“Then what are you going to do about it?”
The house groaned softly. The walls shifted—still gray, but lighter now. Waiting.
Cassie stood up.
“I’m going to find him.”
“And?”
“And apologize. For all of it. For pushing him away, for not believing him, for being so scared of getting hurt that I hurt both of us first.”
“And?”
She took a deep breath. Felt the magic inside her—not chaotic now, not surging or sparking or setting things on fire. Just there. Steady. Part of her, the way it had always been, waiting for her to accept it.
“And tell him the truth. That I don’t need the binding. I don’t want magic forcing us together. I just want… him. All of him. Even the grumpy parts and the tea obsession and the way he looks at me like I’m a disaster he can’t walk away from.”
“That’s disgustingly romantic,” Diane said. “I approve.”
Something shifted inside her. A release. A settling. Like puzzle pieces finally clicking into place after years of being forced into the wrong positions.
The magic rose, but gently this time. A warmththat spread through her chest and out to her fingertips. Not chaotic. Not desperate. Just… present. Accepted. Part of her, the way it had always been meant to be, finally acknowledged instead of feared.
The walls shifted from gray to soft gold. The kitchen seemed to brighten, not from the lights but from something else—something that felt like hope given physical form. The air itself seemed to sparkle, tiny motes of light dancing in the morning sun.
Luna opened one eye. “You’re glowing.”
She looked at her hands. A faint golden light emanated from her skin—not the chaotic flickering of before, not the uncontrolled surges that had exploded light bulbs and set couches on fire. This was something steadier. Warmer. Like the magic was finally at peace because she was.
“I’m glowing.”
“You’re beautiful,” Diane said softly. “I mean, you were beautiful before, but now you’re like… Cass, you’re actually glowing. Like from the inside.”
“About damn time,” Luna added, stretching and yawning. “This is what happens when you stop fighting yourself. The magic settles. It always does, once you accept it.”
Cassie stared at her hands, turning them over in the golden light. For weeks, she’d been terrified of this power—terrified of being too much, of losing control, of destroying everything she touched. But standing here, accepting herself for thefirst time in maybe her entire life, the magic didn’t feel like a threat.
It felt like coming home.
“Now go get your man,” Luna said, “before Marjorie writes a Facebook novella about your tragic love life.”
Cassie grabbed her keys. Her hands were shaking, but not from fear anymore. From anticipation. From hope. From the terrifying, exhilarating possibility that she might actually get this right.
“If he won’t take me back?—”
“Then you’ll know you tried.” Diane was smiling now, the kind of smile that said she’d been waiting for this moment since the whole mess started. “But Cass? He drove twenty minutes away and parked at a motel instead of going back to Scotland. That man is waiting for you to catch up. Don’t make him wait any longer.”
Cassie paused at the door, looking back at the house—her house, with its colored walls and talking appliances and three-foot-tall garden gnomes keeping watch outside. The house that had witnessed her breakdown, her awakening, her failures and small triumphs. The house that had been trying to show her the truth this whole time, if she’d only been willing to see it.
The walls pulsed once. A warm, encouraging gold.
“Wish me luck,” she said.
“You don’t need luck,” Luna replied. “You just need to show up. That’s always been the hard part for you.”
It was true. Showing up. Being present. Letting someone see her without running away.
But she was done running.
