, there was no coming back.”
“Not so long ago, to forget my past would have been my greatest desire. But they say be careful what you wish for. Losing those memories meant losing you. I couldn’t do it. I loved you too much to give you up without a fight.”
His gaze slid into the cold ice of her heart until she ached with the pain of its thawing. As if she could finally breathe without the stab of his loss. “But how?”
“I had this.” He pulled free a gold chain, the rainbow sparkle of her opal catching fire in the gray light.
She laughed through her tears. “You said it was just a stone. Nothing magic about it.”
“It was given in love, and that’s a magic not even the Fey truly understand.”
She burrowed against him, hearing the steady rhythm of his heart, the slow rise and fall of his chest, his hand running up and down her back, and she shook with horrid, wretched weeping.
“Ah, my sweet. Don’t cry. It’s over. I’ll not leave you again. I’m home. For good. I promise.”
“Is that a promise you’ll keep or one you’ll break?” she sniffled.
“All this way and that’s all the welcome I get? I can leave again if you like.”
He tried to walk away, but she grabbed hold of him. “No!” Looked up to see the teasing laughter in his eyes. “You’re a right bastard, Brendan Douglas.” She wiped away her tears with the back of her hand.
He put an arm around her, wrapping her close as she reached out to touch his hair, his face, his chest. Reassuring herself he was real.
He tipped her chin up with his bent and crooked fingers, his smile breaking her heart all over again. “Aye, Mrs. Douglas, but you love me anyway.”
