"You do not lose yourself by loving me," Gregory said gently. "You become more yourself. Braver, stronger, more willing to be vulnerable. That is not weakness, Anthea. That is courage."
"It does not feel like courage," Anthea said, tears beginning to slip down her cheeks. "It feels like failure."
Gregory reached up and cupped her face, his thumbs brushing away her tears. "Listen to me. You are the most competent person I know. You managed an impossible house party that resulted in your sister finding a good match. You navigated Society politics to secure connections I could never have made alone. You stood up to your stepmother repeatedly, protecting your sisters from her manipulation. You have been extraordinary."
"But Poppy still ran away," Anthea said.
"Because she is young and frightened and made her own choice," Gregory said firmly. "Not because you failed her. She did not run away from you, Anthea. She ran away from Beatrice's cruelty. And we found her. We stopped her. We fixed it. Together."
"You fixed it," Anthea corrected. "I stood there frozen while you solved everything."
"You stood there supporting me," Gregory countered. "Do you think I could have done any of that without you? Without knowing you were beside me? Without drawing on the strength you have shown me again and again?"
"I did not do anything," Anthea protested weakly.
"You loved me," Gregory said simply. "You trusted me to handle the situation when you were too overwhelmed to do it yourself. That is not failure, Anthea. That is partnership. That is marriage."
He leaned his forehead against hers.
"I love you," he said quietly. "I love you when you are competent and managing everything perfectly. I love you when you are overwhelmed and struggling. I love you when you are happy and when you are scared. And I will not let you convince yourself that you are inadequate when you are anything but."
"What if I fail again?" Anthea whispered. "What if I prove Beatrice right?"
"Then I will be there to help you fix it," Gregory said. "Just as you will be there to help me when I fail. Because that is what we do. We support each other. We face things together. We do not push each other away when things get difficult."
"I am sorry," Anthea said, her voice breaking. "I am sorry for pulling away. For trying to push you away. For being so scared of being happy that I was willing to destroy what we have."
"I know," Gregory said. "And I forgive you. I will always forgive you. Because I love you more than I love being right. More than I love having everything run smoothly. More than anything."
"I love you too," Anthea whispered. "So much it terrifies me."
"Good," Gregory said. "Love should be a little terrifying. It means it matters."
He kissed her then—soft and gentle and full of forgiveness. Anthea kissed him back desperately, pouring everything she felt into it. Apology and love and gratitude and the promise to do better, to try harder, to not let fear destroy what they had built.
When they finally pulled apart, both breathing hard, Gregory smiled.
"No more talk of annulment," he said firmly. "No more pushing me away. No more convincing yourself you are inadequate when you are extraordinary."
"I will try," Anthea said. "I cannot promise I will not struggle with this. Cannot promise I will not sometimes retreat into old fears. But I will try."
"That is all I ask," Gregory said. He climbed onto the bed beside her, pulling her into his arms. "Now. Tell me what you need."
"This," Anthea said, burrowing into his embrace. "Just this. You holding me. Reminding me that I am not alone."
"You will never be alone again," Gregory promised. "I am here. Always."
They lay like that for a long time, tangled together, Anthea's tears soaking into Gregory's shirt while he held her and murmured reassurances.
Slowly, gradually, Anthea felt the knot of anxiety in her chest begin to loosen. Felt the walls she had built start to crumble. Felt herself begin to believe that perhaps—perhaps—she could be both happy and competent. Both in love and responsible. Both vulnerable and strong.
"Thank you," she whispered finally.
"For what?"
"For not letting me push you away. For fighting for us even when I was trying to sabotage everything."
"I will always fight for us," Gregory said. "Even when you are your own worst enemy. Especially then."
